#tangerine and lemon

[eternalslover]

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Tangerine: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Y/n: Sure!

Y/n: Whats your favorite color?

Tangerine, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you love me?

[lenacosse]

not to be dramatic but this interview saved my life

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x best friend fem!reader

Summary: When your best friend has said, "—in ten years if we're both single, I'll gladly marry you." You didn't think his words had any weight. Turns out, they did.

Genre: Angsty hurt and comfort

Warnings: if canonTangerine can jump onto a moving bullet train, fanon Tangerine can jump from a train as well, violence, guns, swearing, best friends to lovers, Tan and Lem have real names but they aren't mentioned (apart from the first letter ;)).

~ inspired by @little-miss-dilf-lover <3 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

The party is loud and you're not quite sure how your friends have managed to convince you to come, especially on exam week, but here you are—sweaty, slightly drunk, and also starving?

"Oh, look, it's that guy you like!" Your friend, Allie, exclaims as she points through the swarm of students. She's drunker than you, her words horribly slurred.

You look where she's pointing and see the boy who sits behind you in your Biology class. The one that always looks bored and uninterested and still somehow always has a higher score than you do. It would annoy you if he didn't intrigue you so much. 

"His friend is cute," Allie says, seemingly interested in the boy's friend; the slightly taller boy with the lopsided baseball cap and football jersey. You aren't surprised Allie likes him. His smile could light up any room.

"C'mon, I want his number—" she tugs your arm, practically stumbling over with you close behind.

You know the drink you're nursing is kicking in because you're not nearly as nervous as you should be standing in front of this boy now. His chestnut curls fall across his forehead as he looks at you, his blue eyes so sharp you can almost feel them cut through you. His expression doesn't shift. 

"Hi," you say, watching as Allie and his friend fall into easy conversation beside you. Their voices are drowned out by the music but you can see them laughing as Allie touches his arm. You glance up at the boy from your class—you can't seem to remember his name. Tyler? Theo? Thomas? Something with a T—

"Hey," he says, a question in his voice as he tilts his head and studies you. "Do I know you?"

Embarrassment creeps up your cheeks. "Oh, we're in the same class. Bio? With Professor Cooper?"

Recognition passes across the boy's features but he doesn't mention it. He��simply nods, looking away. "Ah," he looks down at you again after a moment, "And what do you want?"

Any sensible person would have fled this conversation immediately, but you're too stubborn and drunk to heed the warnings. You excuse his snappiness because the loud music is annoying you as well. "Do you want to go somewhere quieter?" you ask, chewing your lip. 

You couldn't possibly handle rejection. 

He is silent for a moment, simply staring at you, but he nods and lets you lead him across the party and towards the fire escape. The fresh air feels nice on your skin as you climb, the cool metal from the fire escape pressing against your thighs as you sit on the edge. The boy joins you, sitting in silence for a moment. It isn't awkward, but you assume that's the alcohol. 

You shiver, breathing out into the cold air. 

"Here," he interrupts, handing you his worn-out leather jacket. He doesn't smile, but the gesture is enough to show his kindness and you accept happily, slipping your arms into the velvet of the sleeves. You hum.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he says, cracking his first smile of the night. 

Turns out, he isn't as uninterested in you as he seemed. Conversation flows easier and he's surprisingly funny. The drinks you've had makes your cheeks burn and you're now ranting about your favorite fruits, as the boy, whom you still haven't asked his name, looks at you with round, confused eyes.

"You don't like them?!" you practically screech, leaning forward and the boy's arm stops you from falling over the fire escape but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he's staring at you with his eyebrows scrunched. 

"No? I mean, aren't they just oranges? What's so special about them?"

You gasp, blinking at him as if he'd just said the most outrageous thing and a smirk curls his lips. 

"Tangerine's are so delicious! They're much sweeter in taste than an Orange and in China, they also represent good fortune. They're my favorite out of the citrus family. And doesn't the name sound kinda sophisticated? T-an-ger-ine—" you spell out, turning and locking eyes with him. You're too tipsy to see the faint blush creeping up his cheeks but he clears his throat and looks away.

"I'll have to keep that in mind," he hums, looking out into the night sky with a small smile. A few moments pass until he feels a weight on his shoulder and his lips curl downwards. He tilts his head and when he sees your cheek resting on his shoulder, your chest rising and falling with light snores, he doesn't have the heart to move you. 

You look so peaceful. So beautiful. 

Instead, he pulls you in just a little closer and helps you become comfortable on his shoulder. 

~ Around Ten Year Later ~

The rattling from the train wakes you up, your cheek hitting the glass and then you jolt your head up and you quickly wipe your hand across your mouth to eliminate any proof that you'd been drooling in your sleep. Your cheeks burn hot and you look around. Your eyebrows knit together. The compartment is empty. Weird. How long have you been asleep?

You stand, moving into the alley. You look up at the name of the next station and curse. You missed your fucking stop. You pinch your nose. At this point, you're gonna miss your business meeting and your boss might as well fire you. 

You sit down again, holding your head in your hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—" you groan and you startle when you hear the doors of the compartment slide open. Strong footsteps follow. You look up absentmindedly, your breath catching in your throat when you see someone you haven't seen in years. Instantly, you shoot up, catching the man's attention and he pauses. 

Apart from the blue of his eyes, he looks different. His shoulders are slightly broader and he looks hardened by life. His boyish clean-shaven face is replaced by scars and wounds and a thick mustache that shouldn't work with his features as well as it does. 

You're moving on autopilot as you walk away from your seat and into the aisle, looking him over. You must be mistaken. He's covered in blood. He's wearing a dark blue suit, although half of the suit is missing, and he is staring at you like he's just seen a ghost. 

"T–" His name begins to fall from your mouth but he quickly interrupts you and walks over, gently pushing his hand over your mouth. 

"Tangerine," he whispers, his voice hoarse and the familiarity causes a shiver up your spine.

"What?" you ask behind his hand, your body tense. Is this not—

Suddenly, there is a loud screeching and the train comes to a half. You gasp, falling forwards and onto Tangerine's chest.

He topples backwards, his large hand cupping the back of your head, keeping you still against him, as you fall on top of him. He grunts, his side colliding with the bottom of the seats.

You push on your arms, hovering over him. "Are you alright?" You exclaim, examining him for injuries that weren't already there. 

"Just peachy," he grumbles sarcastically, running a hand in his hair. Tangerine sits up once you've scrambled off his lap and his gaze lands on you. He frowns, standing up and helping you up as well. He lowers his gaze to your left hand, his fingers skimming your ring finger and you hold your breath, looking up at him and then down to his left hand.

No ring, you both think as the memory remains ingrained in both your minds.

It had been your twenty-second birthday, the one where your arsehole of an boyfriend had broken up with you and you'd found yourself in Tangerine's dorm, curled up against him on his bed as you cried into his shoulder. Since the party, you've grown into very close friends. He wasn't cold anymore, he was gentle and kind and utterly hopelessly in love with you—something he didn't want you to know. 

"He's a twat," he spits, stroking your hair. 

"I'll be forever alone, T!" You exclaim, not listening to him as you sit up and stare at him with wide teary eyes. What was said next differs from both your memories, but that proposal, the one he'd made of his own accord, remains clear—

"I'll tell ya what, if in ten years we're both single, I'll gladly marry you."

You'd laughed, unaware of the truth behind his words, and neither of you ever mentioned it again. Although, as the years passed and he distanced himself from you—his words lingered in your mind. You'd been sure he'd forgotten them, but judging by the look on his face now—he must not have. 

You pull your hand away and clear your throat, pulling you both from the memory. You're about to ask why he's here and covered in blood but the sound of gunshots interrupts your plan.

Tangerine pushes you behind him, pulling out his revolver from his suit pants and checking the chamber. He curses and points his gun at the door. You grasp his arm and ask in a whisper. "What's happening? And why do you have a gun T—"

"Tangerine," he growls, anticipating your next word, looking at you through the corner of his eye. 

"Why do you keep insisting I call you that? You hate—"

"I don't know who's around," he interrupts. There is another round of gunshots and you tighten your grip on his arm. "Now back up slowly."

You do as he says, sensing an authority he didn't possess ten years earlier. Once you pass the compartment doors, you feel the wind in your hair and look to the side. "T, why is there a hole in the train?!" You ask, watching as Tangerine jams the door with his gun. "Wait—don't you need that?" You squeak.

Tangerine looks at you, his gaze hard. "Do you trust me?" he asks sternly.

Your eyes widen even more as the train suddenly speeds up and you crash into the opposite wall. 

What the fuck is happening?

Tangerine grips your arm and pulls you upright. "Do you trust me," he asks again, his voice strained.

You falter. "I- I don't know!"

"Well make up your mind, because we don't have much time!"

"What?" You gasp when he grabs your waist and pulls you into him, facing him. He walks closer to the hole and you push against him. "Are you crazy?" you hiss, "back up!"

"No," Tangerine looks directly into your eyes, his gaze hard. "Do you trust me?"

"Stop asking me that!" 

He says your name and you pause. Something you can't decipher hangs in the air as you stare at him and before he can ask again, you nod hastily. "I trust you. Okay. I trust you." 

You almost think you see a hint of a smile but then his hand tightens on your waist as the other pushes your face into the crook of his neck. 

And then he jumps through the hole and from the moving train. 

You feel like you can't breathe. For a moment, you're sure you've fallen onto the tracks and you're dead. Nothing hurts, not really, but your eyes are still screwed shut against Tangerine's shoulder. He smells like smoke and pinewood and you can feel his heartbeat against yours. 

He's breathing.

You use your hand and lift yourself. Tangerine's hand falls to his side as he grunts. You realize you're sitting on him. "Fuck," you say and try shifting off him. He only groans more and steadies your hips. You pause, looking down at him; he's bleeding from his shoulder and his hair is damp with blood.

If he didn't already look like shit, he sure does now. 

"Gentle," he coughs, opening one eye. "M-my ribs."

Your blood runs cold and you jump up, not listening to him. Tangerine groans. You look around. The platform is empty and the train has passed. You look at Tangerine and your voice comes out shaky when you say, "You jumped from a moving train! What the fuck is wrong with you?" You kneel down, assessing his injuries. He's hurt but he's still aware and breathing. You press a hand to his side and he hisses. 

"Who the fuck are ya?" A familiar voice rings out and you hear the cocking of a gun. The metal presses against your head and you freeze. Slowly, you turn around and see his brother. 

His name falls from your lips as he does the same with yours and his arm lowers.

"Lemon," Tangerine groans, managing to sit up. He coughs, blood dripping out of his mouth. 

You turn around. "Lemon?" you narrow your gaze and point, "and Tangerine."

Lemon nods, putting his gun away as he kneels beside you. "Code names, so shh," he presses his index to his lips and grins. He turns his attention to Tangerine and cocks his head. "Now what happened to leaving the train normally, and where's the boy?" 

You sit back on your heels, listening to them. 

"They found me. Had a shit ton of guns and shit. And, my landing would have been much easier if I didn't have to cushion her fall," he looks at you but there is no real bite behind his words.

Your cheeks feel warm. "I didn't ask you to do that!" 

"Would ya rather I left ya defenseless on a doomed train?"

Your head is spinning. You fell asleep for what? At most 30 minutes and all went to shit? 

"T, she's clearly shaken up. Be nice."

"I am nice. I saved 'er life." 

Lemon rolls his eyes and assesses his brother's injuries. You watch them, seeing how different and grown-up they look now. Still, they bicker in the same way as they did in Uni and you can't help but smile.

"Next time, we do this together, easy job or not, Lemon says as he helps Tangerine up. The latter leans against him for support and grumbles something in return. He doesn't look very pleased. You stand as well and call after them. 

"Wait," you say and run up to them, "Can I come with you?"

Lemon pauses and looks over his shoulder. "It isn't safe for ya, sweetcheeks. 'Tis best if ya just hurry home now." You hear Tangerine whisper something that sounds like, "don't let her come," and your chest tightens. Still, you don't simply take the no. 

"He needs a doctor," you argue. 

"He's fine."

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You both know I studied medicine in school. Please. If you won't take him to the hospital could you please let me look him over?" you plead, holding onto Lemon's sleeve. He pauses and looks down at his brother. Tangerine looks pale and more blood drips from his lips. You whisper Lemon's real name and he sighs. 

Soon, you find yourself in a luxury hotel room, kneeling on the floor of the bathroom as you wipe Tangerine's wounds clean. He's leaning against the bathtub, his shirt abandoned on the tile as you apply some antiseptic to the wound on his temple.

He shifts and you shake your head, pushing on his shoulder to steady him. "Stay still," you command and press on the bandages gently, making sure the ice packs stay in place. Tangerine's sharp blue eyes are glued to you. He looks serious and stoic. However, there is also a glossy shield over them from the pain meds you'd given him. It would have been torture to leave him in the state he was in. And after all, it was your fault he'd gotten badly hurt. 

"Why didn't you become a doctor? That's your dream, innit?" he blurts out suddenly, his words slurred. 

You shake your head, smoothing a hand over the bandage. "It was. I guess I wasn't cut out for it—medical school kicked my arse." 

"Bollocks," Tangerine says, narrowing his gaze as he lifts himself up to position himself better against the tub. "Ya were the best in your year at Uni. Everyone knew that. What happened?"

Your heart sinks as you press like cloth against another cut on his cheek. Biting the inside of your cheek, you whisper, "Drop it? Please." How can you tell him you'd just given up when things got hard? How could you tell him when he was your biggest supporter? How could you tell him all that without blaming him for leaving you?

Ten years with no contact. Not one response to your texts or calls. You'd gotten the message quickly enough. 

You push back some of his curls, watching as his head falls back and his gaze remains on you. "I didn't think I would ever see you again," you say, changing the topic of discussion. Tangerine doesn't say anything for a moment until he sniffs. 

"I've seen you," he starts and tilts his head. His voice becomes softer. "In my dreams."

You hold your breath, leaning back against your heels. "T—Tangerine," you whisper.

"You can say my name now," Tangerine exclaims, looking at you almost guiltily. "There is no one that could hurt us. Please, say my name."

You hold your breath before whispering his name. When you do, he shuts his eyes and makes a small sound. You frown, confused why you saying his name would cause this big of a reaction. You feel him reach over, holding your hand and your heart speeds up.

"You aren't married," he breathes out. 

Your gaze snaps to him. 

"Neither am I—" he adds, his thumb stroking over your skin. 

"T—that was years ago—"

"And yet, you remember. You know exactly what I'm referring to because you remember."

There is truth in his words. Had you gone that long without thinking of him or that stupid proposal?

No.

You'd dated and did all you could to pretend that he hadn't said that and to pretend that he wouldn't show up out of the blue and marry you like he'd said. 

And yet here he is, reminding you of his words. 

"I never looked for someone. Not when I knew you were out there somewhere. It's always been you," he admits, his eyes still glossy and he's still breathing heavily like he's in pain. You want to believe him, you do, but realistically you know that it's the pain medication. He isn't thinking properly. 

"That's sweet, T," you say and squeeze his hand. "Really sweet."

He frowns. "It's not supposed to be sweet. It's the truth. I love you."

You stand up, your mind is fuzzy. "Okay–I'm gonna call in your brother. He can take care of you from here—"

"Wait, l-love, it's the truth. I love you. I always have, please don't leave," he pleads but he's in too much pain to walk after you. All he can do is sit there as you slip from his grasp once more. 

Outside, you run into Lemon as he walks over with two warm teas. "What's wrong?" he asks, frowning as he sees the look on your face. You shake your head, not bothering with a response, as you walk to the entrance to find your coat. Coming here was a mistake. This entire ordeal was a simple mistake. A trick of fate.

"Oi, wait." You hear just as you open the front door. You look over your shoulder and an envelope hangs in front of you. You look up, catching Lemon's intense stare, and you only receive a nod. Once outside, the cold air stings your skin as you walk away from the hotel. The city is busy and the lights shine bright over the darkness of the night. You squint, wasting no time in opening and reading the letter—

Y/n,  I know you will not understand why I need to leave. Or why I won’t respond to your calls or your texts. I can’t make you understand either. Not yet, not until I’ve figured things out for myself. It’s too dangerous for us now. I would rather never see you again than put you in harm's way.  I’m not even sure if I will ever send this to you. I don’t think I deserve it. Not after what I must do. But still I must tell you.  Do you remember what I told you? How I would marry you. You laughed and I know you did not believe me. I’m not sure if I will ever see you again anyways, not anymore, but if by luck it’s ten years later and I see you. Just know I’ll marry you in a heartbeat.  Because I love you.  I love you so much.  Yours forever,  T

Your hands tighten around the paper. You think back to the train—the gunshots—the codenames—the codename of your favorite fruit—the mention of a job—and nothing makes sense but the apparent danger you'd been in and one that the brothers' seemed familiar with. 

He left you to protect you.

Tears sting at the corner of your eyes as you press the letter to your chest. You've stopped walking. 

He loves you. 

And you don't want to accept that you love him just the same. 

But you can't help yourself as you run back to his apartment, his real name falling from your lips as your tears roll down your cheeks. 

[msmk11]

Heyyy, I just saw that you were taking requests for Tangerine x Readers, and I was wondering if you could write something like Tangerine and reader being fwb before the whole bullet train thingy, and she catches feelings but he's super distant (bro has serious attachment issues) so he pushes her away and is a bitchy manchild about it (LOTS AND LOTS OF ANGST but it has a fluffy ending) (smutty too if ur comfortable with it) ofc u can ignore this request if u don't want to, and I'd write it myself but I have zero motivation rn and I js wanna cry and then giggle😭🫶

And I Have To Live With It, For the Rest of My Life

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: HEAVY ANGST; slut shaming; booze/being drunk; fighting; cursing; lack of aftercare; mentions of sex; Tangerine is a HUGE asshole. Tiny fluff ending.

A/n: Hi love! Thanks for requesting! Sorry this took so long I just needed to find inspo. I’m also sorry for the lack of smut (and fluff tbh,) I just don’t take smut requests. As for fluff, I did want a “happy ending” but it felt cheap to try and go from ANGST to “everything is perfect again” in such few words. Maybe I’m just traumatized, but I have a hard time forgiving quickly lol and I think that shows here.

Everything was really, really good.

So of course you had to go and ruin it.

People say you can’t control matters of the heart and you think that it’s a load of bullcrap. Why not? Why couldn’t you have control over your heart?

And why did you have to catch feelings for Tangerine?

It isn’t part of the deal. Tangerine is a business partner. An acquaintance. A friend. A friend you occasionally fuck.

Your relationship with Tangerine was always supposed to be casual. No strings attached- business was simply business and fucking simply fucking. But then your heart got involved.

What’s one supposed to do?

Certainly not keep going back to the captor of one’s heart.

So of course that’s exactly what you do.

You’re laying in your hotel bed, completely naked, covers pooled around your waist. You and Tangerine just finished having sex and he’s already up and moving about, throwing on his clothes that had been discarded on the floor somewhere in your flurry of lust. Instead of saying anything, you just watch him in all his glory. You admire his tousled post-sex hair, curls askew, the way his back muscles ripple as he bends down to sweep his shirt up off the ground, and the way his fingers deftly button up his shirt.

“Got a meeting to head off to?” You ask casually.

Translation: Please don’t run off so soon if you don’t have to. Stay.

Tangerine’s eyes flit to yours briefly before he bends down to tie his shoes, “something like that.”

“Mhmm.”

You pull the covers up to your neck, suddenly feeling very vulnerable so bare and exposed to Tangerine who’s nearly fully dressed.

“You got a comb?” the brunette asks you gruffly as he straightens his suit jacket.

You nod towards the bathroom, “yeah, in there.”

He gives you no reply, only walking into the bathroom and shutting the door with a resounding thud.

Your stomach clenches painfully and your heart aches. The indifference with which Tangerine treats you hurts so badly. You’d rather him hate you then act like this. At least you’d know that he felt something, anything.

Is it too early for a drink?

The bathroom door opens again and Tangerine walks out, looking as though nothing ever happened. To him, nothing probably has. Nothing of consequence, at least.

“Well, I’m heading out. See you for our debrief tonight at nine.”

Tangerine begins to walk towards the door.

“Wait!” you call out.

You stop him just in time, his hand frozen on the handle. You swear he visibly tenses at your words, “what?”

“Could- could you at least get me a towel? Please?”

He doesn’t even look at you before nodding, “Yeah.”

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before reappearing with a towel in hand. Tangerine, it seems, doesn’t even have the decency to walk the towel over to you. Instead, he tosses it across the room, almost hitting you in the face.

“Thanks.”

Shame pools in your stomach and you keep your gaze on the towel in your hands.

Tangerine grumbles a reply and then makes for the door so quickly that there’s no chance for you to say anything more.

Your heart sinks at the possibility that Tangerine might know you have feelings for him.

*****

You’ve already found a secluded spot in the hotel lounge and have a drink in hand when the twins appear downstairs. They take a seat across from you wordlessly and Tangerine lifts his hand in the air gracefully, motioning for a cocktail waitress to come take his order. Lemon and him order their drinks, and you ask for a second. It bothers you severely when you catch Tangerine winking at the waitress out of the corner of your eye.

You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and ignore how it burns your throat.

“Right, so the job’s done. When are we getting out of here?” Lemon asks tiredly.

“We,” Tangerine says, pointing between him and his brother, “are out of here first thing in the morning, “I’ve booked our tickets for a 5 am flight.”

“And her?” Lemon responds, pointing to you.

Tangerine barely glances at you, but you can see his jaw tense, “the job’s done. Figured she’s a fucking big girl who can handle getting herself home. Isn’t that right, love?”

Condescension drips from Tangerine’s words and it makes your stomach drop. You refrain from saying what you really want to and instead assume a relaxed persona, “mhmm, always right you are. I arranged for my travel last night.”

You, luckily, weren’t lying, though you had ordered a car big enough for three. More room for you, you guess.

The waitress comes back with your drinks and you eagerly take yours. When she asks if you need anything else, you can tell that she’s really only talking to Tangerine. Still, you tell her yes, asking for a third drink.

Lemon eyes you, “you haven’t even touched your second drink and now you’re ordering a third?”

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and lean back in your chair, “I’ve got the money to spend on it now that we each just made what, nearly 12,000 pounds?”

Lemon smirks in celebration and holds out his drink to you, “cheers.”

You clink glasses but Tangerine doesn’t join in, a perpetual frown gracing his face.

“Ya really wanna get fucking sloshed before ya travel tomorrow?” the brunette suddenly chimes in- rather judgmentally, you might add.

“Who said anything about sloshed, Tangerine? I can hold more than you think.”

While your answer is confident, even combative, on the inside, your heart leaps into your throat and pounds desperately. You think you might explode.

“Still, ya certainly don’t have any self-control. Not over ya drinks, your mouth, and most importantly….” Tangerine’s eyes narrow at you, “not over ya emotions.”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

So Tangerine did know about your feelings. Worse? He’s being a right fucking prick about it too. There’s no emotional sensitivity, no respect for privacy, nothing. Serves you right for fucking a cold-blooded assassin.

Unfortunately for you, tears spring to your eyes despite the fury boiling in your stomach, “you wanna talk about control, Tangerine? Let’s talk about how you have so little control over your own feelings that you lash out at others and make them feel like shit, even your own brother, so that you feel better. Let’s talk about how you can’t keep your dick in your pants because you’d rather fuck anything that looks at you than deal with anything real. Let’s talk about how what’s happened between us has made you feel so out of control that you’re willing to go low enough to hash this out in fucking public. You’re a walking disaster, Tangerine, and I feel right fucking sorry for you, I really do.”

You stand up harshly and purposely knock his drink onto his expensive suit. You start to walk away and then turn back, batting your eyelashes innocently, “oh wait, should I get you a fucking towel to clean up? Or would you rather beg me for it?”

You don’t wait for a response and grab a dry towel off a random cleaning rack, throwing it right in his fucking face.

*****

Tangerine glares after you as you storm off.

“What the bloody fuck was that all about?” Lemon protests.

Tangerine ignores Lemon and instead curses loudly before chasing after you. He could not let you have the last fucking word. He catches you right in time, hand stopping the doors of the elevator you’re in.

You look up at him startled, and your shocked expression is quickly replaced with an angry one.

“What the fuck, Tangerine? Get out of here!”

“Ya don’t get to fucking talk to me like that and spill my drink all over me and then just walk away.”

“Why not,” you scoff, “you ran away as soon as you were done using me to jack off. It only seems fair.”

The elevator doors slide shut and the car begins to move upwards slowly.

“Yeah, well that’s usually what happens when ya casually fuck someone. But I don’t think ya have a casual bone in your body- always stomping around being a dramatic attention-whore.”

Tangerine watches your eyes narrow and jaw harden, “there’s a difference between being causal and being a huge dick, Tangerine. I should’ve known you’d be the latter.”

“And I should’ve known not to mess around with a fucking slut like you.”

Your eyes widen in shock and even Tangerine knows that he’s taken things a little too far. While your effort to fight back your tears is valiant, it’s fruitless, and they begin to stream down your face.

“Fuck you, Tangerine. You know, I never expected you to return my feelings, and I’m sorry I crossed a line by falling for you. Swear to fucking god I wish I didn’t. But you- you’ve just crossed an unforgivable line, and I never want to see you again. Have a fucking nice life.”

The elevator doors slide open and you scurry out. This time, Tangerine doesn’t follow you.

*****

After everything that happened with Tangerine on your last mission, you decided to take an indefinite hiatus from work and just focus on yourself.

One of your goals? Fuck your feelings for Tangerine out of you. So of course, you’d been spending a lot of nights out at the bars, seducing all the eligible bachelors of the city into your bed.

You hope that it’s working.

Tonight is no different from the rest- you dressed up in one of your sexy outfits sitting at the bar of some new local pub. You’ve already eyed a muscular blonde about your age from across the bar and motion for him to come over.

He complies and makes his way to you, a cocky smirk on his face.

“Hey gorgeous,” you tease, looking him up and down.

The man takes a seat next to you, “Hullo, love. What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting at the bar all by herself?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “looking for a handsome man. Like you, I suppose.”

He cocks his eyebrow at you, “you suppose?”

“Always hard to tell in this type of lighting.”

The blonde bites his lip and eyes you, “I can promise you I’m handsome.”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m Matt,” he says, extending his hand.

You respond with your name and grasp his hand. You’re expecting a handshake, but instead he brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them softly.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Damn this man is smooth.

“Really, the pleasure is all mine, Matt,” you respond, trying not to appear too flustered.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure. Surprise me though.”

Matt orders the two of you drinks and you take the time to ogle him. He’s perfect.

But not as per-

Nope.

No, you don’t have time to think about him.

Matt hands you the mysterious concoction and you eye him, “what is it?”

“Just drink,” he nods, “promise it’s good.”

You take a small sip and it’s sweet. It’s yummy, and you take another, larger sip.

“Oh shit, this is good.”

“Told you.”

“Can I know what it is now?”

“No way. Need to hold this above you so you keep coming back to me to ask for another.”

You chuckle and look down, “okay Mr. Smooth-Talker. That was pretty good.”

“I can do a lot more than that,” he says seductively. His hand slides out casually and finds a home on your thigh.

You inhale sharply in pleasant surprise and lean towards him, “oh really?”

Matt leans in towards you too, “yeah, like-“

Just as you’re about to kiss him you hear a loud shout.

“Hey, get your hands off her!”

You startle at the sound and turn to see who could possibly be yelling like a maniac inside this bar. You’re also curious to know who’s the one getting yelled at.

Your stomach drops when you realize that you’re the target. And the yeller?

Tangerine.

“Oh my fucking God,” you curse, resting your forehead in your hands.

Tangerine comes stalking towards you.

“Uh, who the fuck is that?” Matt asks warily.

“My ex….fuck-buddy? Friend-with-benefits? I don’t know, it was complicated. But a piece of shit- that’s what he is.”

“What the fuck are you doing, mate?” Tangerine yells at Matt when he approaches you two. His words slur together and you can tell he’s really, really drunk.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Matt says gruffly.

“I’m not the one getting handsy with someone else’s girl,” the brunette snarls.

You scoff loudly, “Your girl? That’s rich Tangerine. Last I recall I was just a slut you fucked.”

Tangerine’s expression softens just the slightest and you almost think you clock regret in his eyes.

“Look, mate, you’re drunk. So get your ass out of here before I hand it to you,” Matt threatens.

Tangerine is sent back into his rage and steps toward Matt menacingly, “you little fucking,”

“Okay,” you shout, stepping in between them and putting a hand on each of their chests, “that’s enough.”

“Tangerine, go. home,” you growl.

“Yeah fucking right I-“

“Just let me take him,” Matt interrupts.

You scan his tense body, “Look, I appreciate it, but you’re not gonna win. Tangerine here is, well, trained. And I don’t want anything to happen to your pretty face. I’ll take care of him.”

“But he’s definitely stronger than you,” Matt protests.

You side eye Tangerine, “he won’t hurt me.”

The blonde’s eyes narrow.

“Physically, at least.”

Matt finally sighs and steps back, “I’ll be waiting here for you.”

You send him a half smile and then turn to the brunette with a glare, “Let’s. Go.”

Then, you literally grab him by the ear and drag him outside the bar. Tangerine lets out a string of curses and tries to fight back a little before he finally gives up.

When you get outside you let go of his ear and shove him, “What the fuck was that, Tangerine?”

“I was trying to protect you from that git,” he slurs.

“Tangerine, you’re the git. You’re the one that hurt me. It’s you I need protection from.”

Tangerine’s tough guy facade crumbles right before your eyes into one of remorse. He suddenly looks years beyond his age and crumples down onto the sidewalk, back pressed to the wall.

You look down at him with disgust. His hair is all over the place, his clothes are a complete mess, and he reeks of booze.

“I’m calling Lemon.”

With shaky hands you dial his number.

He picks up rather quickly and you can hear the confusion in his voice when he answers, “uh, hello?”

“Lemon, come get your fucking brother.”

*****

Although Matt was everything you could’ve hoped for, your night was ruined after Tangerine left. Luckily, Matt was understanding, and you’d exchanged numbers to meet up another day.

When you’d gotten home from the bar, you’d broken down completely. All of the anger, betrayal, frustration and sadness that had been pent up within you for weeks burst forth like a raging storm. You’d sobbed and screamed and even pitched a picture frame of you, Tangerine, and Lemon across the room, shattering it. The broken glass was a problem for later-you, and you’d ended up falling asleep on your couch, still in your bar clothes.

Loud bangs are what startle you awake hours later, and you curse as you flail off the couch. You hit the floor with a thud and groan. Now, not only is your head pounding, but your back will be all beat up too.

The pounding on your door continues and you curse whoever is making a ruckus this early.

You yank the door open, “what the fuck do you want?”

The last person you expect to see is on the other side.

Tangerine.

“Fuck off,” you spit before swinging the door shut resoundly.

Except the door doesn’t close because Tangerine’s foot catches it.

“Fuck me,” he groans in pain.

The brunette shoves the door back open and you smirk, “that’s what you get for being in places you don’t belong. Now get the hell out of my apartment.”

“Wait, wait. Please, just give me a chance to talk to ya. And then, if ya want, you never have to fucking see my face again.”

You don’t reward him with a response and instead just walk away, sighing.

Tangerine takes this as an invitation and walks inside your apartment, letting the door shut gently behind him. You beeline straight to where you left off on the couch, paying him no mind.

The idiot must not be paying attention because you hear the crackle of glass beneath his shoes and a quiet curse.

Tangerine goes silent and you stiffen, listening closely. You hear the pings of shattered glass being sifted through and then his footsteps as he nears your spot on the couch.

“I forgot about this picture,” he rasps.

“Well you can fucking have it. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Can I- can I sit?”

You briefly glance over at Tangerine and look him up and down. You don’t respond, only nodding.

Though he, like you, is still in his clothes from last night, he looks ten times worse. The purple bags under his eyes are heavy and dark, his hair and mustache aren’t groomed, his button up is missing a few buttons, and his shoes are untied. Maybe it’s bad to say, but you revel in how miserable and pathetic he looks.

“You look fucking awful,” you remark, venom heavy in your tone.

“And ya look like you’ve been crying.”

“Well no shit, Tangerine. Sort of happens when someone you thought was your friend turns out to be a big fucking prick. “

He looks down at his feet and shuffles awkwardly, “I know. I’ve uh, that’s why I came here to talk to ya. To apologize.”

You scoff and look at him with disbelief, “okay now you want to apologize? Only when you’ve fucking hit rock bottom you wanna mend things?”

“Love, no I, I’ve been wanting to since that night in the fucking elevator I-“

“Don’t call me that,” you whisper angrily, lip wobbling in spite of yourself.

“I’m not your love, I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything anymore. We’re done Tangerine, this is over.”

It’s then that the boy you’ve known for almost five years does something you never would have imagined.

He grovels.

He literally gets on his knees before you and grabs your hands tightly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Just listen to me for a second. Please. I want ya to know how fucking sorry I am. Not just for last night, but for everything. I’m sorry I called ya a slut. I’m sorry I was rude, and distant, and an asshole. I’m sorry for fucking you like some piece of meat and then just leaving you behind with no aftercare, no attention, nothing. I’m sorry for being a terrible friend and I’m sorry for not telling you that I love you sooner.”

Tears shine in Tangerine’s blue eyes and he chokes on his next words, “Christ, I love ya so fucking much. And I know I’ve gone and fucked things up now, and that it’s too late. And I have to accept every day for the rest of my life that it’s my fault. I have to live with that. And I will, even though it could kill me. But I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t tell ya at least once.”

Tangerine’s forehead falls to your knees and his body begins to shake in quiet sobs.

He inhales sharply through his nose, trying to hold back more tears, and looks up at you so sadly. “You’re the best girl out there, and you deserve the best. You deserve to find that with someone. Someone who isn’t me.”

Tears of your own begin to drip from your face and your heart throbs in your chest.

You reach out and cup Tangerine’s jaw so gently it’s as if he could crumble under your fingertips at any second.

“Tangerine,” you whisper.

You search his eyes for any sign of insincerity, of some sign that he’s going to break your heart again. But all you see is true, genuine adoration and vulnerability. Consciously or not, your heart returns to the hands of the one who holds and you pull him in, kissing him softly.

The kiss is sloppy, and salty and wet, but you don’t care, because every peck and sigh and bite is punctuated by what you both know- I love you. I love you. I love you.

[daenysx]

tangerine and misunderstanding trope 🥺? i love how you write him!

-send me drabble requests!

tangerine x fem!reader

It hurts more than you think it would. The messages he didn't reply, the missed calls, the invitations to your apartment he didn't even respond to.

Maybe you were fooling yourself.

You don't let yourself fall into self pity, though. Tangerine is not your boyfriend. He's not, right? Because to be your boyfriend, he should've done something about it. Instead he's been ghosting your efforts to reach out.

You think being hurt over a man who's not your boyfriend is a terrible thing. For many reasons.

He is your something, though. You really like him. You like his deep blue eyes, his kind smile, his stupid jokes, and his frown. You like how soft he seems to be next to you, how his lips curl upwards when he talks about Lemon, how his hands always find yours under any table. You don't want to let this go. You just wish him to try a little, at least.

And, you know what? Fuck him, if he doesn't. Maybe he's not the man you met, maybe he's changed. Maybe he doesn't have enough courage to come and say he doesn't want anything to do with you. Maybe he's just a coward who doesn't know how to end something that didn't even start.

You wish you could stop liking this coward so much.

The day goes on just like any others. You come home earlier, luckily taking the emptier bus and buying some much needed groceries. You settle down on your evening routine easily, a nice shower and dinner afterwards, picking up something to watch as you mindlessly scroll on your phone. The couch is comfy under your body as you get a book in your hand, minutes slipping quickly, you think you can fall asleep here tonight.

Someone knocks on the door.

You flinch, sleep leaving your body immediately. No one called you before coming over, who's at the door? You walk slowly, trying to get a glimpse of the person outside with your hand on your heart.

It's him.

Is it too late to pretend to be asleep? No, you're not running away from this. You're having this conversation, what is he doing here anyway? He doesn't even have the decency to let you know before he comes over. You open the door with a rush of anger in your chest.

"Hey, darlin'," Tangerine says. Is that blood on his hands? "Sorry, were you sleeping?"

You shake your head, trying to get your mind work properly. "You didn't call."

He looks sorry. He should look sorry, actually. You didn't deserve any of it.

"Can I come in?" he asks. You let him take a few steps inside. He follows you to the living room, leaving his suit jacket on the side of the couch with practiced movements. It suddenly hurts how he looks like he belongs here. How he acts like it.

"Where have you been?" you ask without thinking. "You didn't answer my calls for days."

You don't care if you sound pathetic. He really worried you.

"I apologise," he begins. "I- I lost my phone on a business meeting and couldn't get a new one, I still don't have one actually, didn't have time to-"

This sounds like a shitty excuse and you talk before you can stop yourself.

"You know what- don't explain. I mean you don't have to. I'm not your girlfriend, so it's none of my business. I was just thinking you'd at least say something real. Something that sounds like a proper excuse."

"Wha- What do you mean you're not my girlfriend?" Tangerine asks. He looks genuinely confused.

You part your lips, then close them. He does surprising things tonight.

"I mean, we never made that clear, did we?" you say, slowly. "And to be honest, it's worse if you think I'm your girlfriend and still ghosted my texts for days."

"I didn't- Look, I'm sorry if this sounds like a fucked up explanation, but I'm telling the truth. I-" he takes a deep breath. "I never properly told you what I do for work, and it was wrong of me, but I was afraid that if you know- you'd never want to see me again."

You know bits and pieces about his job, you think you don't care about it now, though. You can get over it probably, but being hurt by him and feeling like he ignored you all this time is harder to accept.

"I really did think we were in a relationship," he says. His eyes are- oh, fuck him. They look so beautiful under this light, all wide and somehow innocent, he's telling the truth. "I promise, I didn't ghost your calls. I tried to do better, but I- I'm really sorry."

You take his hand. He looks at you like he's lost in all the emotions. Tangerine is not used to this, to have someone other than Lemon who worries about him and he clearly doesn't know how to make his thoughts on relationships clear. You know things don't work well over assumptions, but it doesn't look hard to fix them. You really like him. Like him enough to forgive him when he's telling the truth and rub your thumb on the back of his hand.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" you ask, bravely. Things are gonna be okay, you believe.

"Of course," he replies. It's a risk, but he's made for worse of them. "More than anything."

"Okay," you say, nodding with a nice smile on your face. "But if we're gonna start this properly, we need to communicate. I don't wanna lose my mind over doubting if you like me enough to reply my texts."

He holds you, unable to stop himself from kissing your forehead. An untold apology lingers in the air. You like having Tangerine in your space.

"I like you more than enough," he says. "I know I don't deserve it, but I'm a lucky bastard that you even care to give me a chance. I'll try to be better, yeah? Really, I'll do better."

You kiss him, it's a good one for your first kiss as lovers. You squeeze his hand in yours, he kisses you back with a rush of big emotions. He's gonna carry them well, though. He has to, otherwise he'd never forgive himself.

"You can tell me all about your job when you get cleaned up in the bathroom," you tell him. "Maybe I'm being an idiot for starting a relationship with a guy when I barely know what he does for work, but I'm gonna take that risk."

Tangerine likes risks. He likes the idea of someone taking risks for him, it's a delicious feeling on his chest. He promises to be honest. Anything comes after, is a risk for him to take.

He lets you take him to the bathroom.

[padsmoony04]

[novakiart]

the bullet train 2 that exists in my head

[meduzza13]

Giving everyone a portion of Tangerine, cause everyone needs vitamin C Art Masterlist

[princesssunderworld]

I wonder why they are Lemon and Tangerine. 🍋🍊

And not Lemon and Lime 🍋‍🟩?

There has to be a reason right?

[lc-mrbrownstone]

TANGERINE fanart!

[tangerinesmommy]

''Do whatever you want love, I'm Yours'' (3.2K Words Story)

A Submissive Tangerine × Fem!Reader Fic

⚠️ WARNING/KINKS: NSFW, SMUT, SEX, CUNNINLINGUS, MAN EATING PUSSY, HEAVY USE OF TERMS OF ENDEARMENTS, FEMDOM, ORAL, F(receiving oral), M(giving oral), descriptions of eating pussy, submissive man, dominant woman, mommydom, good boy, comfort, falling in love

Edit: this can be read as a standalone story but technically is part 2 of THIS

----------------------------------------------------------

‘I think, I might fall in love with you.’

The words Tangerine said, were still lingering in your mind. 

He was wrapped up in your arms when you woke up feeling content, with a big grin across your face. 

What a silly fucking man he is. He really said he fell in love with you after the night you two spend together. It was true- the sex was far from imperfections and you two just sorta clicked. Humour wise, personality wise. It also helped that you were awestruck by his looks. His cold blue eyes were endless. His warm orange mustache- so fucking irresistible. 

…for some reason what he said didn’t feel all too silly, did it?

His curly hair was a mess and you noticed some of the hickeys that you left last night. It seemed like he was full of them, but you couldn’t fully see from the blanket covering him.

Moreover, there was such a peaceful expression plastered on his face. All snuggled into you, using you as his body pillow.

It felt strangely comforting having this stranger over.

Just that he didn’t feel like a stranger to you right now. It’s been a while since you felt this adoration and desire for someone. Even more so, for someone you didn’t even know. You don’t even know this ‘Tangerine’ fella. You probably don’t even know his real name. Still here he is. Laying in your bed, wrapped up in your arms- with his head practically resting on your soft breasts. And the world couldn’t feel more at peace. 

He looked at peace, you felt at peace. 

A cute little smile on his face as he was sleeping, soft snores coming out of him, peacefully breathing onto your skin, calming you down. The fuzzy feeling of inner peace and love filling your soul. A wave of protectiveness washing over you.

You wanted to keep him safe. Safe from the world, safe in your arms- safe with you.

And you wanted to listen to his stupid little snores for however long he’d let you. 

You haven’t fallen in love, nor have you felt like falling in love- in FUCKING ages now. 

Your own life was too busy. Work too stressful. There was always- always too much going on to find time to meet somebody. To make somebody part of your daily routine, to share, live and grow with somebody. And yet here he was.

Some gorgeous orange haired man, some stranger named after a fruit, marked up with hickeys from the night you spent with him- laying in your arms and sleeping peacefully. 

A slutty orange haired man and some woman obsessed with making him, hers. What an odd love story. 

‘Mhh… morning, love’ you let go of him as he clears his throat, yawns and stretches. The way- the provocative fucking way his mustache moved with his lips as he spoke turned you so unbelievably on. 

‘Morning, Tangerine’ you respond with a smile and he smiles back at you before turning to his side and snuggling up against you, again. He let out a chuckle and your heart fluttered. Whens the last time you fell in love? Is this what it felt like? 

You held him close to you and caressed his back in a soothing manner. He let out small grunts and sighs and you chuckled with him. 

‘You weren’t that ticklish yesterday.’

‘And excuse ya love, I’m not. I’m just feeling…’ and there it was again. He raised his head, looked up to you. His blue eyes locking with yours and you hoping he meant what he said. That last night was more than just some hook-up. That last night was as meaningful to him as, you realised it has been to you. That this all wasn’t just in your head. More than wishful thinking, more than just a little crush. You two held eye contact for a mere couple of seconds, both of you smiling and anticipating his words. And the world stood still as he spoke softly ‘…enamoured.’ 

He was good at making impressions, wasn’t he just?

‘What you said yesterday about falling in love with me. Was that something you really meant or was it just something you said in the moment?’

‘Oh wow, you don’t ever hold back, do ya?’ He laughed and supported himself on his arms, looking around the room. Which finally gave you a chance to get a good look on the hickeys you left.

Seemed like you really don’t hold back when it comes to him. 

He cleared his throat, his hand raising to move his hair back and feel up his mustache as he answers. ‘Well Darling, you asked me bluntly. I think you can take a blunt answer then. I haven’t known ya for very long, but it’s been years since I've felt this spark in me… enlighten. It’s been years since the last time that I’ve felt hopeful about getting to know somebody. In my line of work, in my life so far I haven’t been able to trust… nor rely on a lot of people but-’ he looked to you and you couldn’t help and realise how very well spoken he was when not begging for you to treat him roughly. 

‘… something about you feels different and I can’t say that I haven’t been a bit of a hopeless romantic all my life, but you feel like what I’d imagine love at first sight to feel like.’ 

There was a moment of silence as you let his words and the realisation of what he said sink in. In the meantime, Tangerine reached out his hand to take yours, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly.

‘What about you then? Any reciprocating feelings or am I getting ahead of myself now?’

‘I like you too.’

‘Ah, are we back to high school now? Ya want me to write one of those little YES/NO/MAYBE letters to you now luv?’

He joked. You laughed. Still holding on to your hand, kissing it, anticipating your words with his eyes locked onto yours. 

‘Well, pretty boy, something about you does feel… special. Something about you feels right. Like, I look at your face and I want nothing else but to spend the rest of my life with that sexy mustache on my side. You know? Kissing me, eating me out.’ 

Love- and perhaps also Lust confessions come so easy when staring into eyes, that are as endless as any ocean you’ve ever seen. Waves of love coming over you the longer you stare.

‘Okay well, I have more to offer than just my mustache though.’ He whispers against your hand, chuckling as he plants another kiss on it, still holding on to you. It’s clear you’re both eye-fucking eachother when he starts kissing your wrists. 

Instantly you grabbed his chin, pulling him towards you and kissing him ferociously. Sticking your tongue deep inside his mouth, feeling it up. Placing your hands on the back of his head and on the side of his face, pulling him closer.

He didn’t resist, not that he wanted to anyways. He let you lick, kiss and feel up his mouth however hard you wanted to. Pulling him closer and closer, a bit of drool dripping out from how hard you went. He didn’t do much with his tongue, just moaned into you. Wait. He didn’t do much with his tongue?

You pulled out with a bit of a puzzled look and a small whiny pout.

‘Why aren’t you doing anything, darling? You okay?’

He smiled teasingly. What a bastard. ‘Just saving my tongue for something else.’

You understood. And god you wanted nothing more.

‘Oh? Is that so? Somebody’s eager to please.’

‘Of course I am. I’m your good boy, remember?’

Marry me- 

is what you wanted to say, but it was a bit early for that, wasn’t it?

So many thoughts filled your head, your heart started racing, but before you could say anything Tangerine started kissing your chin. 

As soft as anyone has ever kissed it before, you barely could feel it. His lips touched you softly, his perfect mustache brushing against you, it tickled and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He nipped at it playfully too. You felt surprised at how careful and affectionate he was being. But you enjoyed it. Greatly. So you didn’t do much besides watching. 

For now. 

Your chin to your neck were being kissed softly. He was careful, not to leave any marks.

Very much unlike you. 

Kissing your collarbone, with his mustache grazing your skin. You were so sensitive already, so turned on- his mustache tickled you extra much. He was getting a lot of irregular breaths out of you. His lips leaving pecks, making small endearing sound- whining with how eager he was to please you.

It didn’t take him very long to reach your breasts. Kissing your right one, massaging your left one with his hand. It was as if his hand and lips were synced, sucking on your nipple with the exact same delicate strength that he was pinching the other one with. 

Tangerine was sucking eagerly and moaning as he did. Fuck. 

Both of you were breathing heavily by now. Your brain had stopped working with how turned on you were, and all you could do is reach your hand up to his hair and ruffle his curls.

At some point you had enough willpower to huff out the words ‘good boy’ while stroking his hair and pulling it slightly. Getting moans out of him, as he was out of you. 

He chuckled. ‘listen it’s fine. Just let me pamper you a bit, mommy’ 

He knows damn well what gets you going, It’s not even been a full day. And he already knows how to play with you. 

‘Fuck you.’

‘You can.’

Both of you shared looks, laughed and he continued taking his sweet time pampering and worshipping your breasts, specifically your hardened nipples.

It made you moan a lot more, than you would have thought. 

Tangerine was not only talented, he was very observant. He had worked you up, left you wanting more. 

Usually people would take this chance to tease you, make you beg and dominate. 

But Tangerine did not. No, he held onto his words of being a good boy. One that wants to please you, worship you and eat you out. 

So when he noticed from your body language that you were ready for more and wanted more- he didn’t waste a single second, to give you exactly what you wanted. 

Kissing down a trail from your breasts to your belly. Nipping at your sensitive belly button carefully but enough to make you buck your hips. His hands following him down your body, gripping your sides and tracing your curves. Caressing you before they grip your thighs.

His breath hitched at the sight of your core. Yours did, at the sight of him down there. 

You didn’t know what to expect when he lifted his face and locked eyes with you.

But you noticed his demeanour, his devotion showing. You could tell from his body language that he was deep inside of that mind space, they call subspace. Ready to serve, ready to be yours once more.

‘May I have your permission?’

‘To do what?’ 

You replied with confidence and dominance. Your mommy persona, your assertiveness, your authority- that he so clearly respected and yearned for, showing.

Even with you being so sensitive from the pampering he’s been doing to your body- You will always be in control. You would always be Mommy.

And you could see from his smirk, that he loved it. 

He was flustered as you asked him to clarify, but he couldn’t hide that he was into it and into you.

‘To eat you out, miss. To make you cum, make y-‘

‘Shush, you do. Now put your mouth to use already.’

After all that teasing, you were eager as well. Eager for him to eat you out, eager for him to make you feel good. 

The moment he stuck his face into your cunt, you heard him moan. 

A low, guttural sort of moan- coming out of him the moment, he breathed you in. 

Some words, some nothings were mumbled from his side. The vibrations of him speaking into you making you, even wetter.

‘Fucking hell.’

Tangerine didn’t seem like he could hold himself back anymore.

His tongue licked from you slit to your most sensitive clit. A big fat, wet stripe, teasing enough to have you groan. Before you could instruct him to do anymore, he was already making nasty wet sounds. Slurping, mumbling, moaning.

He was your slut, for sure.

But he was good at what he did. Working on your inner lips (inner labias).

Sucking on them. Feeling them on his nose. Breathing them in. Groaning. 

Like a starved fucking man, with your pussy the source for life itself. 

He added a finger soon enough. But you noticed how he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were closed.

‘Aren’t you gonna look at me, dear?’

‘Y/n you taste so fucking good. I’m sorry love, I-‘ he looked at you and oh how you missed his sluttyself.   

‘No, no. That's not your choice to make, baby. Keep your eyes on mommy.’

He wasn’t hesitant to follow the orders you gave him. Not at all.

’Yes, mommy.’

‘See that’s better.’ 

Tangerine moved from your inner labia to your clit, his mustache kept on tickling you. You loved every desperate noise and movement he was making and kept on staring at him. 

And he truly was trying to keep his eyes locked with yours, but you tasted like heaven to him, so his eyes kept on fluttering.

Your hand moved through his locks, giving his scalp a massage before gripping a fistful of his fluffy curls to hold onto. He struggled even more to keep his eyes open now, moaning at your grip. ‘Fuck, darling’

The hand that kept on holding a fistful of your ass went to your cunt.  And he slipped his index finger in. Although, with how wet you were it took only a sweet little chuckle from the both of you, to know you were ready to take two. 

He pointed them upward and started the cliche motion of ‘come here’. Hitting your G-spot repeatedly. It certainly got you breathless and moaning quite fast. 

His tongue kept on softly sucking your clitoris. Flicking it with his tongue and at the same time sucking it into his mouth more and more. 

The mix between his hands and mouth stimulating you was one thing, but what was even hotter was how desperate he was being.

How desperately he wanted to please his mommy.

How with every lick, he moaned into you. Desperately trying to get closer to you, shoving his face into you deeper and deeper.

He’d gotten you far into bliss. Making you feel so much pleasure. 

It brought him so much pleasure, he started humping the bed. 

Humping out of neediness, out of eagerness. Humping because he wanted to give you his everything and his all.

The sight, the Touches. His desperation, his Neediness- his Submissiveness.

All things that got you closer and closer. 

Your legs were spasming. With your thighs clamping around his head, almost suffocating him.

But if he’d die right there, he’d die a happy man. 

Your back was arched with all the pleasure going through your body. And you kept on holding onto his hair. The grip strengthening.

Pulling it- his head, his hair towards you. With your body shaking the way that it was, you pulled him upwards. He was fighting back, trying hard to stay nose-deep inside your cunt.

His eyes- now fully focused on yours.

You, yourself couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. It was overwhelming, all he was doing to your body felt simply- too good.

Too pleasurable, too exhilarating. Too Perfect.

He didn’t stop and you didn’t want him to.

You kept on pulling his hair. Being overtaken by the pleasure.

Until you heard him scream. Not a guttural low moan, it was a deep scream of pain. You let go of his hair immediately, realising it was you who brought him pain.

‘Fuck, I’m so sorry.'

Obviously you didn’t mean to hurt him, you also didn’t mean for him to pull away his mouth and stop eating you out. 

Before you could say anymore and tend his scalp, Tangerine said words that made you cum from just the sounds of them. 

‘Do whatever you want love, I’m yours.’

That simple phrase, those simple words. 

From the man that was a mere stranger a few hours ago and is now slowly turning into the love of your life- made you cum, instantly. 

He was a bit surprised to see you cum from his words, but the smug smile on his revealed his pride. You two laughed it off and he licked you clean.

What a gentleman. 

———

Finally out of bed, sitting in your kitchen you made coffee for the both of you.

It was the first time, in what felt like ages, you two saw eachother in clothes again. 

Some robe of yours bound lazily around your waist and him dressed in his normal suit attire again, with only his hair a bit out of place. The rest of him looking as taken care of as when you met him. 

You handed him a mug and sat across him. Both of you laughing to eachother lovingly, once again eye-fucking.

‘Love, I wanted to tell ya, you taste fuckin divine. Excuse my language’

He sipped on his coffee and smiled at you, before briefly looking away. You kept your eyes on him and noticed the distress in his expression. 

His eyes said so much. They were telling a story to you. You could see the pain in them. The man must have been through something. At the same time, his eyes were so unbelievably cold. Was it only because they were blue? You wonder what it is he does for a living. 

There was still so much that you didn’t know about Tangerine or his life. But whatever it was like. You wanted him to share it with you, to become a part of it and make it better.

He sighed out loud. 

With a very concerned tone in your voice you asked him. 

’What is it?’ 

And with a big sigh he started talking.

‘..As much as I’d love to, I don’t know if I can fit a relationship into my life-‘

Your heart broke momentarily. Of course. Of course! It was too good to be true, wasn’t it just? 

No, it was fine. Your own life was too busy anyway. You were just being dramatic. Pfft- catching feelings for a hook-up. Some stranger named after a fruit, ha. 

‘It’s okay, I under-’

‘Let me finish.’

‘Oh?’ You laughed, his sharp tone catching you off guard. 

He looked embarrassed, speaking with a tone like that, to you.

‘Mhm, Sorry love, force of habit. Hear me out, please.’

You nodded. And he cleared his throat.

‘As much as I’d love to, I don’t know if I can fit a relationship into my life, but I would very much like to try.’

A soft smile formed on your face. 

‘I’d like that.’ 

----------------------------------------------------------

🍊Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

Share, comment, like, CUM to it!! See you next story ;)🍊

[eternalslover]

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Y/n: Hey I’m about to get in the shower. You wanna join me?

Tangerine: There’s a pistol taped underneath the island in the kitchen. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to shoot me. Aim for the head, don’t stop until I’m dead.

[lenacosse]

hello! can you please write tangerine x reader where he and his wife are working on the same mission without knowing it. she has ladybug as her usual partner and they have to pretend to be husband and wife. at some point, ladybug and tangerine are fighting and since ladybug wants a break from it, he’s like « wait, my wife’s coming » and when tangerine turns around its actually HIS wife

What?

pairing: tangerine x reader

cw: violence, strong language

word count: 3,842

(laughing cause this turned into the whole movie, obviously not cannon accurate but i had so much fun writing this)

══════════════════

"Alright that's me," you say as you zip your suitcase, you were going out to Japan to work on a mission with Ladybug. Tangerine did not know where you were actually going, when you first started dating you didn't tell him your job because it was too dangerous and you didn't want to scare him away and when things got serious between you both you were too scared to tell him because you didn't want to jeopardise things between you both so you fabricated a seamless lie about your occupation and he didn't suspect a thing.

"Same here," replies Tangerine. You walk towards him and put on hand on his bicep the other on the side of his neck, his hands go to your waist.

"Try not to miss me too much," you tease, a playful smirk forming at the corners of your mouth.

"Same can be said for you love." Tangerine winks, you roll your eyes and lean forwards. You press your lips to his and you share a passionate kiss, one that'll leave you longing for more later on when you lay awake thinking of him.

══════════════════

You arrive in Japan and instantly the whole new world amazes you, Japan was truly impressively innovative and futuristic. But you weren't here to enjoy the culture, you had a very simple mission to do, retrieve something from a train with Ladybug, what could possibly go wrong?

Ladybug answers the call from your operator for the mission, you're both given your code names. You got given Kitty- slightly humiliating you thought but you've had worse.

"Kitty?!" Ladybug complains, "I see you're playing favourites." He says to your operator.

"Oh I'd never," she responds. "Oh and also, you two are a newly wed adventurous couple who are on their honeymoon."

"Are they also complete losers?" You ask.

"indefinitely."

You both get to the train station which is bouncing with life, you walk alongside Ladybug who is talking with the operator about why exactly you two had been picked for the job, something about someone dropping out sick maybe? You weren't really listening.

"Shit." Ladybug says.

"Shit what?" You respond with a sigh, it was always something going wrong.

"I think I lost the key back there, some guy bumped into me."

"I'll get into it, what's the locker number."

"523." Replied the operator.

You get into the locker whilst Ladybug still talks about Carver, you do nothing but roll your eyes at how much he cares he wasn't a top priority for the mission. You gather the items in the locker, the pair of you put in your ear pieces and pack the little bag. You had no idea why half of the things were necessary but it really didn't matter, you were sure time would tell. There was a gun in there, which you wanted to take but your partner was on a no killing strike and wanted to become more peaceful, you thought that was ridiculous considering your jobs but his therapist had been filling his head with nonsense.

"Ladybug!" You grab his attention, ending his useless conversation. "The train.. it's about to leave."

"Oh. Let's go."

The two of you quickly shove your way onto the train, it was a very close call. Immediately you were impressed by your surrounding's, the train, even economy was borderline luxury.

"This place is nice," says Ladybug, nodding his head approvingly.

"Agreed." You respond, you both make your way down the train whilst your operator informs you both of the trains different compartments. Then she tells you what it is you're retrieving. A silver briefcase with a sticker on the handle.

"Briefcase owners are not simple to take from." Ladybug states.

"Can't say I've much experience stealing briefcases." You reply.

"The owners should be in economy class,"

"Owners? Plural. God I knew we should have taken the gun, fuck you and your therapist Ladybug." You tut.

"I was choosing spiritual enlightenment, besides there's two of us, two, hopefully, of them. We'll be fine."

You just sigh in response, the two of you continue walking where you're met with the ticket collector. You look to Ladybug who was the one in charge of the tickets, the prolonged pocket search told you everything you needed to know. You sigh once again pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Shit I think I dropped our tickets with the key,"

"Great! Fucking brilliant."

Another pocket search and Ladybug finds the receipt which the man reluctantly accepts.

"The takeaway from that is from now on I will hold onto important things, got it?"

"Fine by me." Ladybug concludes.

You both continue your walk through economy where you heard an all too familiar voice, the man who you just walked past sounded exactly like your husband. However you didn't see his face because Ladybug was blocking him, nevertheless there was no way it was him, he was on a business trip in London. Immediately that thought leaves your mind as you and Ladybug get to the luggage, you scan over the different bags.

"There's no fucking way were finding this," Ladybug scowls.

"Just did." You reply and grab the case careful of causing attention.

"Great work Kitty,"

"Hm, what's the catch?" You reply, things felt too easy.

"Just get off the train."

You both oblige and Ladybug attempts to conceal the case in his jacket, you would argue that it would only bring suspicion but your only focus was to exit. You both make your way through the different compartments again, your heart was thumping and you felt uneasy, but persevered until you stand at a door to exit.

"Ahh look, maybe my luck has increased," Ladybug says triumphally.

"God I hope so." You respond.

The train slows down and the door opens, on the other side is a very angry looking man with curly hair, a neck tattoo and a white suit. Who is looking at you with a look so intense it makes your skin crawl. Before you know it he is lunging at you and Ladybug with a knife in his hand, you gasp as he stabs Ladybug. The two of them fall back onto a glass door, shattering it and falling to the ground. But as he removes the knife it's revealed that he just got his phone, you sigh in relief and walk into the room they fell into as Ladybug stands up.

"You stabbed me?!" Cries Ladybug, it's a mere second until he lunges at him again. You watch as they fight, you look for a weapon.

You smash a champagne bottle over his head and at the same time Ladybug kicks him, making him stumble back. The comical fight between them continues, the man reveals his motive, something about you two being responsible for his wives death, which is ridiculous because it wasn't true. The man throws his knife at Ladybug who holds the briefcase up for protection, however the knife bounces back and hits the man right in the heart, killing him almost instantly.

"Well, so much for no killing." You say, as you take the knife from his chest and wipe it clean on his jacket. You put it in your pocket for later.

You help Ladybug clean up as you both attempt to figure out who he is with no luck you give up and you set him up on the seat eating a packet of nuts. Hopefully to distract from the fact he was dead, better than nothing you thought.

You and Ladybug split up, your job is to find a table and sit there for when he finds the owners of the briefcase. All the operator knew was that they were twins. Soon Ladybug comes to sit with you, telling you about how the twins aren't actually twins and how he just fought one in the quiet car.

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, we just have to get the case and leave."

"I can't just walk off they know what I look like."

"Well then, I'll get the case you try get off and I'll get past with the case, look at me no one will suspect me. You know this is a very sexist industry, but as of now it has its advantages."

You leave the other way of the train to make it back to retrieve the case whilst Lady bug works on finding a way to exit the train. You go to the place where you stashed the case, you however quickly learn it is no longer there.

"Fuck! For fuck sake. Stupid fucks must've got to it." You rant on as you practically tear apart the room looking for the case. And much to your dismay it is absolutely nowhere to be seen. You pace back and fourth trying to rack your brain on what to do- it was your only upper hand that the twins didn't know of your existence so you couldn't blow that by trying to retrieve the case of off them, you also didn't know what they looked like. Just as you're pacing you get a text message, it was from Ladybug.

'need ur help. i'm cornered.'

You sigh in dismay, but you knew you had to go and help Ladybug with this. So you work your way down the train, checking everywhere for your partner. You hear struggle in the distance so you knew you were getting closer, you brace yourself to walk in.

"Gotcha now, there's no way you're escaping you slithery bastard. Give me the case and you walk away untouched."

"For the last time we don't have the case."

"Yes you fucking do cause I ain't got it."

"Stop. My wife is coming, I don't want her to see this."

"Your wife? What sad sack is married to you."

"She's actually really hot I'll have you know." You walk in as Ladybug says that, you mentally gag.

You freeze on the spot as you see the back of the man fighting Ladybug. For some reason his hair was identical to your husband's hair, the height and build was also the same. But no... you were definitely wrong and simply overthinking. That is until he turned around and you swore you heart stopped momentarily.

"What the fuck?!!" Tangerine says.

You just stare at him as he stares at you, you had absolutely no idea what the fuck to do. How on earth has this happened? Ladybug looks between the two of you, the confusion plastered over his face.

"That's my wife. Not yours." Tangerine says, the expression on his face is unreadable, he didn't look angry.. but he wasn't happy to see you that's for sure.

Ladybug just starts laughing, clearly he doesn't believe it. But he soon stops once neither of you laugh with him. "Wait.. is this true?"

"Yes." You reply.

"You're married to this geezer?!" Tangerine says, he looked like he was going to kill someone, his fists were clenched and his breathing was quick. You couldn't help but let fear wash over you.

"No obviously not- we're on a mission." You sigh trying to find the words to explain yourself.

"I'm so fucking confused right now." Ladybug says, you glare at him and he quickly shuts up.

You lean against the counter and run your hands through your hair, Tangerine just stares at you and you get a proper look at him. He was roughed up, splattered with blood and messy hair. In any other context you'd be drooling over him.

"You're working with him to get the case?" Tangerine questions, crossing his arms.

"...yes," you awkwardly pick your nails, this whole situation was throwing you off, it felt weird between you and Tan now considering basically your whole marriage was a lie. Looking at him you wondered what else you didn't know.

"You lied to me." Tangerine walks closer to you.

"You lied to me." You narrow your eyes at him, standing up straight you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Well this is fucking weird," Ladybug says, you and Tan in sync tell him to shut up, and he does.

"We can talk about this later, I need that case." You say.

"No. You're not leaving my side, there's someone else running around here, I can't have anything happening to you."

A sense of relief washes over you as you learn he doesn't completely hate you anymore. Maybe your marriage wouldn't go to crap, but there was absolutely no way you'd be staying by his side like some helpless victim.

"No. I need the case, I can protect myself. And I will, I don't need you to hold my hand."

"(Y/N).." Tan starts.

"No." He just nods in response and passes you his gun, you take it and put it into your pocket, the air is filled with deadly silence. That is until Lemon walks in.

"There you are... oh (Y/N)." Lemon says, he stops dead in his tracks and does a take back. "(Y/N)?!" His face drops and he sends an alarming look to Tangerine who just shakes his head in response.

"What the fuck?!" You look between the two men, you truly couldn't be more taken aback.

Lemon nervously laughs. "Are you enjoying Japan? We had a change of plans, you know work is so unpredictable these days." He looks to Tangerine for help, he just runs his hand over his face whilst sighing.

"She knows everything and she's working with this dickhead." He points to Ladybug who just raises his hand.

"Right... well um great," Lemon falters you found it funny how confused he was, he never was great in awkward situations.

"Okay this was interesting but we've got places to be, come on Kitty."

You take one final glance at your husband who looks extremely stumped and Lemon who just looks puzzled, you weren't sure how the rest of this mission would go but you just knew you couldn't wait for it to be over.

You leave with Ladybug to go find the case again and leave the train, you knew Tangerine would be fine so you felt confident in your decision to leave him. Besides you had a mission to carry out and that you were going to do.

"How come I didn't know you were married?"

You sigh. "Because it is private information, I didn't want to put him in danger."

"He seems lovely.." Ladybug says, the sarcasm dripping off his words.

"He is lovely, you don't know him."

"Neither do you- he's an assassin and you had no idea."

"Shut up. We just need to get the case and get off this stupid fucking train."

You both make it to the first class longue and there the case is, back in its original spot. "That was not there when I looked." You furrowed your brows.

"You mustn't've looked properly."

"I fucking did, ripped the whole place apart."

Before you knew it you were in yet another fight, the Hornet lunged at you making you fall onto the table, you hit her over the head with the case allowing you to get up. It was a messy fight, arms and legs flying around. But here you are with a venomous needle inching towards you throat, you flip her onto her back and pry the needle out of her hand. You inject it into her neck and watch her face drop.

"Being killed by your own methods, that's dark." You watch as blood pours out of her eyes and her throat starts to close over, her struggled gasping and choking fills the area. You get up and watch as she dies, withering in pain.

"Fuck that was close." Ladybug sighs.

"Come on, we need to go."

The two of you make your way back through the train and down to economy. That's where you see Tangerine standing pointing a gun at a girl in pink with a bob. His expression is devasting yet full of a rage you've never seen in your life, it makes your stomach drop. Something has happened. You quicken your pace, Tangerine sees you and lowers the gun.

"What happened?" You ask, he looked borderline psychotic.

"Lemon, she." He points the gun at her, "killed Lemon."

You face drops and you look back to Ladybug.

"He's lying! Please help me, please." The girl pleads. You turn to her and punch her square in the face, knocking her back into the chairs. You punch her again in the throat, the move makes her blackout and you turn back to your husband.

"Fuck this job we need to get off this train."

Ladybug grabs the case and you three walk back the opposite way, ready to exist. Your mind is fuzzy and your head hurts, there's no way Lemon is dead, that reality devasts you. Lemon was like a brother to you, it broke your heart knowing things would never be the same. As you walk out of the train Ladybug doesn't follow you and Tangerine.

"Ladybug?" You look back to see him struggling against the girl in pink. "For fuck sake!"

"Just leave him, come on."

"No. I can't leave him. We need to help him." You walk back onto the train, Tangerine following you.

With much struggle you get the girl in pink on the ground, using zip ties you found in her bag you tie her hands together and force her into the seat. The four of you sit waiting for the next stop. No one uttering a word. A man comes to sit at the table next to you four, he immediately recognises the girl, she tells him his son is dead, his grandson next, yet he was one step ahead of her, so she sits useless and defeated, a look of triumph overcomes you, you wanted nothing more than to slit her throat but you knew she would have later value, so you leave her sitting there wallowing in her stupidity.

The man tells you all his story, you pick up on his wisdom, feeling nothing but trust towards him. So when he tells you all to follow him- bar the girl, you do. He takes you to the bathroom where his son, and Lemon lay. His son turns out is not dead and reaches for his father. Your eyes fixate on Lemon, unlike Tangerine who is leaning against the wall beside the bathroom. Your heart thumps as Lemon somehow yawns? His eyes open and he looks around, extremely confused.

"Am I in hell?" He questions.

"Oh my god!" You gasp, you turn to Tangerine who instantly stands behind you looking at Lemon.

He rips open his shirt, showing his bullet proof vest, where bullets sat, things were piecing together but you were extremely confused as to what exactly happened.

"Oh.. you drank the water." Concludes Ladybug.

"Water? What water?" Tangerine asks, looking to your partner.

"The water spiked with sleeping powder."

All of you go to sit, awaiting the next stop.

"I can't believe you're an assassin." Lemon says. As he sits opposite you.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," You shrug.

"We need to get off this bastarding train, no more being held back." Tangerine says, you could tell he wasn't half with it. None of you were but he was right.

"We need a plan," Ladybug says. You all agree, and the elder comes up with roles for each of you to properly execute the plan.

You go with Lemon to try and control the trains route, Tangerine goes with Ladybug to hand in the case and cause a distraction whilst the elder goes to take on the white death, something dramatic he said about getting his revenge.

"Fuck it's all in Japanese. There was no Thomas episodes in Japanese." Lemon scowls.

"It's fine, we'll figure it out." You respond trying to be optimistic.

"Okay, we just have to slow this down. Fucking stupid thing! Fucking slow down." Lemon curses.

"So far so good." Ladybug says as he approaches you both, "you can stop the train."

"We don't know how to fucking work this shit!" You groan trying to suppress your frustration.

Lemon and Ladybug go back and fourth, you head hurts from listening to them. Suddenly two men come through the door shooting their guns, you all duck down to shield yourselves from the bullets. You and Lemon lunge at the men, taking them down whilst leaving Ladybug to stop the train. One of the men had you up against the wall, hand over you throat choking you, you felt the life slowly draining your body and with every passing second you become more and more weak. You watch Lemon trying to take down two other men, he doesn't know you're being straggled. Just as you are about to accept your fate, Tangerine comes in, knocking the man to the ground and shooting him in the head. You gasp for air your fingers gently caressing your tender throat, Tangerine is instantly at you.

"Are you okay love?"

You nod and he strokes your cheek, a great sense of comfort overrides you, then he and goes to help Lemon take down the other two men. Whilst they do that Ladybug finally figures out how to stop the train. Or so you thought, the manual book flies out the window and the train collides with the one in front, you all grip onto something. Another two men make their way up to the driving cart, which you all in a group effort defeat. Ladybug starts pulling out all sorts of wires which make the slow down and ride right into a wall, sending you all flying forward through the train as it destructs its way through a village. You land laying on a patch of dirt, Tangerine beside you. You heard a gunshot and jump up, you see The White Dead dead with his brains blown.

You two make your way over to where Ladybug, the elder and his son are, not even two minutes later the girl in pink comes with a machine gun, talking about her fate and luck, which doesn't last long before she's hit with a moving vehicle.

"What the fuck..?" You sigh, you look to Tangerine who looks just as puzzled as you. Ladybug goes off with Maria your handler who came to get you both, you decided to stay with Tangerine and the two of you go to find Lemon.

"Can't believe I didn't realise you were an assassin. Seems so obvious now." Tangerine says, taking your hand.

"Yeah well I didn't notice either, besides. I think I'm done with it, today was too messy."

Tangerine nods in agreement, you both find Lemon who turns out was driving the truck that hit the girl. The three of you decide to go home, of course Lemon didn't rest until he found out the ins and outs of your work. You were relieved to know everything Tangerine had ever told you- besides obviously his job was true. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Please imagine Tangerine and Lemon trying to assemble something from IKEA as Tangerine is reaching previously undiscovered levels of stress. (They would have the funniest arguments over trying to do a task like that… I also feel like they would BICKER over putting up holiday lights, or trying to maneuver a Christmas tree through a front door and down a hallway.)

needed to write this into a little something haha! lemon, tangerine, and reader are roommates in this!

~ * ~

"Pivot!" Tangerine growls, clutching the end of the tree as pines prickle his cheeks and mess up his hair. "Goddamnit Lemon! Can ya listen to me for once!?"

"I am pivoting!" Lemon calls, pulling on the tree so it fits the narrow opening of their apartment door. "You're pushing too hard! Glinda is losing all her pines!"

"Glinda!!? I don't give I flying fuck how many pines Glinda is losing I just need her fat arse to fit inside the fuckin' door!" Tangerine screeches, pushing more. "I told ya she was too thick!"

"Stop fat shaming Glinda!" Lemon calls, finally pulling the tree through the door.

Tangerine stumbles, catching himself last minute. "Glinda isn't real. Glinda is a goddamn fuckin' tree!" he hisses, leaning the poor tree against the wall and catching his breath.

"Oi," you suddenly call from the ladder in the corner of the living room, holding up the warm white holiday lights so they can see them through the archway, "none of you fuckers answered the phone so I'm putting up these ones!"

"Y/n, you know I love the rainbow ones," Lemon sighs dramatically.

Tangerine sends him a glare and strains a smile your way. He wipes his brow. "They look lovely, love," he says, hiding his annoyance.

"Thanks." You smile. "Oh and there is an IKEA box to assemble. It's our new dinning room table since someone broke the old one," you say and glance at Lemon.

Lemon and Tangerine exchange a look and then glance at the IKEA box.

"Oh, fuck no," they say in unison, shaking their heads, which only earns a laugh from you.

[msmk11]

hi lovely!!

okay okay you know i'm IN LOVE with your Tangerine writings and i'm in big need of some good Tan hurt and comfort 😋😚 so if this is okay, the premise of my request is Tan being super aloof and seemingly uninterested in reader, like borderline mean, but the moment another dude shows an interest or she's in danger, he goes insane. like fully does anything to protect her and keep her as his!!

obviously feel free to ignore this if no inspiration strikes 🫶 sending my love! also no rush if you do think you wanna write it!

More Than I Should

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: drinking, partying

A/n: Hello my lovely Sky! Thank you SO much for requesting my dear. I don’t think I went as heavy on the tension as I could’ve, but I just think he’s such a big softie for reader that it’s hard!! I hope you enjoy and that it lives up to your expectations!!

“Well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite assassins.”

Tangerine and Lemon look up at you from their seats at the bar, mild surprise crossing their faces.

“Didn’t fancy you two to be people who spent their Fridays at a pub.”

Lemon snorts, “I reckon my bruv’s not, but I am. Love to people watch.”

You smile faintly at Tangerine, polite but detached. It’s not to say that you’re uninterested in the mysterious mustached man, but rather he’s always been aloof towards you.

“Alright Tangerine?”

He nods, “good as I can be.”

Lemon looks you over, eyeing your slightly more revealing clothes- fit for a night on the town, “and what are you up to?”

Across the room is a small group of your friends from university, sitting around a table picking at appetizers, “going out with some friends tonight. Reckon I need to let off some steam after all these jobs I’ve been put on.”

He chuckles, “I feel ya.”

“Well I uh, just thought I’d say hello. But I’m sure I’ll see you later?”

Tangerine gives you a neutral nod and Lemon fist bumps you before you turn and head back over to your friends, joining in on their rowdiness.

“Who were you talking to,” your old roommate, Sarah, slurs.

You wave her off, “just two coworkers.”

“So you just forgot to mention that you work with the sexiest men alive,” she replies, ogling Tangerine and Lemon equally, “Are they available?”

You nearly choke on your drink and Tyler, who is sitting to your right, pats you on the back.

“The fuck if I know,” you cough out, “I like to keep things professional, thank you very much.”

“Thank god they’re not my coworkers,” Natalie, who is across from you, adds, “I’d like to do some very unprofessional things to them.”

You groan and chug the rest of your vodka cran, “I’m gonna need a lot more drinks to deal with these two.”

Tyler agrees and hands you his card, “go get us some shots?”

The smooth plastic presses against your palm as Tyler places the silver card into your hand. You nod and kiss him on the cheek, promising to return soon. As the night has carried on, the crowd has only thickened, and you have to use your elbows to push through the swarm of people.

When you reach the other side of the room you call out to a bartender who is available and give her your order. Before you can hand over Tyler’s card, however, a voice interrupts you.

“Give me four more shots will ya. And put them on my tab.”

Tangerine stands next to you, a firm look on his face as you glance at him.

“Trying to steal my drinks?”

You swear a slight smirk plays on his lips.

“Just being friendly.”

A grin breaks out on your face, “I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary. But anyways, thanks. Although I suppose Tyler should really be the one to thank you. He was supposed to pay.”

The brunette’s eyes flick across the room to your group of friends, “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Tyler?” You laugh, “no way. He’s just a friend from school. Why do you wanna know?”

“Well, usually, if a man pays for a girl’s drinks voluntarily, he likes her.”

“But you paid for-“

You’re cut off, however, when the bartender returns with your shots in hand. You balance the tiny glasses between your fingers, hoping the sticky drinks don’t spill on your way back to your seat.

“Wanna join us?” You ask Tangerine.

“Suppose I don’t have a choice, seeing as Lem has already been kidnapped by your friends.”

Sure enough, Lemon has been crammed into the booth between Sarah and Natalie, the two of them fawning over him. Not that he seems to mind much.

“Jesus Christ,” you curse, pushing back through the crowd.

Tangerine follows behind you to the table, his and Lemon’s shots in his hands. You set the glasses down in relief when you arrive and pull Tyler’s card from your pocket, returning it to him.

“I see you’ve made some friends, Lemon,” you smirk, before giving a warning glance to Sarah and Natalie.

“He looked so lonely!” Natalie protests, “we couldn’t leave him alone!”

“I think he would’ve survived,” you say, rolling your eyes, “But alas. I think proper introductions are in order. Everyone, these are my coworkers Tangerine and Lemon. Tangerine and Lem, these are my friends Tyler, Sarah, Natalie, and Chris.”

They all exchange polite greetings, though Sarah’s are more friendly and Tangerine’s less so. You move to slide into the booth next to Tyler but freeze. There’s only one spot left on the bench but two people to fit in. And it seems there are no extra chairs in sight.

“Oh this is gonna be a problem…” you murmur.

“You can just sit on my lap, if you want,” Tyler offers.

“That’s not necessary. I can just squeeze in on the edge,” Tangerine offers gruffly.

You shake your head, “No, no, I will. I invited you over. It’s not a problem, really.”

The brunette attempts to protest but you resist, gently pushing him into the seat. You slide onto the edge next to him, your arms squished together. You shuffle a little, trying to get comfortable.

“Here.”

Tangerine carefully lifts his arm up and wraps it around your shoulders, giving you more room on the seat while tucked into his side.

“Better?”

His lips are close to your ear and his gaze intent, and you can’t help but shudder a little.

“Better.”

He nods and looks away from you, his attention caught by the incessant questions pouring from Tyler and Chris’ mouths.

Lemon is similarly preoccupied with Sarah, but Natalie is staring straight at you, her eyes flitting excitedly between you and Tangerine.

‘Oh my god!’ She mouths.

You stare at her, perplexed.

‘He totally likes you!’

You almost snort, her suggestion so preposterous you can’t help but laugh.

‘No way,’ you mouth back ‘he barely talks to me at work, let alone like me.’

Natalie only huffs, rolling her eyes, ‘you’re in denial.’

You scoff and shake your head, picking up a shot and throwing it back. You tune into the conversations happening next to you, but the constant warmth of Tangerine at your side distracts you more than you’d like to admit.

*****

A chill night at the pub has quickly turned into full on rallying, your hoard of misfits stumbling from bar to bar in search of drinks and maybe someone to warm their bed on this chilly night.

Unsurprisingly, Lemon has joined in with the chaos. Surprisingly, Tangerine has too- though he doesn’t seem all that happy about it. You don’t mind his mood, not really. It’s a little endearing, frankly. And anyhow, you’re used to it. It’s just funny to see in the current setting. The club is full of raging, drunk idiots, your friends included and yourself on the precipice. Yet, amongst it all is Tangerine- sober, stoic, and commanding.

Throughout the evening Sarah and Lemon have paired up as well as Natalie and Chris- and you pray the latter doesn’t make things messy again. This leaves you sandwiched between Tyler and Tangerine, the two remarkably opposite yet their attentions both fixed on you.

Loud bass thumps throughout the room and you jump along, your feet just slightly sticking to the sticky floor beneath you. Tyler is singing and dancing along with you, but you haven’t quite been able to convince Tangerine to do the same.

The former grabs your hand and spins you around. It forces a giggle past your lips but also makes you dizzy. You stumble out of the spin and the floor comes rushing towards you. You brace for impact, but it never comes. Instead, a pair of hands grab your waist, stopping your descent. They pull you up gently and turn you around. It’s Tangerine.

“Careful there.”

You chuckle nervously, “lost my footing. Maybe spinning and alcohol isn’t such a good combo.”

His mustache twitches and he hums in agreement, “maybe not.”

“You okay, love?” Tyler asks, tapping you on the shoulder.

Tangerine’s grip on your waist tightens barely, the action almost unnoticeable it’s so subtle. You’d gasp if it wasn’t in Tyler’s line of vision.

“Hmm yeah, fine. Just lost my footing.”

“Maybe I should hold onto you tighter,” he chuckles with a wink.

Tangerine’s grip tightens again, but this time it’s far from subtle. You look back at him, your brows furrowed in confusion, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s staring at Tyler, something dark and dangerous brewing behind his blue eyes. It’s a look you’ve seen before, in the field. A murderous one. You don’t know what it’s all about, but you don’t bother to ask. You respond to Tyler with a halfhearted giggle before moving to diffuse the tension.

“I love this song,” you cheer enthusiastically. You remove Tangerine’s hands from your waist and grab them with your own, “lighten up and dance with me, Tan.”

His eyes dart back to you and he grimaces. You only give him a warning glare to keep it together and he sighs, giving in. Tangerine dances, but stiffly. He lacks any real rhythm or fluidity, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes.

“What’s funny?” He huffs, squinting at you.

“N-nothing, nothing.”

You bust out laughing and he freezes.

“You fucking laughing at me?”

He doesn’t look angry, not really, but disbelieving.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You- don’t know how to dance, do you?”

Tangerine huffs and looks around before looking over your head at Tyler. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his credit card, “get us some drinks, will ya? On me.”

“What?” Tyler asks, scoffing a little.

“Get us some drinks, mate, yeah?”

Tyler scoffs again, “I can pay myself I-“

“Tyler, take the free drinks,” you warn.

‘Please’ you mouth.

He sighs and takes Tangerine’s card bitterly before stalking off towards the bar. Your eyes follow him out of sight, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. You’re too distracted to notice that the brunette has fully refocused his attention on you. He grips your waist suddenly and pulls you flush against him. This time, you do gasp audibly. Your head whips around and your noses brush, you’re so close.

“What’re you?”

“I’m showing you how to really dance.”

Tangerine proceeds to guide you through a series of steps, and you’re equal parts shocked and entranced. Despite the sticky floors, loud noises, and swarming crowd, you are only focused on Tangerine- the musky scent of his cologne, his blue eyes piercing yours, the firm grip of his hands, and his warmth right up against your front.

“Where’d you learn-“

He interrupts you by sending you into a dip. When he pulls you up again, he spins you and then grabs your hips to catch you. You’ve returned to your original positions, nose to nose, but now you’re panting heavily.

You can’t tell if it’s from the dancing or Tangerine.

“And that’s how a real partner spins you,” the brunette grumbles, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Right-“

“Drinks, anyone?!”

Tyler’s voice breaks the thick tension between you and Tangerine, and you accept the distraction gratefully. You spin around and grab the sweaty bottle, taking a long sip.

*****

Tangerine hates all of your friends. Okay, that’s a lie, he only hates Tyler. But he is mad at all of them. What sorta friends are you hanging out with that they leave you all alone in a bar? Okay, not alone. He is with you. And Tyler. But still? Frankly, he hasn’t seen any of those pricks in hours, including his own brother. You’re really drunk and Tyler is not far behind, and Tangerine’s about had enough of it all.

He’s checking his watch for the umpteenth time when he hears your murmur something about getting another drink.

“I think that’s about enough, love,” Tangerine interrupts, “you probably need to be getting home.”

You turn and look at him, your eyes softening into a big pout. He commits the precious look to memory but swears to never bring it up. Sober you would be beyond embarrassed.

“N-nooo, fine. I’ll be fine-“ you hiccup.

The brunette assesses you knowingly, “I don’t think so. Come on, I’ll call an uber to take us all back to our places.”

You stare at Tangerine with squinting eyes, like you’re trying to put him into focus.

“Fineeee, Mr. Moneypants. Come on, Tyler, we’re leaving.”

Your friend looks at you, “what? We’re not rallying to the next bar?”

You shake your head slowly, “time for bed, Ty.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and Tangerine clenches his jaw.

“I’ll get us an Uber?”

You pat Tyler on the chest, “not necessary. Tan is getting us one.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and moves his arm away, “alright fine, let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, the uber pulls up and Tyler takes the passenger seat, leaving you and Tangerine in the back. He guides you to the car and opens the door, gently helping you in so you don’t fall. He follows behind, taking a seat, and you collapse into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Another thing he won’t mention.

Tyler gives instructions to what Tangerine assumes is his apartment, and the car sets off.

Not much later the car comes to a slow halt and Tyler gets out of the car. He peeks his head back in, “come on, love. You coming?”

You drowsily stir from your place on Tangerine’s shoulder. “Mmm? No, I’m going home.”

Tyler sighs, “come on, why don’t you just stay the night? I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed.”

“No Tyler! I wanna go home!”

“Sweetheart-“

“She said she wants to go home, mate. Let it go.”

“And you’re gonna make sure she gets in safely,” Tyler asks rather bitterly.

“Stop the violence,” you mutter nonsensically, and the two hot-headed men look at you.

“Fine, whatever.” Tyler shuts the door and the car speeds off to your place.

Tangerine has no faith you will safely get from this car to your bed, so he pays the driver and gets out with you, supporting you around the waist as you stumble up the steps to your flat. You fumble for your keys in your purse, muttering curses as you shiver in the cold.

“Found it!”

You beam proudly, but then promptly drop them onto the concrete.

“Shit!”

“Here, let me, love.”

Tangerine bends down and grabs them before unlocking the door.

You step inside and he follows suit, careful to lock the door. Your place is homey, and undoubtedly suited to your taste. It even smells like you, and he can’t help but feel relaxed. He sets your keys on the coffee table and lets you lead him down the hall.

You stumble as Tangerine guides you into your room and onto the bed. He bends down on one knee, untying your shoes.

“Why don’t you like me?”

The brunette freezes, your question sending shivers down his spine. “What?”

“Y-you don’t like me Tangerine. And I don’t get it. Why? What have I ever done to you?”

He finally loosens the tie and peels your shoe off before starting on the other.

“Love, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Who said I didn’t like you?”

“Well you did. Okay maybe you didn’t say it. But you said it with your eyes. And the way you never talk to me or acknowledge me. I mean I’m not asking to be your best friend but…”

“You’ve got it all sorts of backwards, sweetheart.”

He pulls off your other shoe, “you have something to sleep in?”

“Oh no I usually sleep naked-“ you answer honestly, reaching for the hem of your shirt.

Tangerine grips your wrists, “that’s alright, you can wait til I’m gone.”

He’s grateful you’re drunk enough to not see him blush. The brunette gently pushes you backwards to lay down and throws your comforter over top of you. He moves towards the door.

“Wait, don’t leave!”

“I’m not, sweetheart, I’m just going to go get you some water.”

You relax back into your bed and nod sleepily.

When Tangerine returns with a glass in hand, you’re still. You’re even breathing tells him you’re asleep, so he simply sets the cup on your night stand and bends down, checking once more that you’re okay.

His eyes trail over your face. It’s softer than he’s ever witnessed before and his heart clenches painfully. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep and your lips have rested in a pout. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Unable to resist, he reaches out and cups your face, dusting his thumb across your cheekbone once, twice, three times before pulling away.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart,” he murmurs aloud, “I don’t hate you. I like you too much for my own good.”

Tangerine stands and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.

What he doesn’t see is your eyes fluttering open at the click of the door.

*****

I like you too much for my own good…

The words spin in your head over and over til you think you’re going to be sick. You sit up and grab the cup of water Tangerine left, taking multiple gulps. Only when you feel a little bit of calm do you finally climb out of bed. It’s a quiet, peaceful morning, opposite of your racing heart.

You trudge down the hall to your kitchen to whip up some coffee and trip over a pair of shoes.

“Fuck!”

You throw your hands out to catch yourself but you don’t hit the ground. A pair of arms catch you.

“How many times am I going to have do that?”

Tangerine is half on your couch, a smirk- an actual smirk- on his face.

You sigh and groan, sitting down onto the floor, “okay that wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who left your shoes in the middle of my floor. In my flat. Remind me, why are you here?”

Tangerine lets go of your waist and pulls back, sitting up stiffly.

“Well I went to take you to bed last night ‘cos you were fucking hammered, and when I tried to leave, the Uber was gone. I… didn’t fucking feel like calling another��� and your couch looked comfy… and I was worri- I wanted to make sure someone was here in case you were too drunk.”

Your heart swells, “you were worried about me? I’m starting to think maybe you don’t totally hate me.”

Your reminded of his words again and you freeze, catching his gaze.

“What?”

“Did you know… that I was awake last night. When you came back with the glass of water.”

The brunette grows impossibly stiff, “so you heard…”

“You like me more than you should?”

He sighs and restlessly runs his hand through his hair, “fuck me. Yeah. I’m- fucking Christ, sorry.”

You pull yourself up onto your knees, so that you’re closer to him, “because you’re sorry you said it? Or because you’re sorry I heard it?”

Tangerine grunts and looks down, sniffling, “The latter.”

Heat courses through your body at your confession and you tentatively place a hand on his knee. His head shoots up, his blue eyes looking at you in surprise and… something else. You hold his gaze, hoping your eyes communicate the desire humming through your body.

“Fuck,” he curses, before reaching out and grabbing your waist. This time, when he pulls you in, he kisses you gruffly, and you groan in surprise.

His mustache scratches your upper lip, but it’s not unpleasant. You run your hands up his sides to his shoulders, using his sturdy frame for balance as you stand and straddle his lap. He’s the one to groan this time, his grip bruising as he deepens the kiss.

Everything in this moment feels so good and perfectly right. Your body is alive, thrumming with excitement and desire and passion, and you’re pretty sure you could kiss this man forever and ever. In this moment, you’d do anything he asked.

So, you pull away, pacing yourself.

Tangerine groans as he rests his head on yours, “I wasn’t finished with you, sweetheart.”

“Take your time, Tangerine. We’ve got all day. And luckily, I like you more than I should.”

[j23r23]

Getaway Heart

Tangerine x Reader - angst & fluff

Warnings: blood & vomit

You’ve been a getaway driver since you got your license at 18, maneuvering through the streets with audacity and precision that caught the eye of all the right, and wrong, people. For the past ten years, you worked alone in the shadows, carving out a reputation as the go-to driver for high-stake jobs.

On a rainy evening, the twins handler, a no-nonsense woman with a penchant for dark sunglasses and cryptic instructions, invited you to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Madrid. The place smelled of oil and rubber. There she introduced you to the two men known only by their code names: Tangerine and Lemon. They were looking for a reliable driver, and their handler thought you fit the bill. You knew the Fruits were renowned in the industry for being very good at what they do but were slightly unhinged.

Tangerine was the first to step forward. He was tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dissect you with a single glance. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that contrasted starkly with the grime of the warehouse, he exuded an air of sophistication and control. His voice was smooth, almost velvety, “So, you’re the driver everyone’s talking about,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Lemon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Shorter and more muscular, he had a rugged look about him, with bleached hair and an unpredictable glare. His attire was casual— black jeans and a denim jacket—giving off a more approachable vibe. In his hand, he toyed with a small sticker book, flicking it absentmindedly as he watched you.

The initial meeting didn’t go smoothly. Tangerine’s aloof demeanor and Lemon’s staring put you on edge. Tangerine scrutinized your every word and movement, as if searching for a weakness, while Lemon tested your patience with his relentless talk about trains.

“Look, love” Tangerine finally said, crossing his arms, “we don’t have time for screw-ups. We need someone who can handle the heat and think on their feet. Can you do that?”

You met his gaze, your jaw set in determination. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know that hesitation can get you killed. I can handle the heat. Question is, can you keep up? Oh, and the names Orange, love.”

There was a moment of silence before Lemon burst into laughter. “I like this one,” he said, clapping Tangerine on the shoulder. “Got some fire in her.”

Tangerine’s lips curled into a faint smile, the first sign of approval. “Alright Orange,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The memory made you grin.

Right after meeting the twins you had your first job together and it was utter chaos��shit hit the fan, sirens blaring, guns a blazing and the scent of burnt rubber hanging heavy in the air. You were behind the wheel, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigated the streets of Madrid with precision.

"Tangerine, we've got company!" Lemon's tone was annoyed.

Tangerine, cool and collected, leaned out of the window, firing off shots with deadly accuracy. "I can see that, Lemon! Im not blind!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, as the banter between the twins was getting on your nerves. "Would you two save the chatter for later? I'm trying to concentrate here!"

Lemon laughed. "Relax, Orange, we've got this under control."

You just sighed in annoyance and literally put your foot down, pushing the pedal to the metal.

Tangerine, sitting in the seat behind you, clung to the door handle, as hes being pushed back by the force of the speeding car. "Bloody hell, Orange? " he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and irritation.

Lemon, in the backseat, looked even worse. His face was pale, and he was gripping the headrest in front of him for dear life. "For the love of all that's holy, slow down!”

You smirked, your eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. "Relax, boys. Let me do my job and i let you do yours" you said, narrowly missing a pedestrian who decided now was the perfect time to jaywalk.

"Relax? Relax?!" Tangerine's voice went up an octave. "We’ve got the entire Mafia of Madrid after us, how in hell am i supposed to work when you’re driving like a maniac!"

You took a sharp turn, the tires screeching in protest. The car tilted dangerously, but you managed to keep it from flipping. Lemon made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a growl. "If we die, I’m haunting your ass!"

"Hold on to something!" you yelled, spotting a narrow alleyway ahead. Without hesitation, you swerved into it, the car barely fitting between the buildings. The side mirrors scraped against the brick walls, sending sparks flying.

Tangerine’s knuckles were white from gripping the door handle. "Jesus Christ, woman!"

You chuckled, adrenaline pumping through your veins. "I got hired for my driving skills, remember?"

Lemon let out a strangled laugh. "Skills? More like suicidal tendencies!"

As you burst out of the alley and back onto a busy street, a car tried to cut you off. With a quick flick of the wheel, you sideswiped it, sending it crashing into a parked truck. "One down, a few dozen to go," you quipped, glancing at your handiwork in the mirror.

"Just keep us in one piece!" Tangerine barked, looking both impressed and terrified.

You sped towards an upcoming construction site, an idea forming in your mind. "Hold tight," you warned, accelerating even more.

"Oh hell no!" Lemon groaned, clearly dreading your next move.

You aimed for a ramp leading up to a half-built overpass. As the car launched into the air, all three of you screamed—though in your case, it was more of a whoop of excitement. The car soared over the gap, landing with a bone-jarring thud on the other side. The cars that are chasing you weren’t so lucky; the first few smashed into the gap, creating a massive pileup.

Tangerine looked at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in short gasps. "You’re absolutely mad, you know that?"

Lemon, still clutching the headrest, nodded fervently. "Completely off your rocker."

You gave them a cheeky grin. "But i got rid of them, no?"

As the car sped away from the chaos behind, Tangerines eyes still held a hint of disbelief. "You’re a bloody lunatic!"

Lemon slumped back in his seat, finally letting go of the headrest. "Next time, I’m driving."

You laughed, the thrill of the chase still coursing through you. "Sure."

After a few more sharp turns you finally pull into a secluded garage. You killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the chaos.

"You two okay back there?" you had asked, trying to suppress a smirk.

Lemon had groaned, his face pale as a sheet. "I think I'm gonna be sick, now that we stopped," he had mumbled, clutching his stomach.

Tangerine had shot him a glare before leaning out of the window, retching onto the pavement. "Yeah, and somehow we made it out alive!” he had grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You turn in your seat looking at the boys smiling. Tangerine shook his head, laughing despite himself. “But remind me never to question your driving skills again.”

“Deal” you replied with a grin.

After that night, the three of you went through countless jobs together, facing danger with unwavering trust in one another. As time passed, your feelings toward Tangerine began to change. Working alongside him, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he flashed a rare smile or the way your pulse quickened at his touch.

The more jobs you pulled, the deeper your affection for him grew, and the harder it became to suppress your emotions.

And now, something feels off. As you sit in the driver's seat of your idling car, the engine's purr does little to calm your anxious nerves. The night is heavy with tension, the rearview mirror becoming your only solace. You glance back repeatedly, your mind racing through every possible outcome of tonight's job.

Tonight's mission was supposed to be a straightforward smash and grab. The target: a high-end jewelry store fronting as a money laundering operation for one of the city's major crime syndicates in London. Intelligence indicated minimal security—just a couple of guards, easily neutralized. Tangerine and Lemon were tasked with infiltrating, grabbing the goods, and getting out before anyone noticed. Simple, clean, efficient.

You were parked in the back alley of the building, engine running, ready for the signal. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an hour. Something gnawed at your gut, a premonition that things weren't going according to plan. You'd run through every escape route, every contingency, but no amount of planning could shake the unease that had settled over you.

The longer you waited, the more your thoughts drifted back to Tangerine. His smile, his confidence, the way he always seemed to know what to say to calm you down. You remember the first time he took a bullet for you. He had laughed it off, calling you a softie for worrying. That was Tangerine—fearless, almost reckless, but with a heart that beat fiercely for those he cared about.

You trusted them both with your life, but tonight, that trust felt more like a lifeline, taut and fraying with each passing second.

The rearview mirror offers no new insights, just the darkened street and the distant sounds of the city. You grip the steering wheel tighter. You can almost hear Tangerine’s voice, telling you to stay calm, to trust the plan. But the plan is starting to feel like a distant memory, overshadowed by a growing fear that this time, things won’t go as smoothly as they always have.

And then, like a thunderclap, the back door of the building bursts open.

Suddenly, Lemon charges through the back door of the building, supporting a hunched over Tangerine. It's clear that this simple job has gone terribly wrong. As they stagger closer, you see the blood—Tangerine is losing a lot of it. You reverse the car and drive towards them. Lemon yanks open the back door, practically shoving Tangerine inside before he climbs in himself.

"Go, go, go!" Lemon shouts, urgency in his voice.

You change immediately into first and slam the gas pedal to the floor, the tires screeching as the car lurches forward. The doors are barely closed, but you don’t have time to worry about that. In the rearview mirror, you see Lemon struggling to put pressure on one of Tangerines wounds, while the latter squirms in pain.

"What the fuck happened?" you demand, weaving through traffic with precision.

"Tangerine underestimated the Job, didn't wear his west and got shot," Lemon replies, his voice strained. Tangerine just groans, clearly in too much pain to speak.

"You didn't wear your fucking west?" you scoff, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. "You always chastise us when we're not wearing one, what the fuck were you thinking!"

"Yeah, well," Tangerine mutters in pain, "we all make mistakes."

You maneuver through the city's maze-like streets, dodging late-night traffic and running red lights. The city's neon lights cast eerie reflections inside the car, illuminating the tense scene. The smell of blood fills the air, and you can hear Tangerine's labored breathing from the back seat.

"You better not die on me, Tangerine," you say, your voice tight with a mixture of fear and anger. "I’m not dealing with your expensive funeral."

Tangerine tries to laugh, but it turns into a pained groan. "Always… so considerate," he manages to say between gasps.

"Save your strength, mate," Lemon says, pressing another wad of cloth against Tangerine's bleeding abdomen. "We need you to stay awake."

The car roars down a narrow alleyway, the tires barely gripping the slick pavement as you take a sharp turn. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Every second counts, and the safehouse feels a million miles away.

"I swear, if we make it out of this alive, you're going to owe me one pristine car cleaning," you assert firmly, your voice tinged with worry.

"Deal," Tangerine replies, his eyes closing. Lemon looks at you through the rearview mirror "Just get us there in one piece."

You weave through the final stretch of city streets, your knuckles white on the steering wheel. The safehouse looms ahead, a nondescript building that has become your haven in times of crisis. You screech to a halt after driving into the garage, the car barely stopping before you pull the handbrake.

"Help me get him inside," Lemon says, rushing out and opening the back door. Together, you and Lemon half-carry, half-drag Tangerine towards the entrance, his blood leaving a grim trail behind you.

"Hang on, Tan," you whisper, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "We're almost there."

Inside the safehouse, the familiar surroundings offer little comfort. You clear the kitchen table with a sweep of your arm, sending everything crashing to the floor.

"Lay him down here," you instruct. "I need to see how bad it is."

Tangerine's eyes flutter open, and he looks up at you with a weak smile. "You always did know how to make things dramatic, love" he jokes, his voice barely a whisper.

"Shut up," you say, your throat tight. "Just let me fix you up."

As you rip open his shirt, revealing the extent of his injuries, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. Four bullet wounds, two in his left shoulder one in his right arm and the worst is stuck in the right side of his abdomen.

This isn't just another job gone wrong. This is a fight for survival. And in this moment, all you can think about is keeping Tangerine alive.

"You ruined my Burberry suit," Tangerine complains weakly, attempting a half-hearted smirk.

"I said, shut up," you snap, your voice tight with worry. Your hands move quickly, working to stop the bleeding. Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to focus, ignoring the emotional storm brewing inside you.

Lemon stands by, trying to keep pressure on the wounds. He looks at you, concern etched on his face. "You alright?" he asks, noticing your tears.

You nod, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders. Each bullet you extract from Tangerine's flesh elicits an excruciating scream from him that reverberates through the room and it slices through you like a knife. But you steel yourself against the anguish, focusing solely on the task at hand. With each bullet removed, Tangerine's body relaxes a fraction, but his agony remains palpable.

Exhaustion settles over him like a heavy shroud, and he slumps back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. You work quickly, stitching him up as best you can with trembling hands, the urgency of the situation lending you a sense of clarity.

Once Tangerine is bandaged and relatively stable, you turn your attention to the smaller cuts and abrasions littering his body. With gentle care, you clean away the blood, your movements deliberate and precise as you tend to his wounds.

When you finally finish, you look to Lemon, concern etched into your features. "You got any injuries?" you ask, your voice laced with worry.

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering as he grabs a blanket and pillow, arranging them to make Tangerine's makeshift bed on the kitchen table a little more comfortable.

You look at your blood covered hands and your mind starts to race,

The reality of the situation sinking in. Despite your years of experience you can't shake the feeling of helplessness that washes over you. You've faced danger countless times before, but this time feels different.

As you turn to wash the blood away in the sink, Lemon appears at your side. His eyes hold a depth of understanding that cuts through the turmoil in your soul.

"Not exactly the night we planned, huh?" Lemon tries to joke, but his voice wavers.

"Yeah…" you reply, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You love him, don't you?" Lemon's voice breaks the silence, gentle but insistent.

You pause, the question hanging in the air. Tears spill over, and you nod, holding in a sob. "Yes," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I do."

Wordlessly, he reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. His touch is grounding.

With a steadying breath, you push aside the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You look back at your shaking hands seeing the sink run red as you rinse the rest of Tans blood away, the water swirling slowly like the tension in your chest. The room feels both too small and too vast, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Lemon's eyes soften with understanding. "Does he know?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, tears now flowing freely. "No," you manage to choke out.

Lemon gives you a sad smile and pats your back. "It's gonna be okay. He's tough. He'll pull through. He's Tangerine, after all."

You look over at Tangerine, his face pale and his breathing shallow. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You sink to your knees beside the table, clutching his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his bloodstained shirt.

"I should have told him, “ You whisper, your voice breaking. "I should have told him every day."

Lemon kneels beside you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He knows," he says softly. "Somehow, he knows. And he’s fighting.”

The room is silent except for the faint, labored breathing of Tangerine. You press your forehead to Tangerine's hand, your sobs shaking your entire body.

"Please, don't leave me," you whisper, your voice raw with pain. "I can't do this without you."

"He's going to make it," Lemon murmurs, more to himself than to you. "He has to."

You cling to those words, praying that they're true. Because the thought of a world without Tangerine is too much to bear.

When the morning sun shines through the kitchen window, you stir, the warm light nudging you awake. You jolt up, immediately checking on Tangerine and finding him still breathing, albeit slowly. His chest rises and falls steadily, and a wave of relief washes over you.

Your body aches from the uncomfortable sleeping position, but you ignore it, stretching briefly before moving around the kitchen to make some coffee, the familiar routine grounding you.

Suddenly, you hear a faint sound. Turning around, you see Tangerine, though barely conscious, calling out for you, reaching out weakly.

"Hey, " he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed but a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You rush to his side, your heart heavy yet light with relief. “don't go too far" he whispers, his hand finding yours.

"Lemon!" you call out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions. "Lemon, get in here!"

Lemon appears in the doorway, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. "What's going on? Is he—?"

"He's awake," you say, unable to contain the sob that escapes your lips. "He's going to be okay."

Lemon's face softens with a mixture of relief and joy. He steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I told you he's tough," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Tan doesn't go down that easily."

You nod, unable to speak, the relief washing over you in waves. You stay by Tangerines side, his hand still clasped in yours, feeling the weight of the nights fear and uncertainty lift just a little.

Lemon places a gentle hand on your back, his voice soft but firm. "You need to rest. Take a shower, change into some fresh clothes. I'll keep an eye on him."

You hesitate, glancing back at Tangerine "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice wavering with concern.

"I'm sure," Lemon reassures you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Lem." you shake your head at his compliment and make your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading over you feels like a much-needed cleanse, washing away the grime and the fear of the night. You change into fresh clothes, feeling a bit more human, and take a moment to steady yourself before heading back to the kitchen.

When you return, you see Lemon leaning close to Tangerine, their voices low as Tangerine attempts to sit up, wincing with every movement. Lemon supports him, and you quickly move to their side, slipping an arm around Tangerine to help. Together, you guide him into one of the bedrooms, easing him onto the bed so he can rest more comfortably.

"Thanks," Tangerine murmurs, his face still pale but his eyes more focused.

"You need to rest," you say, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "We'll be right outside." As you and Lemon turn to leave, Tangerine's voice stops you.

"Wait." His hand reaches out, grabbing yours weakly. You look at Lemon, who gives you a knowing nod.

"I'll give you two some privacy," he says softly. "Call if you need anything." You nod at Lemon before turning back to Tangerine.

"You scared the living daylight out of me last night," you admit, your voice trembling slightly as you sit on the edge of the bed, Tangerine's hand still clasped in yours.

"I didn't mean to," he replies, a weak smile playing on his lips. "But I guess I did give that Burberry suit a run for its money."

You manage a small laugh, tears of relief filling your eyes. "I guess I owe you a new shirt," you say, your voice breaking with emotion as you remember ripping it off him to stop the bleeding.

"And i owe you a pristine car cleaning," he replies, squeezing your hand tightly, his smile widening.

Your laughter fades and you sit in silence for a moment, gathering your courage. You know that now is the time to speak your heart. “Tan I—” you begin, but Tangerine interrupts, his expression soft.

"Thank you." He looks down for a second, watching his hand play with yours. “Sorry, you were saying,” he looks back up into your eyes.

You blink in confusion, feeling your cheeks flush. "Oh, erm… you don’t have to thank me. It’s... it’s part of the job." you mumble.

Tangerine’s grip on your hand tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s more than just a job to you, isn’t it?"

You swallow hard, the truth pressing against your lips. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to hold back the tears. "It’s more. So much more."

He nods, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Lemon might have hinted at it before, but I’ve suspected for a while."

A mixture of relief and embaressement washes over you. "Lemon and his big mouth," you mutter, a weak laugh escaping your lips.

Tangerine chuckles, but winces in pain. You scold him lightly. "Don’t laugh, you idiot. You need to rest."

He grins despite the pain, bringing his hand to your cheek. "Will you stay?"

You lean into his hand, feeling his touch. "I'll stay." you whisper, tears falling freely now.

Tangerine’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek. "I’ve been feeling the same way you know. For a while actually."

Your heart races, and you struggle to find your voice. "What?" Tangerine’s eyes flick between your eyes and your lips before he closes the gap, kissing you softly. The kiss is tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions you’ve both been holding back.

Its a clusterfuck, but someone might like it...