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#bullet train oneshot
sebsbarnes · 5 months
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masterlist
works under each character are oldest to newest
last updated on 4/6/24
requests, ideas, n asks are always welcomed, here
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tangerine; bullet train
co-workers ➛ angst, fluff
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+
confessions most popular! ➛ fluff
summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know. warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood word count: 1.1k+
the days you meet my fav! ➛ fluff, angsty plot twist
summary: tangerine was feeling the same way. he ran his tongue across his teeth thinking of the way your laugh sounded like a symphony. he shook his head a bit thinking it was wild to even say such things about, truly, a stranger. warnings: none! word count: 2.5k+
a ghost ➛ angst
summary: "are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out OR! ex lovers see each other for the first time warnings: none! word count: 700+
lover girl ➛ angst, comfort, fluff-ish
summary: tangerine saves you from an awful date, cliche realizing feelings afterwards warnings: mentions of killing, language, talks of insecurities word count: 2k+
jealousy
summary: he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle. warnings: mildly toxic dynamic, semi-suggestive (no descriptions) word count: 900+
apologizes ➛ angst, comfort
summary: you voice your concerns about tangerine's profession, to which he doesn't take kindly warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, nothing bad at all word count: 1.5k+
love and grief
summary: you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner. warnings: death, violence, injuries, language word count: 2.4k+
come here
summary: REQUEST! can you do a drabble where tangerine goes to the bathroom and sends the reader a text that says "come here." warnings: 18+!! word count: 500+
psychopomp ➛ angst
summary: it was that moment, underneath the streetlight, that tangerine knew he had no choice but to love you warnings: death, dying, anxiety word count: 1.6k+
a new year
summary: REQUEST! new year’s eve party with tangerine warnings: smoking word count: 800+
friend or foe
alternate continuation to 'the days you meet' summary: REQUEST! where lemon goes to the cafe a few weeks later and talks with reader, they notice lemon wearing tangerine's necklace. reader is also a contract killer and thinks that lemon killed tangerine. warnings: guns word count: 1.1k+
seduction
summary: REQUEST! reader is interacting with another guy in a mission and tangerine gets super jealous warnings: none i believe, making the other person jealous word count: 1.8k+
headrest ➛ fluff
summary: REQUEST! reader falls asleep on tangerine's shoulder on the train home after a mission warnings: none word count: 700+
13 weeks ➛ fluff
summary: it was a quiet night when the walls of your apartment learned that the two of you had fallen for the other warnings: none word count: 800
high school headcanon
summary: REQUEST! you and the twins are a trio and they are protective of you warnings: the slightest description of someone being a bully
new friends, new love ➛ fluff
summary: REQUEST! ladybug ditches you at a work event to chat to lemon while you occupy an unsociable tangerine warnings: mentions of injury word count: 1.3k+
bar fight
summary: REQUEST! tangerine intervenes when the creep at the bar puts his hands on you warnings: harassment, fighting word count: 1.6k+
sunlight ➛ tooth rotting fluff
summary: REQUEST! you take advantage of the empty beach after a mission much to tangerine's initial dismay OR! though the moon would watch over him, he knew the sun was far closer to him because you were in his arms. warnings: none word count: 1.1k+
tangerine intervenes a stalker headcanon
summary: REQUEST! you call tangerine after two men follow you from the station to different stores warnings: talks of stalking, nothing descriptive
scarlet flags
summary: you called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me warnings: suggestive- minimal descriptions, toxic situationship word count: 860+
inked
summary: tattoo artist!tangerine; you meet tangerine's friends for the first time warnings: language word count: 1.7k+
tangerine has a soft spot for reader
summary: REQUEST! tangerine has a soft spot and dynamic similar to him and lemon with reader warnings: none
too sweet
summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that. warnings: none word count: 1.2k+
letters to a loved one
summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered. warnings: angst word count: 1.4k
a house is not a home
summary: for months now you lived two separate lives. existing on two completely different orbits, the distance between you growing into lightyears warnings: angst, lovers to strangers word count: 930+
pietro maximoff; marvel
hole in the wall
summary: despite barely knowing the brainwashed girl beyond the wall, pietro refused to hurt her, no matter how much she hurt him. warnings: fighting, none rlly?? word count: 5k+
phantom pain ➛ angst, comfort
summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been warnings: insecurities, none really?? word count: 2.9k+
vincent renzi; anatomy of a fall
reassured
summary: the presence of an old flame causes vincent to reassure you warnings: none! word count: 370+
enticed
summary: vincent can't help but struggle through work with you as the prosecutor warnings: none word count: 645
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padfootdaredmetoo · 7 months
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Fathers & Family Master Post! All the family stories I have are below! (Peaky Blinders & Bullet Train)
Peaky Blinders
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Grab an End - Thomas Shelby & Teen Ruby Shelby
Ruby sneaks off to a party and needs Tommy’s help - Hurt / Comfort / Father daughter feels / coming of age
Moving Out - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby
Little Ruby has had enough of Tommy’s BS - Hurt / Comfort - father-daughter feels / fix it/ happy ending
Sick - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby
Ruby is on death's door, Tommy and family try to nurse her back to health
Da - Thomas Shelby & Little Teddy Shelby
The Kid’s first words & Tommy’s reaction - Super Fluff
We Are Not Good Men - Thomas Shelby & Adopted Teen Daughter Pt.2
 Reader is adopted when Tommy discovers that she had been working for him as a maid at 15 years old. Extreme fluff & hurt comfort. Hugs. Nondescriptive mentions of assault and beatings
A Vacation - Thomas Shelby X Reader & Family
Tommy needs to step up as a father, when his wife is pregnant again and put on bedrest a vacation is in order. Tommy takes them to stay in Cornwall and the reader watches everyone change for the better.
A Day at the Fair - Shelby boys & Finn
The boys promise him a day at the fair and it doesn’t go as planned - featuring lots of Tommy and Lizzy, plus Arthur and John
London Calling - Shelby Sister Reader
 (Shelby sister) has had enough of her family’s nonsense, she escapes to do things on her own. Only to find out years later the cause of her pain wasn’t what she thought it was.
First Hit - Finn Shelby Comming of Age
An outing takes an unexpected turn and Finn thinks its him time to step up. Featuring lots of kid Finn, buckets of innocence, lots of Tommy, and Lizzy to the rescue.
A Monster Under the Bed - Thomas X Reader & Daughter
Tommy helps a girl with an unexpected request that leads his heart somewhere it hasn’t been before
Closing Walls & Ticking Clocks - Thomas X Lizzie & Adopted Reader
who knew verbally assaulting a nun would win you the perfect family - Series
Growing Pains - Shelby Family & Reader Sister
Reader is the youngest of the Shelby clan and is often excluded due to her softer nature. When she gets hurt at the pub one day it quickly becomes everyone’s problem to fix it and make things right
Dad? - Tommy Shelby & Little Baby Sister
The last Shelby is born just before the war, when Tommy comes back caring for her is one of the only things he finds peace in.
Red - Thomas Shelby X Pregnant Reader
Redhead Reader finds out she’s pregnant with Tommy’s babe. This follows their wonders about what their child will be like.
Betrayal - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter
Reader is Tommy’s daughter. When she gets involved with a boy from a rival family, she knows that there is a lot on the line. Unfortunately for her, things don’t end well, causing Tommy to recall what it was like being in love with someone who stabs you in the back
Teddy Bear - Alfie & Little Girl from the Streets - Pt. 2
The reader gets lost wandering the streets, when she sees what she assumes is a bakery she sneaks in hoping to steal some scraps…. She gets caught by Alfie, initially terrified of his big size and loud voice she realizes he’s not so bad after all.
Allergies - Tommy Shelby X Reader Daughter
Thomas meets an unspeakable setback as he welcomes his new daughter into the world
Nonsense - Reader & Little Charlie Shelby
No one can understand what’s bothering little Charlie - no one except the reader
American Girl - Shelby Family & Sister Reader
The reader finds out more about her distant family after her Grandparents pass.
Her Father's Daughter - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby
Follow up head cannons about how much Ruby adores her father.
Dresses - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter
While the ladies of the Shelby family are on vacation you realize you still need to find a ballgown for the big dance. Thankfully your dad is available.
Not a Child Anymore - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter
Tommy struggles with his daughter as she starts exploring the world of dating - After falling for Isaiah he catches them and all hell breaks loose
Me, Adopted? - Thomas Shelby & Reader Son
Charlie & Ruby play a prank on their little brother and tell him he's adopted.
I don't want to grow up - Tommy's daughter finds herself in an uncomfortable position while all the women are out of town - father-daughter comfort fic
Bullet Train
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Values - Tangerine X Reader - Series
Tangerine can't help himself and decides to mess around while on the job - resulting in a very pregnant reader trying to track him down.
Adopt a Fruit - Tangerine & Lemon & Small reader child
A young girl falls into the hands of our two favorite assassins
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eternalslover · 8 months
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Bullet train incorrect quotes:
Tangerine: Rules were meant to be broken
Ladybug: Tan, nothing was meant to be broken
Tangerine: Piniatas
Y/n: Glow sticks
Lemon: Karate boards
The Son: Spaghetti when you have a small pot
Tangerine: Rules
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triptuckers · 1 year
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as long as you'd like - tangerine
Request: no Pairing:  tangerine x reader Summary:  in which lemon and tangerine finished a job, and tangerine has a place for them to stay Warnings: swearing (bc its tangerine duh), slight mentions of injuries but nothing major Word count:  1.3K A/N: ive watched bullet train twice in like 4 days and im obsessed with tangerine (hence the shit load of fic recs I reblogged) enjoy!
it had been a really long day for lemon and tangerine. sure, they got the job done and it had been closer to their home city than past jobs. because it was so close by, they’d figured it would be over quickly. but it somehow it took longer than they had anticipated. 
which is why tangerine is fighting to keep his eyes open as he’s driving. 
they’re both quiet, which is unusual. it’s probably because lemon is tired as well. tangerine knows he just wants to sleep.
the adrenaline’s worn off, there’s less people on the road, and all tangerine can think about is a bed to sleep in.
‘oi, mate, you took a wrong turn.’ comes lemon’s voice from tangerine’s left. 
tangerine’s gone off the highway earlier than usual. he’s too tired to keep on driving and he knows lemon is also exhausted, and therefore can’t take over.
‘it’s fine.’ says tangerine. ‘i know someone who lives near. we can crash there.’ 
‘who do you know?’ says lemon.
tangerine is silent for a while.
‘someone.’ he says.
‘fucking someone?’ says lemon. ‘we’re in some random fucking town cause you know someone?’
‘trust me on this.’
‘who is it?’
‘you’ll see.’
‘fucking hell, tangerine, just tell me.’
‘i said you’ll fucking see it, all right? jezus fucking christ, mate.’ 
the rest of the car ride is silent. lemon’s dozing off in the passenger seat and tangerine’s driving.
he’s driven this route many times, he could remember it with his eyes closed. there’s a reason he’s never told anyone about this - not even lemon. all to prevent attracting the wrong kind of attention. he could never be too careful, given what he does for a living.
he pulls up to an apartment complex, and lemon stirs awake. tangerine turns off the car and gets out. 
he walks toward one of the staircases leading up to the apartments.
‘where the fuck are we?’ says lemon behind him. 
‘in a minute.’ says tangerine.
‘fuck that, man. we’re at some random apartment complex in a small town we don’t fucking know, because you claim there’s someone here who you know.’ says lemon.
‘will you give it a fucking rest mate?’ says tangerine, getting annoyed at his brother. ‘we’ll be able to sleep and get a meal or whatever. we’re here, so you can stop your fucking complaining.’
they’re standing in front of one of the apartments. there’s a small window next to the door and the curtains are closed. yet a little light streams through a small gap between them.
‘we’re fucking breaking in and entering now?’ lemon whisper-shouts at tangerine.
‘it’s not fucking breaking in and entering because i’ve got a fucking key you idiot.’ says tangerine, pulling said key out of one of his pockets. ‘now will you shut up?’ 
tangerine steps forward and unlocks the door. he enters the apartment, lemon following closely behind him. after locking the door, tangerine walks further into the apartment. 
‘tangerine who the fuck lives here?’ says lemon. 
lemon looks at his brother as tangerine walks up to what looks like the living room of the apartment, where the light was coming from.
it’s not very big, there’s just enough space for a couch, a small coffee table and a tv. on the couch, underneath a pile of blankets, is the top of a head with messy hair visible. on the screen, the subtitles of a movie or tv show are rolling. 
lemon watches as tangerine’s features soften when his eyes land on the person on the couch.
tangerine walks up to the couch, pulling the blankets slightly away from the person’s face and brushing some of the hair out of the way.
‘hello, love.’ says tangerine softly. 
you slowly open your eyes, blinking a few times. the face in front of you comes into focus as you wake up, and you smile. 
‘tan.’ you say. ‘you’re back.’
you sleepily reach out your arms to him and tangerine bends down to hug you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
‘sorry for barging in here without notice, love, we just needed a place to crash and yours was closer.’ says tangerine.
‘we?’ you say, looking over his shoulder. 
it’s only then you notice there’s another man in your apartment. 
you let go of tangerine and get up from the couch, walking over to the other man.
‘hi.’ you say, holding out your hand for him to shake. ‘i’m y/n. you must be lemon?’
‘yeah.’ says lemon, clearly confused. 
‘tan’s told me a lot about you.’ you say. ‘i’m so glad we finally met.’ 
‘well, i’m sorry to say i’ve not a fucking clue who you are.’ says lemon.
you frown, turning your head to look at tangerine. 
‘you didn’t tell him about me?’ you say.
‘i told you, love, it’s safer this way.’ says tangerine, walking up to you.
‘i didn’t think the whole “not telling anyone about our relationship” thing also applied to your own brother.’ you say. 
‘i’m sorry i’m a little lost here, who exactly are you?’ says lemon.
‘she’s my girl, mate.’ says tangerine, wrapping an arm around your waist.
‘you’ve got a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?’ says lemon.
‘no i didn’t because-‘
‘what the fuck mate!’
‘lemon, let me just-‘
‘how long?’
‘what?’
‘how long have you had a girl?’
‘little over a year.’
‘a fucking year?’ 
‘will you shut the fuck up for a second and stop fucking interrupting me?’ says tangerine. ‘y/n and i have been dating for over a year and we figured the less people knew about it, the safer she’d be. which is why i didn’t fucking tell anyone because i would like to keep her alive.’
‘uh, if i may?’ you say, getting the attention of both of the brothers who, right now, looked downright dangerous with all the tension building up. 
‘yeah, love?’ says tangerine.
‘we did agree to not tell anyone but i really didn’t know that meant lemon as well. as far as i know you spend a lot of time with him.’ you say. ‘but can we talk about all of this tomorrow? no offense, but it’s like three in the morning and i can tell everyone’s exhausted.’ 
‘yeah, sure.’ says tangerine as lemon nods. 
‘the guest bedroom is all good to go.’ you say to lemon. ‘feel free to use the shower as well, if you’d like.’ 
‘thank you.’ says lemon. 
‘it’s down the hall, third door to the right and the bathroom is the second door to the right.’ you say.
lemon thanks you again and takes off, muttering something about "secret fucking girlfriends" under his breath. 
you look at tangerine and smile up at him. 
'you alright?' you say.
'yeah, it wasn't that big of a deal. those guys were clearly not a big threat, we got the job done and got away with some cuts and bruises here and there, but we'll be fine.' says tangerine.
you take in the sight of him. it's true, he had the occasional cut or bruise on his face and his exposed neck, collarbone and part of his chest. you knew he liked the suits he wore and tried to maintain his look, but he often returned to you like this; no suit jacket, sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone. you liked him best that way.
‘missed you.’ you say, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around him.
‘missed you too, my love. so fucking much.’ says tangerine, nuzzling his face in your neck. ‘i’ll show you just how much i missed you tomorrow.’
‘tomorrow?’ you say.
‘yeah because i drove five fucking hours to get here and i’m exhausted.’ says tangerine, making you smile. 
‘i’ll take anything i can get.’
‘oh, you’ll get everything tomorrow, don’t you worry about that. for now i’ll just settle for some fucking sleep.’
‘it’s been too long since i’ve woken up with you next to me. how long are you staying?’
‘as long as you’d like, love.’
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Max/Marit
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bubblegumvolcano · 1 year
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𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 (ᵗᵃⁿᵍᵉʳⁱⁿᵉ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ)
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ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; mentions of punching (pillows), nightmares, kissing (not on the lips!!), cursing, short just to get me back in my writing shit 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 422 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭; here!
꒦︶︶︶  ♡ ♡ ♡  ꒦︶︶︶    
“Tan.” You whispered to your boyfriend, feeling horrible that you were waking him up during a rare moment of sleep.
“Tan, babe.” You put your left hand on his arm and shook him lightly. His eyes finally slowly blinked open. He adjusted his eyes to the darkness before whispering back.
“Are you okay, love?” He asked this with a red, sweaty face. He forgot about the nightmare he was having for a moment, trying to see if you were okay before anything.
“Yes but, are you okay? You were talking to someone in your sleep again.” He saw the worry on your face and cursed under his breath. He hated waking up to see your stressed eyes staring back at him, it made him feel horrible.
“I’m.. Yeah, just another bloody nightmare.” He smiled weakly up at you. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” You talked in what seemed like pain, which it was, simply from seeing him even the tiniest bit distressed. Your hand rested on his forehead, wiping the sweat and the curly hairs stuck there back. 
He grabbed your hand and kissed it, “It was worse this time. Last time it was almost nothing, but.. I don’t know why I’ve had so many recently. I barely get to fucking rest and once I’m next to you relaxing, my mind wants to be a little shit.” 
He sighed and lay back again, his hand on his chest as he breathed heavily.
You plant a kiss on his forehead again, “Sorry for waking you up. You were just really scaring me this time. It sounded serious.”
“Don’t apologize. I wasn’t... sleep-punching my pillow again, was I?”
You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder, “You haven’t done that in months, Tan.”
He shrugs and holds your hand again. 
“But have you ever noticed how you only ever punch your pillows and never me? I wonder how your body or mind recognizes that when you’re asleep. It’s weird.”
“You’re right, that is weird.” He bites his lip in thought, wondering how that’s never happened, but obviously grateful about it too.
“You heading back to sleep? Do you need some melatonin?” You sit up again, your elbow resting next to Tangerine’s head.
He takes a peek at his phone, “It’s five in the morning, I’ll just get up now, I think.”
You groan. “But if you get up, I have to get up, and it’s still dark out. Just stay in bed with me.”
He finally turns to you, and your pleading eyes. 
He dramatically sighs and pretends to think about it.
“Oh, fine. I guess I’ll stay here with you.”
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queers-gambit · 5 months
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Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
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It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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mayfieldss · 3 months
Text
Accident - Tangerine
Warnings; language, sexual innuendos, mentions of blood. A serious overuse of nicknames "love" and "darling". Tangerine is saurr ick coded in this idk what's going on.
Summary; Tangerine walks in on you after a shower and the conversation that follows plays out different than expected.
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Tangerine is not expecting anything when he opens the door except an empty room with a bed for him to rest. He knows you're somewhere around of course, you'd parted ways with him shortly after the job, claiming you needed to wash the blood off of you before it stained your conscience. He didn't know if you'd still be in the hotel room, or down at the bar drinking away the memories of the days events. Overall he wasn't expecting what he saw.
"Fuck, shit, oh my god." He finds you scrambling for something , anything to cover yourself when he enters.
"Oh, bloody hell, sorry love. Thought you'd be done by now." He turns his back to you, though he does it slowly, because quite frankly he can't help himself from stealing a glance.
"You presentable yet darling?" Tangerine can hear you stumbling about behind him, a smile creeping onto his lips at the quiet curses that you let slip under your breath.
"Couldn't you just leave?"
"Believe it or not, I paid for this disaster of a hotel room, so I think I've won myself the right to bloody well stand in it."
He listens again, and can just make out a string of names you call him under your breath, "Ya know, that's not a nice thing to say."
"Go fuck yourself Tan." You're pissed, he likes it.
"I think it would be much more enjoyable if you gave me some help with that." He hears you gasp, your footsteps stumbling about until he knows you're in the bathroom and out of sight. He turns around, walking through the room to lay upon the bed. With hands behind his head and his back against the pillows, he waits for you.
When you're finally back within his view, he sighs, loving just how much his smile is irritating you, and even more so the way you refuse to look at him. "I think I liked you better with your clothes off."
"Of course you did." You're packing things into your duffle bag, and as you lean down, Tangerine can't help but notice that the shirt you're wearing is too big for you. Not only is it oversized however, but Tangerine realises it's his.
"You know darling, locking doors is a thing I'm sure you're capable of, considering you got opposable thumbs and all." He doesn't bring up the shirt just yet, perhaps because he thinks you might take it off if he does. He likes the look of you in it for now.
"I hate to break it to you, but this shitty hotel you paid for? Has no fucking locks!" you stand straight as you yell at him and now he has a full picture of you. His shirt hangs loose around you, the buttons done up crooked in your obvious rush to put something over your body, one sleeve keeps slipping from your shoulder, the skin there revealing itself and hiding away again every time you pull the fabric back up. He's obsessed with it, and you.
"Fucking hell."
Tangerine doesn't intend for the words to escape him, but they do, and he's almost embarrassed by it. It takes a minute before you realize what's happening, looking down at yourself and back up at him.
"The shirt's really doing it for ya, isn't it?" You've got your eyebrows raised, and Tangerine grins broadly.
"It really is, love." He pauses, taking you in again, "it really, really is."
You roll your eyes at him, but to Tangerine's surprise, you keep the shirt on, moving to sit on the other bed in the room.
"You know, that's something i don't get." You're staring up at the ceiling, arms by your sides on the bed as you speak. "What is so attractive about sharing clothing?"
Tangerine huffs, struggling to concentrate on his words. "Fucked if i know, but I'd let you have my kids right about now."
A laugh slips free of you, and you turn your head, cheek pressed against the duvet as you look at him. "You'd let me? What the fuck does that mean?"
"Sorry darling, lemme rephrase." Tangerine clears his throat, and you resist the urge to smile. "It would be an honor to father your children."
In an instant, you're laughing so hard you can barely breathe, curling in on yourself, and holding your stomach from the pain of the action. Tangerine watches you all through it, a smirk plastered firm on his face. "You're treating me like the fucking joker right now, it's not that funny."
You ignore him, calming yourself down.
"If you think about it, we'd have some good-looking kids, don't ya think?" His eyes scan over the features of your face, and he knows you're doing the same to him. "They'd be real heartbreakers, I think."
"Are planning out a fucking future with me in your head right now?" You ask, and there's another chuckle of disbelief threatening to break past your lips.
"No," Tangerine is deep in thought, though there's nothing sweet about it. "But I am planning out the next ten minutes with you."
That stuns you into a silence and a thousand thoughts race around in your head. You sit up, the left sleeve of Tangerine's top slipping from your shoulder again. "In my head, the next ten minutes involve alcohol, food, and sleeping in this hard arse motel bed. I think our priorities are pretty different."
Tangerine chuckles, propping himself up on his elbow, staring you down. "Well, our plans have one thing in common." He grins, but you don't share the expression. "The bed's in my fantasy too, darling."
You scoff, standing to move across the room. You'll order room service, you think, and pay for it with money from Tangerine's wallet, just to teach him a lesson. "You disgust me."
You can hear Tangerine standing from his place on his own bed, coming to stand behind you. "Alright, I'll drop the subject. What're you ordering?"
You twist your head back to look at him as you wait for the call on the rooms landline to go through. "Whatever the fuck I want."
The man behind you sighs, though you know he finds humor in the situation. He likes to get you all riled up. "You don't gotta give me the attitude, I get your point. Get me some chips, though, would ya?" His hands move upward to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. Buttons very similar to the uneven ones holding a particular piece of fabric to your body.
You don't respond, but when ordering Tangerine can't help but smile as you inquire about the chips he'd asked for. You don't hate him yet. In fact, he thinks you feel quite the opposite. You find him amusing at the very least, even though he finds you to be the most intriguing person he's ever met. Baby steps, he thinks. One day, you might take as much interest in him as he does you.
"Thank you, love. I appreciate it." He says once you've hung up the phone.
"They're just chips. It's not a big deal." You push past him, bare shoulder brushing against his clothed arm.
"It is when you're as starving as I am." His gaze follows you as you leap back on to your designated bed, sinking into the stiff pillows.
"You were starving for something else a minute ago." You mutter, eyes falling closed as you lay atop the covers.
"I'm always hungry for that, love. Make no mistake." He's removed the vest he'd been wearing, his belt discarded too as he answers the knock on the hotel room door. It's a staff member with what you ordered, arriving abnormally fast.
"You seriously apall me." You groan once the door is closed again, sitting up ready to eat. Tangerine snatches his chips from the tray provided, taking them over to his own bed as he sits down. With his legs over the edge of it, he leans forward, smile present again.
"I'm only joking, darling. Unless, of course, you don't want me joking, in which case I'm totally not."
That does earn a snort from you as you dig into your meal, and Tangerine leaves it at that. It's been an eventful night, and he's blessed enough to be sitting in this room alive. He's gifted even further with the fact that he gets to sit here with you, looking like a bombshell capable of ending every war in the world. Even tired and stuffing your face full of mediocre room service, he can't help but admire you. And that's a dangerous thing. If he's catching feelings, he doesn't exactly know it yet. But he has a suspicion that he might be, and he'll think on that for the rest of the night.
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TANGERINE TAGLIST; @swordofawriter
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tokkiwrites · 7 months
Text
YOU MAY NOW FUXK THE BRiDE
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ㅡㅡㅡ in which tangerine shows his bride how much he truly loves her. ( THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST )
TW: rough sex, breeding kink, dom tan, sub & shy reader, use of y/n, p in v (unprotected!!)
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the special day came and went by so fast, but not a moment passed without tangerine thinking how lucky he is to have y/n in his life; the fact he could hold her forever -- she promised him eternal love and he didn't want more in this world than to make her happy. even so, looking at his now bride, exceptionally beautiful and innocent, with her teary doe eyes whilst he said "i do" ... he couldn't wait to dig right into her tonight.
the guests left, not before showering the newlyweds in congratulations, hugs, and happy tears -- was tangerine starting to get impatient? maybe, but he sensed y/n felt the same. while they've had sex before tonight was more special, y/n gave him everything, and he was going to take it giving in exchange what he had to offer: his heart and good dick every night until death does them apart.
his train of thoughts is put to a halt when he hears y/n softly giggling, grabbing him by his bicep "finally some alone time."
tangerine smiles under his mustache, tilting y/n's chin up and placing a kiss on her reddened lips. "Let's go to our room, doll. don't wanna waste a single moment." she can't help but blush at his words, knowing what he meant. don't get her wrong. She absolutely loved it when Tan was straightforward, and even after so many nights together, she always seemed to turn into a shy mess.
tangerine scoops her up from the ground, scurrying to their hotel room just a few minutes away. opening the door with his elbow, he spins inside the suite, settling y/n down again. he didn't say anything, only closed the door and stared his now wife, who looked like an untainted flower -- he couldn't wait to pick.
"You're makin' me feel like i have something on my face when you stare so much." y/n jokes, pokin tangerines chest with her manicured fingers."You're so gorgeous, baby." he sighs, closing in on her and grabbing her by the waist. "I'm so lucky you're mine."
y/n can't help but flush, shying away and bury her face in tangerines neck. "And I'll be yours from now on, tan." he chuckles before helping her off the ground again and settling her on the bed, this pulling a soft laugh from y/n's lips. "Your makeup looks so pretty, but I'd enjoy ruining it just about now."
y/n turns more red, if that's even possible. "You can ruin it.." she mutters.
"What's that, baby?"
nothing. she swallows thick, a hot sensation running over her body. even if they were married now, this feels like the first time something was about to happen.
"Need you to speak up, darlin'..." he stops to trace his fingers across her cheeks before roughly grabbing them, making y/n look up at him. "C'mon, you know i hate it when i have to ask twice."
"i said.. you could ruin it-- my makeup." Tangerine coos before he moves his hand from y/n's face to her throat, gently pressing on the sides. "That's a good girl. was it so hard?" he asks, almost mockingly.
there's a short pause before tangerine speaks again. "Want me to undress you, baby? or do you want me to fuck you in that pretty dress you've got on?"
y/n presses her legs together, the hotness from her body growing in waves that washed over. tangerine notices and decides to position himself between her legs, pressing against her wet panties with his knee. he already had her squirming, the thoughts in her head all jumbled. "doll--" he paused before tightening his grip around her neck "i asked you something."
"u-ndress me..please."
tangerine hums, taking his time whilst he undressed them both, y/n's body buzzing in anticipation as he saw the immense bulge in tangerines boxers. she saw it many times but it never stopped shocking her on how big it was.
tangerines calloused palms traveled across y/n's torso, tracing her curves so perfectly. her already messy hair and burning body invited him to climb over her slightly, pressing one of his thumbs on her lips. "open."
she does as she's told, parting her lips and letting tangerines finger slip in.
"wider." he demands, pushing in another digit, traveling well past her tongue and into the back of her throat, hitting it and making y/n gag.
he smiles proudly, thrusting his fingers into her mouth, slicking them up before removing them, leaving y/n gasping for air. "Good girl."
he motions her on her back before lining his fingers with her dripping core. "m gonna work you out a little, baby, yeah? then make you take my cock."
the slick and wet noises fill the room as tangerine pushes his fingers inside y/n, causing her to buck her hips agains his hand, head turning to the side trying to hide her embarrassment. those two fingers worked into her, turning the girl into a incoherent mess, that familiar feeling building up inside her core.
"gotta come, baby? can't have you do that, need you to feel my cock buried deep inside of that pretty pussy of yours first."
his tainted words make y/n even more delirious, soft pants parting from her agape mouth. "p-please, tan-"
"im gonna fill you up so good, love." he leans down and rasps into her ear "make you unable to walk from how good I'll fuck you."
his fingers slip out of her, the feeling of emptiness being short lived as tangerine pushes inside of her full force, making y/n take his cock all in one go.
"that's my good g-girl-" he groans in utmost pleasure, roughly hitting just the right spot over and over. he pulls out almost completely before snapping his hips forward, causing y/n to moan louder, breath hitching as his cock brushed against her walls.
"gonna come all over my cock, baby, huh?"
"p-lease, tan-" she cries out, gripping him by his broad shoulders, his thrust quickening. "I wa-nt you to c-ome, darlin'- shit!" he frowns, closing his eyes as he tightly grips y/n by her thighs "fuck, baby, I'm gonn-a cum, I'm gonna fill you u-up-"
with one last snap of his hips, he sends them both into heaven and back, as they each finish, tangerine letting his seed pool inside of y/n, her mind now hazy.
they both breathe heavily, before tangerine falls over y/n, wrapping his arms around her frame, placing one peck on her lips.
"I love you so much, doll." y/n smiles, her vision still blurry, then replies with the words that still make butterflies fill tangerines stomach."I love you."
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⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : AS PROMISED sorry for any grammatical errors  !!! this has 1.2k words. also, thank you so much for the amazing request!! i know I've been not so active, but i have SHIT RECEPTION FOR NOW.
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tange-my-rine · 1 month
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saying something stupid (like I love you) || Tangerine × gn!reader
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Summary: With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.
TW: angsty (with a happy ending), crying, cursing (it's Tangerine), and avoidance (Tangerine is really bad at feelings, what can I say).
[[A/N: yes this is based off that one song. It's so GOODDD. And also something Tangerine would totally do. Peep the Little Women reference. Enjoy :)]]
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"C'mon," Lemon urged, "-'s not 'at hard, mate."
You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly chewing the inside of your cheek, "You say that as if you've ever been in a relationship. Ever."
You had known the twins since middle school (probably), both raised with shitty parents and even shittier lives. When you saw them for the first time swindling a boy out of his money in a go-fish game, you essentially blackmailed them.
('If I don't get a share, I'm telling the teacher.')
You actually even knew their names, and them yours, but you preferred the codenames -you were the one to come up with them afterall.
Tangerine almost popped a blood vessel when you met that day, but Lemon smiled big and bright and pulled a five out of his brother’s hand. You and Lemon were fast friends after that; Tangerine took a lot more time.
That being said, when you were finally friends -near high school, he started to... fill out his form. Naturally, being close to someone who is handsome, you find yourself in... certain states of mind. And what started as a little crush your senior year, snowballed to now.
Where you were in love with him.
You probably told Lemon after a few years of it not going away. But, you'd find that every day after you'd regret that decision.
"Sally Jones," Lemon offered up, seemingly in defense of himself.
You scoffed, "The girl you dated for a month?"
He nodded his head.
"You didn't even like her," you clarified, "-you liked that she had cable so you could watch your fucking trains."
"So?"
"So-" you said a little loudly, turning to the bedroom where Tangerine slept and drastically lowering your voice at the distinct absence of shuffling, "-Lemon. We have been best friends since we were kids, that's... That's a lot to mess up because I'm... because I have feelings."
"What so-" Lemon starts, "What if he gets married one day? What are goin' to do? Just... Just fuckin' bury it down?"
"First off, he's too much of a dick to get married, secondly-" you paused, letting out a big sigh -something in your chest twisting, "-yeah. I mean, it's what I've done for all of these years, isn't it?"
He frowned for a minute, hand finding its place on your shoulder, "You ever think ya deserve to get it off your chest? 'At maybe you deserve the happiness it'll give ya?"
"Might give me," you corrected.
"Look, I know my brother," Lemon argued, brown eyes layered onto yours, "-and I know he's been fuckin' crazy about you since you stole that fuckin' five dollars on the playground."
"I didn't steal it," you clarified, a little defensively "-we made a deal. We negotiated-"
"Y/N," he refocused, "-I just wanna see the two of ya happy, yeah?"
"I know," you spoke, softer, "-I know, Lemon."
Before another word could be spoken and it really seemed like Lemon wanted to, Tangerine stepped into the living room -hair still sleep-mussed, and clothes far more casual than what he'd wear normally. Not that it was new to you, but it still made your heart flutter a little.
"You 'avin' a fuckin' pow wow without me?"
"Morning, sunshine," you smiled with a sing-songy tone.
"Fuck you," Tangerine muttered (a tiny little smile quirked onto his lips), before slinking off into the kitchen -most likely in search of coffee.
When you stayed seated, eyes flickering over whatever reality TV show was on -Lemon nearly burned a whole in your side.
'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.
He was wordless, brown eyes darting from you to the kitchen -a few times in a row actually.
'Now?' you mouthed back.
'The sooner the fuckin' better,' Lemon mouthed back, shoving you further down the couch.
Well, you debated to yourself, it would get him off your back, and that would be nice.
But, you didn't feel so scared then -not like all the years prior. It was like something... something had shifted in you and you just wanted it done.
Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.
You took a deep breath in and with raised hands (in mock surrender), stood up.
'Fine.'
Lemon seemed taken aback a moment, shock, like he'd never actually expected you to cave; to be fair, you were a little surprised too. But... you were tired, and if heartbreak was to come of it -you wanted to get it over with now.
'But if he doesn't...' you mouthed, '-you owe me everything in your wallet.'
He neatly nodded in agreement.
You swallowed, squeezing your hands together and with the timidness of a doe, entered the kitchen.
The kitchen in the apartment was small, but modern-looking. It was all sleek metal and plain colored cabinets, looked like something out of a magazine. That being said, Tangerine fit right in.
Your eyes unwillingly went to his hair, the unkempt curls, and you briefly wondered if they felt soft.
"Hey, Tan?" you echoed out -trying to keep your voice level and calm.
He held up a finger -as if to say 'one moment', before fidgeting with his coffee. He took it basically black so it didn't take him too long to do so. Just a dash of both sugar and milk, he spun around to look at you.
You supposed you hadn't thought about the idea that he had to be looking at you while you said it. His eyes were always so... bright and distracting -you could hardly handle it when he looked at you so intensely on a regular day. How could you do that today? Right now?
You cleared your throat, wringing your hands together, "I, um, I need to tell you something."
Tangerine pursed his lips, looking you over -leaning slightly on the counter with his cup in his hand. His eyes dashed over yours with a curious sort of question there -scanning over you like he was trying to figure out just what it was.
"Ya alright, love?"
You blinked, trying to clear your head, and opening your mouth to respond. In what way, you weren't sure but any at all sounded good-
"Get fuckin' on with it, mate," Lemon yelled out from the living room -apparently hearing everything in here he could.
Tangerine was just looking at you -blue eyes just looking.
Something in you snapped.
"Jesus Christ, fine, Lemon," you hissed in frustration -words coming out before you could stop them, "-Tangerine, I'm in love with you."
Tangerine froze.
You weren't even sure he was breathing.
"Tangerine," you stepped forward, concerned, "-are you okay?"
Before you could so much as touch him though, he, without a word, beelined out of the kitchen. So fast you were left reeling in his dust, blinking a little deliriously.
You instantly spun around your heels and rushed to the living room -just in time to see Tangerine swipe the keys (the car keys) off of the little table near the door and promptly leave the apartment.
The sound of the door slamming shut echoed into your mind -like a pin dropping into silence.
Something swirling up into your chest, you swallowed -something heavy on your tongue and even heavier on your heart. You blankly stared at the door, like if you wished hard enough he'd come back and tell you he loved you. That all of it had just been a gut reaction.
After a few minutes, that did not happen.
"Lemon...?" You croaked out, eyes suddenly blurry and heart pounding in your chest -had you really just ruined it all?
"Lemon-" you let out a breath and it somehow turned into a sob. It felt like your chest had been cracked open and your heart crushed to dust.
God, you'd lost him. You fucking lost your best friend because you decided to be stupid and fall in love with him-
You don't know when you fell to the floor, crying, but you do remember Lemon rushing over to you -brown eyes guilty and somewhat confused.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
He kept repeating it, over and over, but all you could see in your head was Tangerine frozen and all you could feel was a loss. You were grieving him, there was no way anything could go back to normal-
You'd have to get separate jobs, live on your own-
"I'm not leavin' you," Lemon said suddenly, and you realized you must've been muttering, "-My brother can shove 'at idea up his arse."
Without another breath, you pushed yourself into his arms -wrapped around him into a hug.
"Liked you much better anyway," he muttered, and there was a laugh that burst through your chest.
You and Lemon ended up staying at that apartment for about three more days, waiting to see if Tangerine would return. All of his clothes were here, and you weren't entirely sure he even had his wallet in his pajamas -but he didn't show back up.
Not that he hadn't been in contact, Lemon had been both answering and not answering phone calls from him almost by the hour. He always ran to another room to answer them though, and you respected the privacy -it's not like you wanted to hear from Tangerine anyway.
Even though he was your friend and you were worried, you knew it best not to talk to him.
"You're a fuckin' idiot, mate," Lemon hissed out -bitter and disapproving, "-none of it makes any fuckin' sense, I swear you were-"
There was silence for a minute, you assumed Tangerine interrupted him.
"Are you really fuckin' serious with me right now?" Came back with a much harsher sentiment and the tone of it chilled you to the bone -Lemon was mad.
Which you'd really only seen once or twice, in grade school, either when someone picked on you and you cried (both boys reacted similarly to that) or when someone, unprompted, hurt Tangerine.
You were suddenly flashed back to your senior prom when a guy had asked you but it had all turned out to be some joke. 'He's fuckin' stupid not to like you, love,' rang through your head -familiar blue eyes and arm wrapped solidly around you pulled you into his side, '-doesn't deserve you anyway.'
There was a bitter taste in your mouth.
Lemon pulled you out of your thoughts, "What were 'ey supposed to think, mate? That you were so joyous you couldn't stay fuckin' still?!"
You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, mindlessly packing your bag. The next piece made you stutter to a stop. Hands lingering on a long-sleeved button-up, one you'd borrowed from Tangerine and he'd never asked for back, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest.
No more crying, you thought.
With not a word, you took the fabric in your hands, leaving your room, and shoving it into Tangerine's bag.
You did stay in the room for a moment, breathing in the... Tangerine of it all.
And then, you left.
"No, no, mate," Lemon laughed, incredulously, "-I'm not doin' shit for you. You come 'ere and do damage control yourself."
You pulled your bag up on your shoulder, it was just a little duffle -you didn't carry much job to job, and trailed into the living room.
Lemon immediately straightened, cutting off Tangerine, "I've got to go, brother. I think you know 'at to do."
With the precise press of a finger, he hung up.
Letting out a big sigh, Lemon turned to you, "Let me get 'is stuff, and then we'll leave, yeah?"
And you did.
You're not sure what the last call was about, but after that one, he started calling you too.
Lemon had decided to cool off on the jobs, just visiting a few cities out of want -kind of treating it like a tourist. It was weird, but not unwelcome. One of those nights, it started.
You were eating on the couch, some sort of reality TV show distracting you with Lemon -when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. You unhesitatingly went to pick it up, eyes smoothing across the name-
'Tan 🍊'.
Staring at it for a moment in disbelief, you quickly declined and set your phone back on the coffee table.
He didn't call you again until late that night when Lemon was asleep in his room; you weren't asleep, to be fair, just staring up at the ceiling.
The name flickered across your screen, and with a little hesitation, you answered.
"What the hell do you want, Tan?"
He was silent for a minute, slow to respond -speaking a little in disbelief, "Hey, love."
"Tangerine, don't-" you started, something breaking in your voice -you cleared your throat, "-That's not fair."
"Love-"
"You're being mean," you echoed out, tone a little broken and weepy -it was all you could say.
He was silent for a long while then, almost exhausted, "I'm sorry."
"It feels like," and you could feel the tears bubbling up, "-it feels like when that stupid guy ditched me at prom," your voice got much quieter -a little pathetic but you didn’t care, "-but you're not here, Tan."
'I want you here,' went unsaid.
"I'm sorry," he repeated -but this time a little more dim.
"Don't you think I deserve to hear that in person?" You offered -swallowed back a sob, you were crying by now, just silent tears down your cheeks, "Don't you have any respect for me-"
"I never meant to-"
"Save it," you interrupted -tired and exhausted, "-I need to sleep."
Before he could say another word, you hung up.
And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, that was between you and the apartment walls.
He didn't stop after that night, calling you more than Lemon -he still answered. You didn't. You had nothing to say to him, until he decided to apologize, in person. Or even just come back at all. He couldn't run forever. No matter how much he didn't want to reject you, you needed to hear it.
Couldn't he understand that?
Because every day he didn't, there was a traitorous little part of you that held onto the hope that maybe he had just been overwhelmed. Maybe he just wasn't ready.
And that hurt more than anything else. That he wouldn't come to tell you otherwise, when you already knew it.
There were a few times he'd call you, and Lemon would call him back: 'Just leave 'em alone, mate.' And then, he'd disappear off into a room -ready to talk about whatever they did.
And then, about a month after the start of it all, you heard a knock on the door.
It was a normal day, where you and Lemon ate takeout and watched whatever show was on -which was often shitty. He didn't talk about Tangerine, so the conversations were more lighthearted -made you feel better.
But when you heard the door, you froze.
Lemon seemed to be looking for your reaction, brown eyes darting all over your face. And for a moment, you were relieved that he was okay but then your face settled into something strained.
You told him you loved him and he ran away. You didn't think it could get much worse than rejection, but it did.
Lemon took the look as a sign to gently rub your shoulder, comforting, before standing up and heading to the door.
Deciding to focus on the TV and eat, you did so. You only flinched when he swung open the door, and in quiet whispers, you heard his voice again. It felt like your whole world was crumbling, you thought you were ready for this -the rejection. But you still loved him so much-
You blinked away tears, determined not to let him see you cry. You wouldn't accept pity, not from him.
You knew his footfall, knew exactly where he stopped behind the couch and you even felt his hand come to clutch it right by your head. You ignored him.
"Y/N," he started and his voice seemed a little wrecked.
Not knowing entirely why (or maybe knowing exactly), you turned to meet him.
Tangerine was disheveled, hair messy like he'd been running his hand through it for days -which you knew he did when he was nervous, and his new suit messy. He did look a little like he'd been in a bar fight, and won. You also knew he did that when he needed some stress relief.
Was that why he was here? For refuge?
"I-"
You abruptly stood up, food falling from your lap, and somehow safely onto the couch, "I'm too tired for this."
Tangerine looked at you for a moment, and you thought it was a little desperate but you smushed the idea without hesitation.
This time, you were the one to run away from him.
You found immediate solace in your room, slinking against the door and breathing so quickly -your eyes fogged up. Needing something to do, you decided to unpack your bag.
Unwillingly, you heard a mutter of voices, and even Lemon's footfall as he disappeared into his room. Tangerine took a bit longer, but when you heard the door shut, you let out a long sigh of relief. Not tonight.
Before you could finish with your clothes though, you heard his steps again -slow and hesitant. You thought for a second that maybe he was leaving again, and something in your stomach twisted.
Instead, though, all you hear was them booming closer. You stilled.
You had the off thought to run over and lock it, but it was too late then. The door opened slowly like he wasn't sure if you were asleep. And you chastised yourself for not thinking of that.
When he opened it all the way, his eyes landed squarely on you. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you could shut him down and go to bed.
Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.
Your eyes darted to it, his hand clutching a shirt -the shirt you had shoved back into his bag. How did he even know it was different?
"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.
"Tangerine," you countered, swallowing back the heaviness in your voice, "-that's yours."
"'S not," he explained, "-I fuckin' gave it to you."
"You let me borrow it," you clarified, tone wavering slightly, "-I'm just returning it."
"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"
"Tangerine."
"Take the fuckin' shirt, love," he reiterated, "'s not mine anymore."
"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-can you not? It's late, and I'm tired-"
"It's your shirt," he interrupted, something in his eyes but you couldn't quite label it, "-take it, and I'll fuckin' leave you alone, yeah?"
"I'm not-" you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment -trying to bat away the tears, the frustration, "-Tangerine, I don't want it."
"Well, I want you to fuckin' have it."
"Do you think about what I want?" you echoed, "-Ever?"
Tangerine opened his mouth, but you were on a roll now.
"I..." you laughed incredulously, looking up to stop your tears (you blinked them away), "-Tangerine, it's been a month."
He tried again, but you didn't let him.
"You. You left," you sniffled slightly, clearing your throat -prolonging the inevitable, "-Tangerine, I... I told you that I loved you and you ran away."
"Love," he started, small and barely there.
"Stop-" you swallowed, "-Don't call me that, it's not... it's not fair."
"How is it not fair?"
"You don't-" you groaned, swiping at your eyes -you were crying now, and out of the corner of your eye you saw his hand twitch (like he wanted to comfort you).
He stood in silence waiting, patient.
"Tangerine, why didn't you just tell me then?" You asked the question that bounced around your mind ever since he left.
"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"
You flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the name again -something twisting in your stomach, and squeezed your eyes shut. Breathing a big breath in through your nose, you started.
"That you don't love me," you clarified, and now your voice was shaking and your eyes were blurry, "You could've-"
Tangerine seemed to be processing something, a flicker in his eyes.
"You could've made it so much easier if you'd just-" you frustratingly wiped your eyes again, "-said that. But instead, you ran away, and all I could think about was what I had done wrong for you to-"
"You didn't do anythin' wrong."
"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth?" You practically begged, "-Why don't you tell me now? So I don't have to... So, I know."
"That's not..."
"Tangerine," he looked at you -and you but back a sob, "-I deserve the truth. Just say it. I know you're scared you'll hurt me, but I... I've survived worse."
"What makes ya think it'll hurt you?" He offered, and your heart in your chest started beating loudly -ringing in your ears.
"Because you ran away," you repeat, wiping at your eyes again, "-I think that makes the answer pretty clear."
"Y/N-"
"Just fucking reject me!" you exclaimed, not loud enough to bother neighbors but enough to bounce around the room (Lemon probably woke up to it), "-It's not that hard, Tan, you've practically done it before."
He seemed to flinch at that, grimace even, at the mention of what he'd done. You were glad he felt some kind of guilt. Still, he remained quiet.
"For the love of god, Tangerine-" you echoed out, shaky now and your heart on the floor -vulnerable, "-just say it. It's not that hard."
"I fuckin' can't," he finally answered -something bubbling up in his tone; his hands clenched by his sides -shirt still clutched between his fingers.
"Can't," you questioned, voice shaky and tears building in your eyes, "-or won't?"
"Can't," he reiterated.
"This is ridiculous, Tangerine," you whimpered -swallowing back a sob, "-you can't give me fucking peace?"
"Y/N-"
"Give me a reason," you interrupted, brash, "-give me the reason you can't reject me right here right now."
"It's not 'at fuckin' simple, love," he remarked, low in tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated.
"Nothing ever is!" you reasoned, "-Just tell me, that's all I want."
"It's not..."
"Tangerine, please."
He swallowed, eyes dipping to yours -scanning over you with your no doubt red eyes and shaky hands. Like he was thinking, deciding on what to say. All you could see was reluctance.
He let out a big long sigh, fidgeting with his hands (and the shirt in the mix).
"Tangerine-"
"'S not how I feel."
You furrowed your brows, "What?"
"I can't..." he trailed off, eyes off you and flickering toward the ground, "-I can't reject you because it's not what I feel, love."
Your breathing halted in your chest. Heart twisting into something so complex, sad and angry and hopeful.
There's no way, he- Why the hell did he run away?
"That's not funny, Tangerine."
"It's not a fuckin' joke," he responded, eyes finally back on yours -and you tried to read them all you could.
"Stop, no," you echoed out, shaking your head, "-don't pity me, just tell me the truth-"
"I am," he reiterated.
"No you're not," you laughed incredulously, "-it makes no sense."
He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, "I was scared."
"That's not-" you started, before clearing your throat, "Do you not think I was scared? That I wasn't putting everything on the line to say that? I thought I was going to lose you and then I did-"
"You didn't lose me," he spoke, softer, "-you could never lose me, love."
"I did, Tan," you sniffled, "-I lost you."
"No-"
"Tangerine," you echoed, "-you left. And I thought, I thought that my best friend was gone. I thought that because I had stupid feelings I lost you. You ran away, Tan!"
"They aren't stupid," he responded and it seemed that he was deciding on whether to step closer -you took a preemptive step back.
"At least," you sighed out, voice cracking, "-at least you knew the truth, I... I didn't know shit. You could have never come back-"
"I did," he interrupted, "-I did come back, love. And I know I'm fuckin' stupid, Lemon has been drillin' it in my head for weeks. I regret walkin' out of 'at fuckin' room so much."
His eyes were shiny with tears now, as he stepped forward into your room -hands reaching forward like he'd wanted to touch you, but he stopped.
"How the hell am I supposed to believe you? What if you just-" you sniffled, "-run away again?"
"I won't," he spoke -unwavering, "-I swear on whatever fuckin' god is up there, 'at I won't do it again."
"I don't-" you whispered out, clutched at your arms.
"I never meant to hurt you, love," he echoed out, stepping closer, "-I fuckin' hate myself for doin' it. I will never fuckin' do it again."
"Tangerine, this isn't-"
"I'm fuckin' madly in love with you," he finished, laughing a little -slowly placing his hands on your arms. You didn't move away, and he seemed to smile at that, "-'ave been since we were kids, and you pulled 'at greedy shit on me."
"It wasn't greedy," you defended.
"Most certainly fuckin' was," he tsked back, moving one hand to your face -thumb wiping back and forth.
Your heart fluttered in your chest, but there was still something heavy in your stomach. Tossing like waves.
"I'm sorry," he said, finally, "-I got fuckin' scared and ran away. It wasn't fair to you, and-" his hand brushed against your cheek, "-I'd beat myself bloody senseless if I could."
You laughed at that for a moment, and his smile got a little wider.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, something clawing up your throat again.
He frowned, allowing his hand to fall to his side -sighing, "I'm a fuckin' coward, love."
You opened your mouth to say something, anything.
"You confessed to me and it was so fuckin' brave," he looked at you like you were the sun then, bright and warm, "-and I... I couldn't spit out a fuckin' word. I just went into autopilot and..."
"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.
"Yeah," he spoke, confirming, "-ran away."
Before you could hold your tongue, words slipped out, "That is pretty cowardly."
Tangerine laughed, a big one, and something in you warmed -a smile perking onto your lips.
"It is," he agreed, "-I'll give you fuckin' 'at."
And then he paused, eye flitting over you -seeming to detail all your features in his head. Tracing over your nose, your eyes, your eyebrows, your lips-
"Are we okay, love?"
It was soft and hopeful, and something in you softened -your hurt letting up just a smidge. It wasn't gone, not yet.
"Yeah, we're good," you hummed out, taking a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, "-but you have a lot to fix."
"I know," he hummed back, blue eyes soft and affectionate, "-I'll do it. Whatever you fuckin' want."
"Well," you smiled, so close to his face -merely a breath away, "-I think I've got my first idea."
"Do you?" He offered with a smirk, hands coming to hold the sides of your face.
"Yeah," you brought your hands up on top of his, "-kiss me, please."
Tangerine didn't hesitate after that, pulling you closer with the grasp of his hands -still somehow gentle. His mustache tickled your upper lip, and you laughed a little -a grin spreading along his own lips in response. And after, it was slow, languid, each press of the lips just a touch more desperate -like you were his oxygen. Fingers pressed into your skin, your head went a little fuzzy -fingers twisting around his palms.
Speaking of oxygen, you parted.
Before you could so much as say a word though, Tangerine pressed a small one to your lips -simple. You laughed a little.
And then again, and again, and again, and again-
"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."
"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.
And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.
"Tan?"
"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.
You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"
Tangerine opened his mouth.
"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.
"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."
You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"
"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."
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pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months
Text
Mastermind
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Since the mission in Tokyo, you wanted Tangerine out of your life as soon as possible. Instead, he stormed back in to save you from yourself.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: excessive amount of swearing, sexual themes, canon like violence, mentions of violence, blood, career sexism, Enemies To Lovers <3
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You were only supposed to snatch a stupid briefcase for your friend, Carver. Instead, your trip ended with a crushed up train, three concussions, one broken arm, multiple bruised egos, and a whole lot of unrequested fun facts about Thomas The Tank Engine.
Oh, and a man you were convinced wanted to become your mortal enemy.
You had heard about the infamous Twins in passing — the Bolivia case mostly — and you never questioned anyone when they assured you they were professionals. At least not until you saw them fuck up more than once in one evening.
You liked Lemon. He was a decent guy, a smart assassin, and he made you laugh with his corny obsession with a children's show.
His brother however — what a fucking asshole!
Tangerine had came in strong with an attitude. He was just eye roll here, sucker punch there, and whine, whine, whine. He also had the worst timing, somehow always running into you whenever you were trying (and failing) to do your fucking job.
He seemed just as irritated by you as you were by him, however it was obvious he loved having you at his mercy: wether that was stuck pressed between the train and his arms, with his gun lodged into your throat, or hearing you say "please" and "thank you" when he swooped in like a devilish knight and saved you from a deadly bullet to the stomach.
Still, you couldn't leave Tangerine's deranged ass quicker once the nightmare that had been that mission was finally over.
You really didn't think you'd see the twins again — certainly not at the same club where you were supposed to carry out your, rather simple, information extraction mission but when you do, your eyes narrow.
Lemon looks mostly casual. His dyed platinum hair is curled around his face as he leans his arm around the booth he's sitting in, casually conversing with another man you don't know.
Standing next to the booth, Tangerine looks even less casual. He's wearing his all too familiar dark blue blazer. His hair and mustache are just as neat as they had been on the train that evening and you smirk. He has a lit cigarette dangling from his lips as he occasionally takes it out and obnoxiously blows smoke into the air.
He looks infuriatingly good.
You cross your arms, watching them from across the room. You look around. Your target hadn't made an appearance yet and in the meantime you'd had to turn down many desperate and drunk men swarming you for your attention.
"Fancy seeing you here, luv." You smirk, hearing his voice, hoarse and velvety, near your ear. He'd found you quickly. Seems like he has a talent for that and you wonder if he'd somehow planted a tracker on you.
"Stalking me now, Orange?" You ask, not even bothering to turn around as you lean on the bar counter and start to intentionally swirl your drink around the glass.
"Tangerine." He corrects.
You turn this time. Your eyes meet his chest and they start to slowly move up until you can look at him in his annoyingly beautiful blue eyes, "Potayto, potahto." You say, shrugging your shoulders.
"Well, aren't ya as chirpy as ever, Poppy." Tangerine snarls. Your lips curl hearing the code name you'd used on that train. You've been using it ever since.
You look around seeing your target walk into a small room in the corner of the club. You run a hand in your hair, smack your lips together, and glance nonchalantly at Tangerine. You send him a sweet smile, "Well, Clementine, I always enjoy our little chats but I'm quite busy and don't have time for your potty-mouth right now." You turn away from him.
He catches your arm, "I really wouldn't follow im in there if I were ya, darlin" He warns seriously. You turn around, skeptical, but listen to him anyway.
"Why is that?" You ask, crossing your arms.
"Because, luv," Tangerine smirks as he firmly holds your shoulders and turns you both around. Nonchalantly, he gestures towards the door to the little room the man walked into, "That bastard hired Lemon and I to kill ya."
You tense, "What?" You spin around, heart pounding.
"Ya seriously din't think you'd been asked to be a fucking honeypot without any exterior motives?" You feel insulted until Tangerine continues, “You're an assassin, darlin', and a pretty damn fucking good one. Having you as a honeypot is a crime in itself." You realize it's the first time Tangerine has complimented you and he's looking at you with an unusually concerned expression.
"So, what are you waiting for?" You blink, completely serious.
"Excuse me?"
"Kill me." You say calmly, "Since when do you and Lemon not finish a job?"
The brunet looks at you like you've gone completely insane (which maybe you have) and then laughs, "Ya want me to kill ya, doll?" Tangerine genuinely looks like he's just heard the funniest thing in his life. However, his eyes narrow darkly and his hands curl harshly around your arm, "Fine."
Sure, you know Tangerine had been ruthless on that train but you'd also been extremely aware that he'd intentionally missed opportunities he had to kill or badly wound you. So, when he yanks you into the men's bathroom, you panic.
You pull against his arm and push against chest as you try to take out the small knife you always cram inside your boot, but Tangerine is too quick. Your body is suddenly thrown across the bathroom like you're nothing and you crash into the mirror, ribs hitting the sink. You stare at him, eyes fluttering from the pain as you sway on your feet and clutch your side.
Tangerine looks completely unfazed as he struts over to you and then grabs your chin between his fingers so forcefully you unintentionally whimper, "Where's the assassin I met on the train, huh?" He asks, his voice smooth, "Haven't given up so easily, have ya, darlin'?"
You stare at him. He's taunting you. He wants you to fight him. Quickly, you knee him in the groin and side kick him to the ground. He stumbles a little but recovers from the hit. A sensible voice in your head screams at you to run but instead you pull Tangerine up by the collar of his expensive suit and body slam him against the wall, your forearm crushing his throat.
When you look at him, Tangerine is smirking cockily, "Atta' girl." He croaks.
You realize a little too late that the only reason you managed to pin Tangerine to the wall was because he was letting you. The moment he resists, you're the one easily pinned as one of his hands presses your wrists above your head.
Time suddenly feels unimportant as you look into his eyes. “Am I in danger?" You whisper, breathlessly.
Tangerine's stoic expression falters a little and he drops your arms and looks around the bathroom. He turns back to you, running a hand in his hair. “Yes." Your heart leaps, “Lemon and I mean you no harm, but someone else wants you dead, Poppy."
His hand slides down your back as he leads you outside of the bathroom and back into the busy noise of the club. You catch his arm as he walks in front of you, "Tangerine, wait," You say, voice raspy. You watch him turn around. His hair is messy from his hand and he's looking at you like he's never heard you say his name before.
Your heart is beating out of your chest and you want to ask him to stay. A little part of you wants him to stay so he can take care of you. Only, you can't ask him that. You've looked after yourself and you've long accepted that that's how it would always be.
"What?" Tangerine frowns, wearing an irritatingly handsome expression for someone that looks so confused and, frankly, a little annoyed.
You frown and, as hard as you can, slap him across the face. From his profile, you can see a dark glimmer appear in his eyes and his jaw tightens. He doesn't react as he slowly looks at you again, and then he can't because you're kissing him.
You bury your nails into his cheeks as he wastes no time to grip your hips with his hands. You kiss him passionately and clumsily — like you've never kissed anyone before but somehow when his lips move against yours it still feels flawless.
"Fuck," Tangerine groans when you bite his lower lip and smile proudly.
He pulls you closer to him and his hand comes up to hold your neck as his fingers bury themselves in your hair. He jerks your head backwards painfully but you groan in approval. Tangerine begins to suck on the skin of your neck like he's been starved of you for years.
You don't want him to pull away when you feel him move so you chase his lips. He chuckles, his voice low, and cups your cheeks in his hands as he looks at you. His eyes are weirdly affectionate for a man who's a cold blooded killer.
"Are you going to turn me in?" You ask him, your face still in his hands.
"What didn't ya understand when I told ya Lemon and I won't cause you any harm?" He rolls his eyes, gently patting your cheek. Slowly, as if savoring the touch of your skin, he slides his hands down your arms and then intertwines your fingers with his, "Come on, we're leaving."
You let him lead you through the sweaty bodies of the dancing crowd until you reach the booth where Lemon sits. He sees his brother and then his eyes flicker to your hands and the corner of his lips curl, "I see you found er," Lemon waves at you.
"Bugger off," Tangerine snarls, hearing something in Lemon's voice that you hadn't, "And get off your fucking arse, Lemon," He adds, "I don't wanna deal with that bloody bastard when he realizes we aren't killing er. I don't want his filth on my suit. I like this suit."
Tangerine lets your hand go to adjust his collar. You cross your arms and look around the club. Accidentally, you make eye contact with someone and your entire body freezes.
He sees you before you can look away. Quickly, you turn to Lemon and Tangerine, who haven't stopped bickering, and slap Tangerine's chest to get his attention. He looks at you, eyebrow raised, "Hate to break up the love-fest boys, but I think our little friend just realized you lads plan on keeping me fucking breathing." You hiss.
"Bloody fucker." Tangerine whispers, his eyes glued on the man approaching you all as Lemon stands. Lemon pulls out his gun and unlocks it with a click. You bend over to take the knife from inside your boot but the moment you have it in your hands, Tangerine snatches it from you and replaces it with his gun.
"I don't want this," You deadpan.
"Don't argue." He squints at you and twirls your knife in his hand.
Ignoring him, you reach for your weapon anyway, "I like my knife, thanks."
Tangerine tuts and holds it above his head, smirking, "Guns are safer, luv." He patronizes.
"Misogynist asshole." You grumble, earning a frown from him.
"Mates, now ain't the time." Lemon interrupts sternly. You look behind him and see that the man who'd hired you to kill him, just for him to kill you, has a few other bulky looking buddies with him and they're much closer than they were earlier.
Without hesitation and because Tangerine is distracted, you manage to jump up and take the knife from his hand. You then proceed to meticulously launch it past the swarm of dancing bodies. With a smoosh it lands smack in the middle of one the men's head and the sound of his body hitting the ground causes a mass panic.
"Fucking brilliant," Tangerine scolds, looking annoyed, "Now ya lost the fucking knife." His hand wraps around your forearm and he whispers in your ear, "And I ain't misogynistic, sweetheart, I just don’t wanna see ya hurt," He admits.
He starts to pull you away but you wiggle out of his grip, "Poppy!" He shouts as you sprint towards the men.
Fuck this, you think, if those motherfuckers want you dead then you won't wait around for them to kill you – you'll kill them first.
You take the man closest to you in a scissor leg takedown, slamming him onto the ground. You snatch your knife from the dead man's head as he lays not far from you and slit the throat of the man you're pinning to the ground. You spin your head around and throw Tangerine his gun. Quickly, he unlocks it and, with Lemon, starts shooting past the innocent civilians and manages to fatally hit a few of the men.
You make your way to the leader and front kick him in the hand so he drops his gun. When he does, you try and bend over to retrieve it from where it fell only the man manages to punch you in the jaw. You stumble over, tears pricking your eyes from the pain, but stand up anyways. "Who the fuck are you?" You demand, returning a punch that the man easily avoids. He backhand slaps you so hard you groan. You fall onto your knees and your knife slides out your hands and across the floor.
"You don't remember me?" The man asks with a snarl, his Irish accent thick.
"No." You hiss, crawling to reach your knife. Only, the man kicks you in the stomach and you can't help the scream that leaves your lips.
You blink, cheeks and palms pressed to the floor as you helplessly watch Tangerine and Lemon in action. There had been more men then you'd anticipated and while the Twins can certainly assert themselves in combat, they're far too concerned with defending themselves to help you.
You feel a hand grip your hair and the man harshly turns you around so he's straddling your hips. He presses your knife against your neck and smiles at you. He's young, clean-shaven, and has moles sprinkled across his cheeks like small freckles. You stare at him only to have him spit in your face. Shutting your eyes, you snap, "What the fuck?" and struggle against him.
"You took everything from me, Y/n." He growls and your heart leaps. He knows your name.
"I don't even know who you are!" You try to buck your hips so he falls but he's too strong.
"You stole my job. The hit on the Senator and his family a few months ago, remember them?" You nod, "Well it was mine and you swooped in and took it from me. My reputation, gone in seconds because of some inexperienced, useless, brat." He rants like a madman and presses the knife harder until it strains crimson.
"Everyone steals jobs, it happens." You explain, voice hoarse.
"And yet you couldn't even finish it."
You can barely breathe anymore. "I couldn't kill the child." You explain.
"I know. I did, and yet you still took all the fucking credit," He smirks and lifts his arm. "You ruined my reputation – everyone said I was beaten to the task by a fucking girl – and now you're gonna pay." You squeeze your eyes shut.
Instead of the pain from the knife you hear one gunshot and suddenly the man collapses onto you. Instantly, you sit up and shove him away. Your head snaps up, eyes wide, to see whoever just shot him.
Tangerine stands over you, tucking his gun back into his pants behind him. There's blood splattered across his cheeks but you don't think it's his. He grins, "Now he's a fucking misogynistic bastard." He holds out his hand and helps you stand, "Ya ok, luv?"
You nod slowly and look around the club. There are bodies everywhere. Lemon stands in the center, cleaning his gun and he tilts his head at you, "We should skedaddle before the coppers come." He points out.
You nod again and let Tangerine and Lemon walk you out and into their car.
* * *
The Twins house is as you would have imagined. It's basically a mansion and just as polarized as they are. All the rooms Tangerine touches are neat and fancy, while whatever is Lemons has more of a messy, boyish, charm.
You're sitting on the kitchen counter as Tangerine presses alcohol to your neck as he cleans your wound. He's uncharacteristically gentle with you,
"So, what did that wanker want with you anyway?" He asks, not looking into your eyes.
You grimace, "I stole his hit, apparently."
Tangerine raises his brow, "And he wanted to kill you because of it?"
"I also took his credit for killing the Senator's four year old son," You sigh, "When in reality, I couldn't bring myself to harm the little boy." You feel pathetic in front of Tangerine, who is silent for a moment until he says,
"I wouldn't have killed him either."
You look up at him, "Really?"
He looks you in the eyes, "Really. I don't harm kids." He pauses and then moves some hair away from your face so he can clean some more scratches you have on your skin, "Why'd ya take credit for the kill?"
"I didn't want to seem weak in front of my employer. He already trusts men more than women." Your sentence dies and you look away, "This is a male dominated business, you know? Like most careers, us women have to survive somehow." You bury your head in your hands, "I know it's dishonest but the only reason I got that job on the bullet train was because I earned a little reputation from the Senator hit."
Tangerine suddenly laughs and it makes you turn your head towards him again, "What?"
"I understand, luv. Ya don't need to explain yourself."
"You do?"
He kisses your forehead quickly, "Mmhm."
You feel weirdly fuzzy with his lips on your skin and you remember your previous kiss. You aren't sure if you should mention it, or simply pretend it had never happened. Tangerine pulls away from your skin, but his finger slips under your chin and tilts your head to look at him. His eyes jump from yours, then down to your lips, and you hold your breath.
When he kisses you, you know there is no need for talk anymore.
"Should have known you had a soft spot for me." You say anyway, smirking into his lips.
Tangerine frowns, "What's that, sugar?"
"You're secretly a softie, aren't you?" You tease him with a smile.
Unsurprisingly, his frown deepens and he warns, "You're startin' to get on my nerves, sweetheart. Continue like this and next time, I'll leave ya to defend yourself from that arsehole."
You fake hurt, dramatically crossing your hands over your heart, and flutter your eyelashes at him, "You wouldn't, Tan."
"Nah," Lemon interrupts the banter, entering the kitchen with his pink boxers and his mouth full of mint toothpaste, "He couldn't leave ya, Poppy. You're all he ever talks about."
"Shove one up your arse, Lemon." Tangerine hisses, eyes narrowing at his brother.
"You dug your own grave, mate, lay in it." Lemon dismisses him with his hand, "G'night." He smiles at you and spits in the skin. Tangerine watches Lemon walk out of the room. His face is deformed into an annoyed expression,and the moment Lemon shuts the door behind him, Tangerine looks at you.
"Zip it." He demands. He taps your upper thigh as an indication for you to jump off the counter. When you do, his hands linger on your waist, "Come on, you're up way past your bedtime, luv." He smirks at his own joke as he leads you out the kitchen and down the hallway.
Tangerine's room smells like him and is cleaner than your entire apartment. You walk to the queen-sized bed and marvel at how comfortable it is when you sit on it. "Here," Tangerine says nonchalantly and hands you one of his shirts. He turns around, making sure you have your privacy, as he starts to unravel his blue-tie.
You don't protest as you step out of your dress and throw his shirt over your head. You feel out of place when Tangerine turns back around and looks you up and down. He raises one eyebrow, "Well?"
"Well what?" You ask, confused.
"Get into the bloody bed, Poppy." He says harshly.
"What? Where are you sleeping?"
Tangerine runs a hand in his hair, "In the living room."
"Bullshit. You can sleep in your own bed, I’ll sleep on the couch." You pause, eyes scrunching, "Or I- I'll juts go home."
Tangerine smirks, "In my shirt?" He motions to your dress on the ground and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, "Just shut up and listen to me for once." He says.
"Then you stay too. There is enough room," You reason as you walk to one side and dramatically pull down the covers. You stare at him with wide eyes and pat the mattress, "You aren't afraid to sleep with a woman, are you now?" You tease.
Tangerine's cheeks flame and he grumbles something under his breath but he’s shedding his blazer. You avert your gaze and climb under the covers.
Your back is turned to Tangerine as you hold your breath, eyes bouncing around the room. Then, the light switches off, the bed dips and suddenly you feel warmth next to you.
"Tan?" You whisper into the darkness after a moment.
You hear him shift in the bed and then a small hum to tell you he' listening, "Poppet," He mutters and your lips curl upwards.
"Thank you.”
Silence.
"While I do appreciate the gratitude, why ya thanking me?" He asks, his voice low.
"Thank you for not killing me, and saving my ass, and of course letting me stay here — with you and your brother — " Your chest feels lighter and your eyelids start to feel sleepy. You feel Tangerine shift in the bed again and suddenly his arm is around your waist.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps and you shiver as Tangerine pulls you into him until you're curled up against his chest. You let out a shaky breath when you feel his cheek rest near yours, "Shhh, sleep now, luv. We'll leave the thank yous for tomorrow, hmm?" His voice is uncharacteristically sweet.
You hum in approval and let your eyes flutter shut. You start to drift in and out of sleep but you're almost certain you hear Tangerine mutter, "I'd never let anything bad happen to ya, Poppy. I promise, you're safe with me," just before you fall into the most relaxing sleep you know you'll ever have.
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imyourbratzdoll · 3 months
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Tangerine smut please?
hi! sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy this request!
summary - a handsome stranger makes you cum on the train.
warning - smut, fingering, public stuff.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
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The day started off perfect, you decided to wear your new outfit that consisted of a black long sleeved shirt underneath a cropped green button up and a matching short skirt. You made yourself the perfect coffee and headed to the train station before finding the perfect seat inside. You drowned out the rest of the world, your head buried in a book. Until you are suddenly pulled out of it by three men sitting on the seats beside you, your eyes widen when you make eye contact with a very attractive man in a blue suit.
You try to ignore them by focusing on your book but their constant whispering pierce through your concentration and you nearly drop your book as you hear a voice. “Excuse me, love.” You look back up and notice the handsome man now standing over you. You can feel yourself pulse between your legs and it’s confusing because you’ve never reacted like this before. “Do you mind if I sit here? You see, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are and my brother is being a pain.” You blink, slowly nodding and sucking in a breath as he slides into the seat next to you, his scent causing you to become dizzy with lust. “Thanks, love.” 
You try to go back to your book, but you can’t and you can feel him staring at you once in a while. You begin to squirm in your seat, his thigh brushes against you causing a whimper to escape before you can stop it. Your face flushes, eyes wide and you try to hide. 
Tangerine smirks. “Do I make you nervous, love?” You ignore him, scooting closer to the window, feeling embarrassed because you want to jump him. “You know, I know something that will take those nerves away, love. Do you wanna try?” You look at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at him with wide eyes. “But you’ll have to very quiet, I wouldn’t want to punish you for being a naughty girl.” You feel yourself throb, nails digging into your palms as you hold back a whimper at his words. 
“O–okay…” Your breath hitches as his hand makes contact with your thigh, sliding up it until it disappears underneath your skirt. He leans closer to you, blocking anyone’s view of what he’s about to do to you. 
“No knickers, love? It’s like you knew you were going to be a slut today.” His fingers make contact with your clit, rubbing it nice and slow, watching you shake and whimper softly from his movements. “Good girl, you’re being nice and quiet for me.” He leans closer, sliding his fingers up and down before he begins to slowly push them inside your sopping cunt, curling them upwards, watching you struggle to keep your mouth closed. “Keep reading your book, love. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us.” Tangerine feels you squeeze around his fingers at his words, he grins. “You wanna be caught, love? Want to be caught being a naughty slut, huh?” 
You lean your head on his shoulder, shakily opening the book, unable to focus on the words as his fingers continue to thrust and curl, your hand moves to his thigh and you grip onto it, digging your nails into him as he continues to fingerfuck you. “O–oh…”
“Shh.” His moustache tickles your ear as he whispers into it. His fingers begin to hit the spongey spot deep inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back and you to arch off the chair, biting down onto your bottom lip hard enough to cause blood. Tangerine watches as you cum, juices coating his hand before you sink back down into the seat, soft whimpers escaping you. “Good girl.” He gently removes his fingers from your drenched cunt, lifting them to his mouth, eyes connecting with yours as you watch him suck the fingers that were just inside of you. 
You blink, trying to catch your breath as the man winks at you, sliding a piece of paper with his name and number on it before he stands. “Call me when you need to get off again, love.” With that, he leaves, disappearing down the train. You stare at the piece of paper, feeling yourself begin to throb again at the thought of him touching you. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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sebsbarnes · 1 month
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too sweet || tangerine
tangerine x reader
summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that.
warnings: none
word count: 1.2k+
a/n: requested by @whimsical-roasting inspired by lyrics from hozier's new song too sweet :)
masterlist
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tangerine was harsh, uninviting. rigid and stern. he wasn't one to make small talk with the store clerk or mutter a hello to the person walking past him on the street. that was him, and he was unapologetically himself. he didn't care nor did he want to be that person who was over-joyous to strangers, it didn't entice him. what would he gain from exposing pieces of himself? he becomes vulnerable and that wasn't a word tangerine would ever describe himself as.
you were warm, inviting. gentle and kind. you were one to chat with the store clerk and greet the person walking past on the street. that was you, unapologetically yourself. you wanted to be that person who engaged with strangers whenever possible. you would gain so much from sharing and exchanging pieces of yourself with others. you felt secure.
tangerine faults himself for breaking that day he met you. he often wonders why his eyes cast a glance at you, but they did and that simple movement upturned his life.
it was a long day, a day from hell, actually. tangerine was exhausted from work and found himself dragging his feet home. his head screamed in pain, his throat felt tight from dehydration, and his stomach was practically eating itself. the flickering neon light of the convenience store caught his attention and the metal bell announced his arrival in the store. he wandered to the drink cooler and stuffed his arms with anything that sounded appealing. tangerine wanted a real dinner but unfortunately that night the snack aisle would be a five-star meal.
"you can never go wrong with these," a voice spoke and tangerine saw a pointing hand come into his field of vision. he mumbled under his breath some sort of 'thank you' and grabbed the bag of crackers.
that's when he looked over. that's when he saw you. that's when tangerine's normal hard exterior soon chiseled away in your presence. he felt his shoulders relax and he stopped gritting his teeth when you looked back at him and smiled.
"if you want something more hardy they got killer snacks up at the register. i'll admit i'm almost a regular here because of them. it's a bit embarrassing but the workers are really cool," tangerine stood there and listened to you talk. he liked the way your lips pulled up into a smile and how animated your face became. perhaps it was the pure exhaustion from the day that wore him down and made him engage in a conversation with you, or maybe it was just your warm presence.
it wasn't long after that night in the convenience store that tangerine ran into you again. he didn't see you at first but rather heard you. your booming voice and infectious laugh carried its way over to him. he was on a walk, an exercise he enjoyed, when the breeze carried you to him. he paused on the sidewalk and in some measly attempt to stall, tangerine re-stretched his legs until you came closer.
'hey! i remember you, how were those snacks?"
tangerine pretended to be caught off guard at first before responding, "pretty fuckin' good, i can't lie."
"told you!" you laughed with a wave goodbye.
tangerine found himself cemented to the sidewalk watching the back of your head disappear into the day, your arms flailing as you spoke to the friend beside you, and your voice slowly drifting away.
this would keep happening, tangerine running into you in public every few days in different places. it confused him a bit, to the point he almost considered that you were some spy out to get him and his arm would subconsciously drift to the knife in his pocket. each time he would stop himself when you began to talk about the most mundane things and share little anecdotes about yourself with him, like how last night you burnt your dinner and ate a whole bag of wonton strips you found in the back of your pantry from a recipe you cooked a year ago or how earlier that day you stepped in dog poop and didn't realize until you tracked it into the store. tangerine loved hearing you overshare and how kind you treated him even when he was a stranger.
in the months to come you and tangerine turned these random run-ins into deliberate meetings. at the park, at the movies, at a restaurant, at his home. you would notice the glances from people when tangerine stood beside you or the raised brow when tangerine was short with conversation while you talked the person's ear off.
"i know i'm not the friendliest but at least i don't grimace in people's faces," tangerine chided.
you tsked, running a hand up and down his bicep, "oh tang, don't mind them. they just don't know you like i do."
but he did start to mind how others perceived him after the two of you started dating. most people knew how outgoing and sweet you were, but tangerine didn't want to taint the image of you with him by your side. he didn't want people to start believing you were also this cold, stern, person. you couldn't even be if you tried. not only this but he felt guilty hiding his job from you. had you been aware you wouldn't be with him. each day you prioritized the happiness of others and never acted with malice, he was the stark contrast. he hated how he was beginning to love the sweetness.
it was late, 3am to be exact, and the two of you were lying in bed. your legs wrapped around tangerine and his head propped up on the satin. the tv cast a glow onto the bed, the array of colors illuminating your skin. it was an action movie. fast-paced, big cars, bad people, and drugs. your hand was placed on tangerine's cheek, the small digit of your thumb caressing the empty space below his eye. a gun sounded and your body jolted, eyebrows pulled together at the sight of the body falling to the ground.
"that's so scary. i can't believe there are people out there who want to hurt others," you sighed.
tangerine stiffened. he could hear the beat of his heart drumming in his ears and the way his hands became clammy. he watched as the main character aimed his gun at another person and pulled the trigger with no hesitation. that was him. he was watching himself and without you even knowing, you were also watching him. who he really was.
"why's your heart beating so fast. you a lil scaredy cat hm?" you joked rubbing your palm on his chest.
tangerine stifled a fake laugh, "just gettin' nervous for him," he winced at how pitiful his excuse was but you didn't seem to catch on.
he felt sick. you were too sweet for him, like grapes at the bottom of a barrel, aging into a sweet wine. he was foul-mouthed, hot-headed, impolite, and dangerous. he wasn't meant for you, didn't deserve you. he only ever knew the bold and strong taste of a black coffee or a neat whiskey. he wasn't used to the sweet flavor.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
tangerine angst please? I want to sob :(
He’s thought before, in passing, that maybe he should tone down his vocabulary. He knows that if he lets himself keep spewing filth around Lemon, Ladybug, or any of his other work friends, that something will slip out around you. It’s just a matter of time, and unfortunately, that time is now.
It’s a gruff, mumbled, half-hearted, “Oh, fuck off,” when you chide him for leaving his socks on the floor. He means it as more of an, ‘I’ll get them later,’, but his go-to when confronted is aggression, and even if he doesn’t mean it towards you, he says it anyways.
He barely even thinks twice about it, flipping through another page of the magazine he’s reading. The words feel casual, natural even, coming out of his mouth, so when there’s tense, stifling silence after them, he just assumes you’ve given up.
Instead you stiffen, he feels it where his hand lays against your own. Then you tear yours out of his grasp, and turn away from him on the mattress.
He glances over to see you curling in on yourself, and something aches in the pit of his stomach.
"Love," He prods gently at your shoulder, "Hey, what's that about?"
No response.
"C'mon," He pats you a little firmer, "I'm sorry, alright? 'Didn't mean to say that. Why don't you turn over now, yeah?"
More silence. When he gives up on waiting for a response his hand slips around your stomach, just under your breasts. He moves to pull you over, to flip you so that he can press a kiss to your lips and all will be well again.
Instead of rolling, you jerk. You turn your hip so that his hands slides off of you, and you flip the blanket over yourself. That ache in his belly only grows, and he sets the magazine down.
"Sweetheart," He croons, voice placating and soft, "I'm sorry I said that to you. Wasn't very nice, was it? Jus' slipped out, I didn't mean it. I'll pick up the socks now, alright lovely?"
He feels like an idiot. Sitting there, holding his breath, waiting for you to respond. You don't. He slides out of bed anyways, hearing a faint sniffle from where you're laying on the pillow.
He crouches down to nab the socks, reaching into the bathroom to grab a box of tissues in passing. When he stuffs the socks into the laundry hamper he rounds to your side of the bed, face twisting down into an involuntary frown as you shut your eyes. Your lashes are wet, and there's streaks down your face. He's made you cry.
Every hint you've given him so far, subtle or not, tells him you don't want to be touched. But he's stubborn, maybe just the same as you, and crouches beside your head.
He bunches up a tissue in his hands, nudging it against your cheeks to smear away the tear tracks. You flinch, not having heard him approach you, and he tries to ignore the stinging behind his eyes.
"No more tears." He decides, though another one slips through your closed lids. He sighs, dabbing it away, "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't even think about it, love. It wasn't meant to be angry. I know it's... well, it's not the nicest thing I've ever said to you. But really, I just- I say it all the time. I'll be more careful, darling, I promise."
You're not sure you've ever heard his voice that soft. You know he's intimidating for a living, so you take some comfort in the fact that he can separate home and work enough to sound soothing. But what worries you is that he didn't think, that he didn't take care in conversing with you.
Your lip wobbles. You know he sees it, even if your eyes aren't open to watch his expression shift. You hear him sigh, then you feel the scrape of his mustache against your forehead where his accompanying lips press.
"I'm sorry, darling." He promises, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear, "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I'm gonna turn out the lights, okay? Let's just have a rest, then we can work it out tomorrow. If you feel like it, that is."
He briefly considers that you won't want to talk about it tomorrow. He has a momentary vision of you sitting sullenly at the counter, eggs on your fork and orange juice on your tongue. He thinks about the way you'll look with your back turned to him, fleeing a room as soon as he enters. But the worst thing he sees is your back turned to him when you walk out the door, a bag in your hand as you leave him behind.
He's not going to dwell on that.
He slips under the covers, and though he longs to reach for you, he keeps his hands to himself. He realizes that he doesn't know where to put them anymore, that every position seems awkward if you're not a part of it. He settles with his arms above his head, folded against the headboard.
He can't sleep. The light has long since been turned out, and your sniffles have died down, but he's staring at the ceiling as if it'll tell him how to fix this. His throat feels dry when he gets that flashing vision again, your back to him as you walk out of his life. He sits up abruptly, hoping he doesn't shake the bed, and storms to the bathroom.
The glass of water that he downs probably does more for his bladder than for his nerves. He stares at himself in the mirror with a hard glare, eyes biting into his own soul the way they so often do to others.
"Fuckin' prick," He scoffs at himself, head turned so he doesn't have to see his own face. He sets the glass back on the counter with a thunk, trekking back to bed and sliding under the covers without paying attention.
When he rolls onto his back again, he finds you facing him. He feels strangely caught, as if he were a toddler getting found with a pudgy hand in the cookie jar. You're staring at him, your eyes dull and defeated.
"Did I wake you?" He worries.
"No," You shake your head, voice raspy and thick with previously-shed tears, "I couldn't sleep."
"Me either." He admits, sheepish.
"You were mean to me." You state, after a moment's silence. The word cuts at his chest. Mean. It's by far the simplest insult he's ever been thrown, except, for some strange reason, it hurts more than motherfucker. It's not gaudy or overexaggerated, there's nothing unsavory about his mother thrown in, it's just mean.
He doesn't want to be mean to you.
"I don't want to be mean to you."
"But you were."
"I'm sorry. I- I kind of forgot how.. mean that is to say. Really, darling, the last thing I want's to make you cry. 'Really hated that."
"They were just socks." You lament solemnly.
"I know," He can feel himself losing it, wanting to run, but he stands strong, "It was pretty stupid of me. 'S not a problem to pick up my own socks."
"Did you?"
"Yeah," He nods vigorously, "They're in the basket."
"Thanks."
Your voice sounds small. Sleepy, maybe, but small. He doesn't like it, he likes when you're bursting with love, light, life. He'll give you a pass, because it's past midnight and you're bundled in blankets, but he's not sure he'll ever be able to hear it again without remembering tonight.
"I'll be careful about what I say." He promises, tentatively. His hand is flopped over his chest, palm-up. He slides it fowards, arm bending slightly uncomfortably as he extends it to you.
You stare at it for a second too long. He thinks you'll reject him, but before he can slide his hand back, you reach out. You link yours with his, the feeling of your skin on his own renewing the dwindling hope in his chest. He breathes out what feels like a thousand pounds of air, weighing on his chest and yanking at the backs of his eyes so that they stung.
"I'm sorry," He repeats, as you roll into his chest.
"I know," You mumble, tucking your head against his pec, "I'm glad you apologized. I'm not like your friends. You can't be mean to me."
"I won't be," He promises, leaning down to smatter kisses along your hairline, "I won't be, darling, "I love you."
"I love you too," You sigh, content between his arms, and the words explode within his chest to send fireworks burning at his lungs. He wishes he could kiss the living daylights out of you, spin you around on a ballroom floor and dip you and smooch you on the way up. But you're already dozing, so he can't. He settles for one kiss to your lips, soft and slightly painful as he cranes his neck down, but the soft smile that curls over your lips when he pulls away is better than any extravagant scenario he's capable of imagining with you.
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eternalslover · 8 months
Text
Bullet train incorrect quotes:
Ladybug: It's like chess. Sometimes you need to sacrifice your king to win
Maria Beetle: That's exactly how you lose.
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months
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I think a cute one would be the reader finds out shew pregnant and is nervous on how tangerine will react , lemon can tell something is wrong so she explains and he calms her down. She tells tan and ends up being so excited , lots of fluff at the end. He's excited to teach the baby how to use a gun
hii! this is so cute, I love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
expecting
tangerine x fem!reader
wc || 565
sorry I feel like ive been spamming you guys this week😭 ive had tonnes of tan requests, and just trying to get them all done- apologies for flooding your notifications
・₊✧ masterlist + taglist
You and Tangerine have never discussed the possibility of starting a family, so you were uncertain how he would react when you shared the news that you were expecting. Considering your boyfriend's occupation, you weren't sure it would be the best news for him, especially now during the busiest time of the year. 
You weren't sure how you felt about it all just yet. You just wanted to tell someone, get it off your chest— anything. The weight of the news was too heavy to carry by yourself, so you confided in Lemon. You told him you were coming up to the five-week mark and how you were scared to tell Tan. You wanted advice on how to share the announcement, what to say and how to say it— what would be the best way to go about it. 
After your talk with Lemon, you felt much better about the pregnancy, calmer even. You now knew how to approach the situation— how to announce it. Well, an idea, at least. On your way home, you stopped by a supermarket and browsed around the clothes. More specifically, the newborn aisle. You didn't want to get your hopes up, but you couldn't help yourself, so you started small— adding a cream cotton hat and matching socks to your basket before continuing the rest of your shop. You picked up a gift bag and a card after searching for the many snacks you've recently been craving.
Once you get home, you rush up to your shared bedroom to quickly prepare the news before Tan could grow too suspicious. 
"Oi. Why didn't you say hello?" Tangerine chuckles on the other side of the door. "Ignoring me or sommat?"
"No— no, just one minute. I gotta change my clothes. Was so hot out there. Sweated through my clothes," you partially lie. It was hot, but you were also pregnant, so you weren't sure what was hormones and what wasn't. "Just a second," you mumble, holding the pen between your teeth as you add the baby accessories to the bag.
"Disgusting," he jokes, laughing earnestly.
"Alright, ready. Come in," you call out, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the bag in your lap.
"What you doing down there?" he boyishly grins, head cocking to the side.
"Sit," you smile, tapping the floor next to you. You hand the bag over, and at that moment, you feel all the previous fear resurface— all of the anxiety you thought you reassured— it all came back. 
"What's this?" he softly asks as he opens the bag, eyebrows knitting together in focus. "Is— is? Is that—“ he mumbles, his eyes remaining glued to the tiny accessories in the bag. "A—" he stammers, his neck immediately snapping to face you, a stunned expression across his face. "A baby?" he whispers, barely audible. 
You nod slowly, watching his face light up.
"You're pregnant?" he quietly asks, eyes softening as if he couldn't believe the news. "I'm gonna be a dad? I'm gonna be a dad!" he grins wide, his eyes brimming with tears. "Oh my god," he whispers, wrapping you in a tight embrace. "So— sorry, sorry," he chuckles, loosening his grip, cautious of the life growing inside you. "I'm gettin' babies first gun." he jests, cradling your head as he held you, keeping you close and allowing each of you time to remember this moment.
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @slasher-sequels-suck @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy
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Text
Bloodied hands and silent glances Tangerine x reader
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A/N: This is a small drabble based on one of the HCs I wrote. Feel free to check them out ! https://whatiswrongwithpeople.tumblr.com/post/692211445541273600/part-2-of-my-random-hcs-for-being-besties-with
Note: No use of Y/N , reader’s codename is Tabasco !
Hope you enjoy!!🍊🧡
The small restroom on the train didn’t provide much space, but still Tangerine and Tabasco stood beside each other at the sink, silently attempting to wash off the blood which covered their hands. The silence shared between the pair was by no means uncomfortable, it was peaceful and serene. The much-needed calm after a storm, which was somehow speaking more words than each of them ever could. The dimmed lights in the small space only fed into the exhaustion Tabasco was feeling after running from wagon to wagon, fighting various enemies and occasionally having to pull Tangerine off of said enemies. In fact, Tabasco was no longer sure when she and the man standing less than an arm's length away from her had entered into such an intimate relationship. Of course, she could still clearly remember the first time she met Tangerine and his brother. It had only been a few years ago, and without knowing about the brothers' business, she had been on their mission herself, independently completing the mission right in front of their eyes. She wasn't sure if it was because of fatigue and the aftermath of the current mission, but she couldn't for the life of her remember when she had built up such trust with the contract killer. Having rinsed all the blood off his hands, Tangerine glanced over at his partner, noticing how she was so lost in thought that she had stopped moving her hands, the water gushing over her tainted skin. He couldn’t help the soft look, which formed on his features upon noticing how Tabasco’s eyes were almost closed due to exhaustion. Without paying it much thought, he reached over, gently taking her hands into his. Keeping his focus entirely on her hands, he started to gently scrub off the blood, trying his very best to ignore how perfect her hands seemed to fit into his own and how soft her skin felt against his.Tangerine was aware that he had developed a soft-spot for the woman whose hands he was holding. Despite the fact that a few years earlier she had ruined an important and well-paid mission for him and his brother. If you’d ask Lemon, he would say that Tangerine had already put his heart in Tabasco's capable hands right then and there. But that just couldn't be true, Tangerine was sure that he had used absolutely every swear word in the languages familiar to him that night to express how impossible, annoying, unbearable, breathtaking and unbearably hot- Quickly letting that train of thought crash, Tangerine dared to glance into the mirror, letting out a huff when his blues met her form, already watching him. She broke eye contact with the man first, a slight smile on her lips, and slowly pulled her hands out of his touch to turn off the tap. Tabasco was aware that Tangerine would never ask her to do this, but her heart begged her to return his act of service. Taking his larger hand in one of hers, she grabbed a towel and gently dried it off, before doing the same to the other. And before the taller man could withdraw his hands from her grasp, she unfastened the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, gently pulling them down and adjusting his arms so she could attach the cufflinks. Finishing her work under his unwavering gaze and letting her hands run over his chest in order to adjust his vest, she took a step back, already missing the warmth of his body. A quiet but content “There you go.” leaving her lips. For the last time, their eyes locked, saying a thousand things about the emotions they were feeling, but they simply hadn't learned the language necessary to reveal themselves to each other yet. Breaking out of the moment, Tangerine opened the door. “Let’s go, darling, we have a Diesel to kill!”.
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