#tangerine bullet train fluff

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x wife!fem!reader

Summary: When your sister's new mystery fiancé is someone you know from university, your husband isn't very happy.

Genre: fluff and hurt and comfort

Warnings: protective!Tangerine, reader is pregnant, mentions of stalking, knife/gun wounds, swearing, suggestive ending.

~ thank you to the anon who requesting this! ~

"Ah," you groan, burning yourself on the saucer as you transfer the pasta into the strainer over the sink. Your husband, who'd just finished setting the table to his liking, peeks his head inside the kitchen. 

"You ok, luv?" he asks, coming over and guiding your hand to the faucet where he turns on the cool water, "All better, yeah?" he asks, almost mocking in the kindest way and he kisses the crown of your head as the water runs over your wounded palm. 

"My poor girl," Tangerine is really laying it on thick now as he kisses behind your ear. "D'ya need me to finish up here?"

You turn, looking up at him, and nod, "Would you? They're coming over at nine and I haven't even showered or changed—and the warmth is making me feel all woozy." You emphasize this point by fanning at your face with your wet hand, water droplets cooling your skin, and Tangerine cups his hand over your stomach. 

"'Course my darlin'. What an awful husband I am havin' ya cook while you're pregnant. I'm sorry, my luv," he says genuinely, ignoring your attempt to remind him you'd wanted to make the meal since it's your sister's favorite, as he practically shoos you away. 

"I'll call ya down when they've arrived, hm?" 

You nod, smiling as you make your way up the stairs to shower and change for dinner.

As the oldest, you've always been protective over your sister. Andy had this tendency to jump into situations impulsively and when she'd called and gushed over her new fiancé, you had been slightly concerned for her considering she'd gotten engaged within just four months of meeting him. 

So, with Tangerine's approval, you had invited them both over for dinner. 

Once you finish adjusting your dress in the mirror, you make your way downstairs and smile at the familiar sound of Andy's rambling.

The room smells like the spaghetti you'd started and Tangerine had finished, and you see that he has poured both Andy and her fiancé a glass of wine.

He hasn't poured one for himself considering he doesn't drink when you don't. 

Seeing you, Andy instantly squeals and rushes up to pull you into her arms. "Oh my, just look at you," Andy exclaims and looks at your dress, which shows your baby bump, "You been taking good care of my darling sister?" She looks at Tangerine with a light-hearted frown and points at him accusingly. 

"Mmhm, only the best for my darlin'," Tangerine smirks and moves closer so he can kiss your cheek. You feel all warm and fuzzy inside as you smile at your husband. You're too preoccupied with your happiness to fully hear Andy introduce her new fiancé until Tangerine nudges your shoulder and you look up at your sister's future husband. 

You're happy you hadn't been holding a wine glass because it would have fallen onto the ground instantly.

"This is Oliver," Andy says, hugging him closely as she draws hearts on his chest. The man is tall and slim and he has dusty blond hair. His eyes, which the blue reminds you of Tangerine's, are piercing into yours and you shudder. 

You know him. 

Tangerine can see your discomfort and he squeezes your hand. He doesn't mention it. He doesn't want to make a scene and he's distracted by Oliver shaking his hand. "Hi," Oliver then moves his hand to you and he continues to stare. You feel sick but you know you have to shake his hand anyway.

"Hi," you answer and strain a smile.

Andy jumps in immediately with a new topic of conversation, happily introducing the man she loves to you and Tangerine. You feel like you're underwater as you stare at Oliver and all those memories; of the bundles of flowers and the endless phone calls swarm and drown you. 

Tangerine's hand in yours is the only thing now keeping you above water.  

"Excuse me," you say early into dinner as Tangerine finishes serving everyone some pasta. You've barely sat down but you suddenly feel sick to your stomach so you rush to the bathroom.

After only a moment, you hear your husband's worried voice from behind the bathroom door. 

"My luv, are you alright in there? Is everything okay?" he calls and raps on the door with his knuckles. 

You let him in instantly, your eyes round as you pull him inside the bathroom. Tangerine stumbles inside and looks you up and down with confusion. 

"The baby's okay," you reassure him breathlessly and his expression softens.

"I didn't ask if the baby was okay," he says gently but places his hand on your stomach as a way to show he's grateful the baby is okay, "I asked if you were okay, my heart." 

You look up at him, holding in your frustrated tears. "I know Oliver," you whisper. 

Tangerine frowns but he understands what you mean. "You do?" 

You nod and start to explain. "Yeah, I know him from university. We were classmates freshman year and then—it became weird. Remember that stalker I had? It's him. He was obsessed with me and would ask me out numerous times and when he finally asked for my number, he wouldn't stop calling and following me around. The university got involved and he left junior year. I haven't heard or seen him since but Tan, I know it's him. I just know," you sound scared and your husband hates the sound.

"Sweetheart," he says and pulls you in closer, his hands cupping your cheeks. "I believe you, darlin'. You wouldn't lie about something like this. What do you need me to do? Should I kick him out–or—"

"No!" you lean your head on Tangerine's chest, sighing as you clutch at his shirt, "Andy clearly loves him. I can't ruin this for her."

Tangerine's hand rests against the back of your head, his thumb soothing in your hair. "But, if he makes you uncomfortable—"

You interrupt him, "I can deal with one dinner and then I'll tell Andy about all this privately. It has to be her decision, okay?"

"I do not want your stalker as our brother-in-law, Y/n," Tangerine says sternly. 

"It's not about us! It's about Andy and– please can you pretend I didn't tell you anything tonight?" you say, "And I'll pretend I don't remember him."

Tangerine can see the determination in your eyes. He wants to protest and tell you you don't have to go through with this dinner but he can tell you want to protect your sister more than yourself and he knows he has to respect that.

So, he puts on his best fake smile as you both return to the table. Tangerine hates pretending like this, especially because now he's overanalyzing every look Oliver is sending you. His blood boils even more when Olicer asks you, 

"How far along are you?"

How dare that bastard ask about his baby?  

You take a bite from your fork and strain a smile, nudging Tangerine's calf to convince him to stay quiet as you answer the question. "Almost six months now," you say and Oliver uses this as an opportunity to look you up and down which makes you visibly tense. 

"Yeah, my darlin' has been a real trouper," Tangerine fakes a laugh at Oliver's question and rolls up his sleeves, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek. You know what he's doing instantly because you've seen the number of bullet wounds grazes and knife slashes he has on his forearms, as well as the tattoos that cover his skin. 

He's intimidating Oliver and by the look on the poor man's face, it's working. 

"And she has me to help 'er, right, luv?" He smiles and tilts his head in Oliver's direction, drumming his hand on the table as he brings attention to the scars there and the amount of rings he's wearing—especially his wedding band.   

Oliver stares at you less after that. 

As you say your goodbyes to Andy, you tell her you'll call her later, and then smile politely at Oliver—who doesn't say much to you or Tangerine and once your front door is shut you turn around and narrow your eyes at your husband. 

"I saw what you did," you say and Tangerine raises his arms in mock confusion. He winks and then starts to clear the table. You follow him, trying to do the same but he sends you a look and you retaliate, instead leaning against the kitchen counter as you watch him.

 "You didn't need to show him your scars like that. Andy doesn't know what you do for a living, remember?" you sigh. 

Tangerine hums, "I wasn't showing them to her," he shrugs and loads up the dishes into the dishwasher. 

"I wanted that bastard to know what I would do to him if he even considered hurting you again. I wanted him to know what I'm capable of," he finishes.

You sit down on a chair, holding your stomach and you sigh. Tangerine turns to look at you over your shoulder, "Ya okay, darlin'?" he asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel as he walks over and kneels in front of you, his hands on your knees. 

You nod. "I'm just a little tired," you whisper.

Tangerine caresses your cheeks. "See, this is why I had to intimidate the bastard. You were under unnecessary stress and that makes him a threat to everything I hold dear," he whispers and kisses your stomach over your dress. "Ya know I won't let anyone hurt you, luv, yeah?"

"I know," you say, running one of your hands in his curls and twisting one in your finger as you contemplate admitting this. "I did think it was hot," you admit, "Seeing you show off your arms like that."

Your husband's grin widens. "Yeah?" 

You glare at him and suppress a smile. "Oh, don't get a big head about it, you prat." 

Tangerine laughs and stands up, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He straightens up and flexes his muscles, sending you a playful wink. "Is this making ya all hot and bothered for me?"

You shake your head but the way you're staring at him says otherwise. Tangerine helps you stand, smirking as he sees that look in your eyes. He knows your pregnancy sometimes makes you hornier than usual and he can read your moods easily now. 

"Want me to make the ache go away?" he teases and kisses your cheek. 

You laugh breathlessly and wrap your arms around his neck. "Okay," you say and then look at him seriously, "But you're doing all the work. I just wanna lay there," you pout, "I'm tired."

Tangerine smiles and nods, "Such a princess," he teases and then succumbs to your wishes, "But anything for you, luv'."   

[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.

[sebsbarnes]

confessions || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.

warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood

word count: 1.1k ; fluff

tangerine masterlist

you jolted awake, "what the hell," you mumbled.

eyes half open you patted around on the bed for your phone. the blaringly bright picture of a sunset staring back at you.

4:07am.

the noise that woke you up sounded again. banging at your front door. carefully you slipped out of bed and opened the drawer to your nightstand, grabbing the gun. slowly, you walked through the house creeping towards the door. the house felt eerily quiet more so than ever. the gun was held behind your back and before you could turn the doorknob you hear a voice.

"it's me."

you opened the door, "why are- jesus christ tangerine."

he smiled weakly at you, sort of shrugging, the suit jacket draped over his arm moving with.

"hey, love," he said dejectedly.

his typically smoothed back hair showed no sign of gel as his curls were a mess. the fitted suit that adorns his body was now loose with blood splattered sporadically on the fabric. the button-down shirt rolled up on his arms exposed his battered forearms. there was dirt on parts of his face, dried blood across his cheek and forehead, and a split lip.

"come in," you whispered, grabbing his hand pulling him in.

you locked the door and turned to the kitchen with tangerine still in tow. you turned the lights on in the kitchen, grabbing him water and pain reliever.

"eat these if you need something. i'm going to grab the first aid kit, alright?" you placed a box of crackers next to him on the counter and retreated to a hallway closet. when you came back, he was munching on a few and the glass of water in his other hand.

"okay now, what's the worst?"

"some prick got me in the thigh with glass," he grimaced gesturing to the torn trousers. you leaned in gently placing your hands on his thigh around the cut.

"take your pants off."

"well, that's quite forward love now, innit?" tangerine chuckled softly.

all you could do was roll your eyes as you turned around giving him a moment to hop off the counter and remove his pants. when you turned back around you couldn't help but swallow harshly at the man's muscular thighs.

"there's still bits of glass in this babes, i'm gonna have to take it out," tangerine hummed in response, clearly tired from whatever job he just came back from.

you grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed small pieces of glass left inside the wound and all tangerine could do was hiss in response. the wound was then cleaned and after tangerine gave you the greenlight, he let you stitch him up.

"now don't go fuckin' around you hear me. that's a good stitch," you said pointing at the finished product.

"yeah whatever darlin'," tangerine retorted.

you moved up to his face to clean the dirt and blood off him. you slid between his legs to get closer, fingertips accidently brushing over his thigh as you grabbed the rag next to him on the counter. you didn't notice the goosebumps that sprang to life on his skin and raced throughout his body. your lips were slightly pursed as the rag glided across his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of an earlier job.

tangerine couldn't help but stare at you during your concentration. the way your eyes danced across his face inspecting every minute detail. your eyelashes- god since when were they that long? he couldn't help the tiny smile that etched its way onto his lips hearing the small whistle your nose made as you breathed in and out. it was something you mentioned in passing that you hated, after your nose was broken on a job. small freckles decorated the bridge of your nose, and a now almost faded scar followed the curve of your cheekbone.

"you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.

you faltered slightly. you and tangerine were friends. any compliments thrown each other's way was typically about work. you often worked with the twins on jobs so the three of you were close. the dynamics on and off the job the three of you had was truly incredible. many people wanted the trio because they knew the job would be a success, most likely bloody, but still successful.

to even try and deny the fact that tangerine is gorgeous was absolutely ridiculous. when you first saw him, you truly went breathless for a moment. there was no way this man was in the business of killing was one of your first thoughts, he had to be a model of some sort. and as if his looks weren't enough, when he wasn't being a complete dickhead, he had the most charming and witty personality. it was intimidating being around him most times, the feeling of insecurity often loomed around you when he was nearby.

you looked him in the eye before averting your attention to his split lip, "why didn't you go home?"

"found myself wandering this way," he said slipping off the counter.

"bit far from your house," you whispered in return. tangerine brushed a strand of hair out of your eye, his thumb running over your cheek.

"no distance is too far for you, darlin'."

you aren't quite sure where these confessions were coming from, but you would be a fool to say you hated it. it was obvious how you felt about tangerine. you knew it, he knew it, lemon knew it, damn near everyone knew it.

"i didn't know you could be a sap," you gave him a slight smirk.

his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "today was too risky, thought i could solo it, make some extra money. it was stupid. all i could think about was you," he confessed.

you toyed with the gold chain hanging on his exposed chest before gently tugging on it, bringing him to you. the kiss was soft but long. in the midst of the kiss tangerine had placed you on the counter, finding home between your legs and holding your waist carefully. your hands situated on the base of his skull tugging ever so slightly on his hair. tangerine's mouth parted slightly in reaction allowing you to bite gently on his lip, ignoring the fact you can taste blood. with a sigh you both finally pulled apart. his hands never left your waist.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you said.

tangerine wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, ignoring all the aches from today's job. 'i've waited months to hear these words,' he had muttered in your hair making his way through your house.

"i've waited just as long."

[queers-gambit]

Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.1k+

note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?

warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.

The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."

You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "

"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."

"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."

"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."

"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."

"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."

"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"

"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"

"From Paris last month," you chuckled.

"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"

You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."

"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "

"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"

"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."

"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"

His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"

"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "

"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."

"Good, you better."

"But in case, call Brian - "

"Aaron!"

He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"

"Maybe on less important days."

"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."

"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."

"I always am."

"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "

"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"

"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."

"Again, the Ladybug twat."

"Potato, po-ta-toe."

Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good without me?"

"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."

"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.

"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.

Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.

The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.

So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.

Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.

Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.

You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.

Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.

"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"

"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."

"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."

"Thank you," she sighed.

Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "

"It's Toby."

You blinked, "Huh?"

"Name's Toby," he explained.

"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.

After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"

"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."

Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"

"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"

"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."

"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."

"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."

"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."

"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"

Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.

You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."

"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.

"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"

You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."

"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."

"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.

To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.

"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.

"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."

"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.

Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"

"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."

"Why should we even bother?"

"Because he's important to me!"

"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.

"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "

"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"

"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."

"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.

"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.

"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "

"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"

"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"

"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.

"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "

The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.

However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"

"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.

Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.

These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.

"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "

"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"

Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.

You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."

"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"

"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."

The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.

Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"

"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.

You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.

But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.

The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."

You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.

"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."

"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."

"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."

"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.

Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.

"Go to hell!" You hissed.

"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."

You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.

"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.

You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."

Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.

He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.

"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.

Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"

"A-Aaron?"

"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"

"Th-There's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "

"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"

"We can't just - "

"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"

He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"

"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"

Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.

Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?

Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.

Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."

When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.

"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"

Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"

"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"

Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "

"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."

"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."

You sniffled, "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "

"A what?" John asked incredulously.

"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"

"I know what it is - but why go?"

"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"

"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."

Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "

Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"

"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."

"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"

Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.

"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"

"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"

"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.

"I'm not your mate."

"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "

"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."

Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"

Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"

Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"

Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.

"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.

"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"

You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.

"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.

"Okay," you whispered with a nod.

Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Not your fault."

"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."

"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"

"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "

"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."

"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.

"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"

Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."

"They wanna kill her?"

"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."

"How?"

"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."

You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."

"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"

You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.

"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.

"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"

"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.

"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."

Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."

"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"

"Yeah."

"She should eat with it..."

"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"

"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."

"Who?"

"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"

"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.

"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."

"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"

"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."

"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"

Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."

Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."

"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"

"Mhm."

"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."

Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."

"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."

"And before that?"

"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."

"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."

"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.

"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."

"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.

"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"

"Mhm."

"That pain pill kicking in yet?"

"Not yet," you yawned.

"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."

"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.

The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "

"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.

Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.

"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "

"Fuck off," Tan snapped.

"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."

"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.

"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"

"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."

"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"

"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.

"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.

"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"

"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.

"R&R or mandatory?"

"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."

"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.

"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."

"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"

"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."

"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"

"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."

Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.

The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"

You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.

"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."

"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"

"What?" Kiwi asked.

"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"

"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."

"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."

It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.

"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.

Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.

Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.

"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."

He smirked, "I covered for yah."

"How?"

"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."

"Oh, that's never good."

"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."

"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"

"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"

You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"

"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."

"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."

He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."

"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"

"As quick as I can," he swore.

You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.

She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"

"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."

Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."

"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"

"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.

The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.

However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."

Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.

People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.

In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"

The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.

"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"

Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"

"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.

The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.

"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.

Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.

Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.

The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.

Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.

Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."

"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"

"Didn't get shit - "

"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"

Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.

"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"

"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"

"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"

"She's the one who hired us, mate!"

"Liar!"

Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.

Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.

At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.

"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."

"Handle what? What's going on?"

"They're here."

"A-Are we safe?"

"For now."

"Are the lads!?"

"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."

You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.

Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.

When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!

"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."

"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"

"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"

"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.

"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."

"And Brian?"

"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."

You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.

There was nowhere you were safer.

Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[ichorai]

apple pies & break-ins ; tangerine.

pairing ; tangerine x assassin!spouse!reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; tangerine comes back home just as you're about to leave.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; pure fluff, mild comedy, established relationship (married), assassin au

warnings / includes ; blood/injuries/weapons, slightly suggestive, tangerine has a potty mouth, lemon cameo, tangerine being clingy and sappy

main masterlist.

The entire house smelled of cinnamon, apples, and buttery pie crust. You sliced up another apple, taking care to carve out its core, before tossing it in the sugar syrup and popping the chopped pieces of fruit into the crust to bake in the oven. As soon as you bumped the door shut with your hip, the front door creaked open, followed by a familiar jangling of keys. 

You glanced up with a warm smile, glad that your husband was finally home—except it was quick to melt away when you took in his disheveled appearance. There was blood all over him, dribbling down his hairline, splattered over his neck, staining his once-pristine clothes. 

Despite his haggard state, he sent you a tired beam, his mustache twitching with the smile. 

“‘Ello, love,” he greeted, making his way to you behind the kitchen counter. “Close your mouth, darlin’, you’ll catch flies.” With a cheeky smirk, he slotted a finger beneath your chin, effectively snapping your lips shut. He mildly winced when he noticed he accidentally left a faint print of sticky blood on your jaw, but wisely decided not to tell you.

You fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “Jesus, Tan. Is that your blood?”

“Not sure, honestly. It’s coming from all over—some of it’s bound to be mine. Don’t worry about me, love. I’m fuckin’ peachy. Speaking of, it smells really good in here. You bakin’ something for me, darling? I’m flattered,” he hummed, leaning forward to kiss you. 

Before he could, you ducked away from him, pushing his face to the side with a wrinkled nose. “Ugh, go shower first, you’re getting blood everywhere! To be honest, I would’ve felt better knowing it was yours.”

“Ouch,” he murmured, though his grin still lingered by the corner of his mouth. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

Relenting, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his unsuspecting lips. “There. You happy?”

“Very. Thanks, love.” He sent you a playful wink before slinking off to the bathroom, whistling a peppy tune under his breath on the way. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, before turning to clean up the mess of flour and sugar and apple cores you’d made on the kitchen counter.

When your husband finally slunk out of the bathroom, a thick white towel hanging low around his waist and another ruffling at his damp curls, he made his way back into the kitchen.

“Put on some clothes, Tan,” you scoffed when he pressed against you from behind, sprinkling a bit of cinnamon sugar on the apple pie you had just taken out of the oven. 

“Hm, you don’t like me like this?” he queried, verging on a whine since you weren’t paying him the least bit of attention. “Naked and at your disposal?”

Amused, you finally turned around in his arms, trapped between him and the counter. The blue of his eyes were hooded and lustful, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. You, however, smiled sweetly at him. “You’re not naked.”

“Well, that can easily be remedied—”

Before he could reach down to undo the towel around his waist, you stopped him with your hands gripping both his wrists, quirking your brows. “As much as I’d love to, I have to call in for a job soon. I’m running late already. I was baking the pie for you in case you got back while I was gone.”

“Another job?” asked Tangerine, clearly upset at the turn of events. “Can’t you call off? I’m sure they can send another bloody assassin to do their dirty work.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before gently pushing him away so you could head off to your shared bedroom and get changed. To none of your surprise, your husband trailed along behind you like a sullen puppy. “It’s a lot of money, baby. Don’t think I could afford to keep skipping jobs just to laze around with you.”

With a disappointed grumble, Tangerine wrapped his arms around you from behind again, squeezing tightly and kissing down your neck. “How long will this one take?”

“I’ll be back tonight,” you reassured him. “Tomorrow at the very latest.”

“Alright,” he acquiesced, though not without a loud sigh. He sat down on the bed, watching as you shirked off your flour-covered shirt in favor of a dark button-up. “You remember how we first met?”

Of course you did. You remembered it as if it was yesterday. You crossed your arms, stepping in between his legs by the edge of the bed. Both of his hands went to your waist, fingers curling over your back and absentmindedly tracing loose shapes on your sides. 

Looking up at you, he spoke between pressing soft kisses along your abdomen, over the black shirt you had donned, “I was on a mission with Lemon in Madrid… and we were in a tight situation. Bullets flying everywhere, my leg fucked up, and my gun jammed. Then, whaddya know, the most beautiful fuckin’ person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon comes flying through one o’ the windows. Took out three people with one knife, and took out another four with a bloody crossbow. You looked at me, covered in blood, and asked if I was alright. I told you that you were fucking gorgeous—and then you fell in love with me, right on the spot, and the rest is history.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter. “Hm, that’s not how I remember it. Need I remind you that I shoved you to the side because you kept getting in my way, asking if I’d like to have dinner with you? Gods, Tan, you were a pain in my ass. And your brother was laughing at you.”

“Cunt,” he grumbled at the mention of his brother. “Well, even if you didn’t fall in love with me right then and there—I did. I knew I had to be yours from the moment I saw you.”

You lowered yourself to a crouch, cupping his face and caught his lips in a feverish kiss. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his. “Are you telling me this because you want me to stay?”

A sheepish grin tugged at the corner of Tangerine’s lips. “Is it working?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You pulled away, slinging a packed bag over your shoulder and heading out the bedroom. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Love you.”

“Wait! You said you’d come back tonight!”

True to your word, you had returned home at midnight, stumbling through the door tired and weary. Thankfully, you weren’t too banged up, just a scratch on your shoulder from the graze of a bullet that you managed to patch yourself before coming back. You were greeted with Tangerine dozing on the couch, a shitty reality show glowing on the television screen, with the half-eaten apple pie on the coffee table in front. He startled awake when you flicked his cheek with a smile.

“Hey, sleepy,” you said, dipping down to kiss his forehead, sauntering towards your bedroom to get changed.

As expected, your husband scurried off the couch to follow after you, gathering you into his arms and kissing you deeply. “I missed you,” he murmured, accent thick and lilting.

“Come on, I wanna get to sleep,” you said, tugging him to the bed with a muffled yawn.

In no time, he was curled up behind you, his large arm thrown over your waist and hand splayed out over your stomach. His nose was buried into the back of your head, unable to wipe the pleased smile off of his features.

It was relatively easy to drift to sleep, given how exhausted the two of you already were.

Not even three hours later, with the two of you already deep in slumber, there came a loud crashing from the front of the house. Someone was breaking in.

Immediately, you sat up in the bed, slipping out from beneath Tangerine’s heavy arms and the blanket. The cold air kissed your bare skin, sending a shiver spidering up your spine. You reached beneath your pillow to brandish a small emergency dagger you kept between the mattress and the headboard. Your husband also startled awake at the loud sound, eyes tired yet wide, grappling for a gun he kept beneath the bed.

“Stay in here,” he whispered, striding forward to the bedroom door, left slightly ajar.

“Like hell I am,” you quietly gruffed back, hot on his heels.

Knowing that there was no stopping you, Tangerine blew out a breath and the both of you crept closer, light on your feet. With no warning, Tan shouldered the door open and stepped out in one fluid motion, lining the gun up with the intruder.

A second later, he immediately lowered the weapon with a long string of exasperated curses. You peered over his shoulder, tense muscles loosening upon seeing Tangerine’s brother, Lemon, frozen in front of the broken window. His lips were twisted into a grimace and his eyes were as wide as saucers. There were shards of glass glimmering in his dark hair.

“What the fuck, man?” your husband erupted, immediately clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it into the waistband of his sweats. “Are you daft? The fuck did you break my window for?”

“I was looking for you! Never heard a peep from you two after your missions. I just assumed the worst!” he exclaimed. For a moment, Lemon’s dark eyes flickered to you. “Hi, Y/N. Look lovely, by the way.”

You crossed your arms, more amused than anything. “Hey, Lemon.” 

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ call us, then? Bloody fucking idiot! Going down and breaking my window like that,” he angrily muttered, stomping forward to inspect the damage. “You’re paying for this, you twat.”

Rearing back, Lemon snarled, “Oi! I did call you! Didn’t answer your phones, the neither of you. I thought something happened! Forgive me for worrying about my brother and my in-law!”

“The fuck you mean, I would get the fucking notification if you called me!” Tangerine hissed back, pressing the heels of his palms into his sleepy eyes. After a second, he reached down into his pocket, fishing out his phone. He pressed the power button once, then twice. A third time for good measure. “Well, fuck me. It’s dead.”

You hid a smile behind your palm. You married a complete, hot-headed idiot. With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you wiggled your fingers farewell and swiftly turned, yawning as you dragged yourself back into the room. “I’m going back to bed. You two behave yourselves.”

Both of them grunted goodbyes at your departure, before immediately carrying on with their arguments.

“Why didn’t you just call Y/N?”

A long pause. Lemon's eye twitched. “Didn’t think of that, to be honest with you… What are you, a fucking halfwit? Of course I called Y/N!”

"Oh, right, yeah, Y/N does put their phone on DND before bed. Right."

"Right."

Frowning, Tangerine barked out, “Still, you’re a fuckin’ idiot, you know that? I could’ve shot you!”

“Alright, alright, calm your tits. D’you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

“What, are you bloody mental?” Another pause. “Alright, fine. Just take your shoes off. Don’t want you tracking mud all over the place.”

Half an hour later, Tangerine crawled back into bed, settling himself behind you. You had fallen asleep already, but shifted with a pleasant hum when he pressed a ticklish kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Love you,” he whispered, tugging you closer to his chest. You drowsily murmured something incoherent in response, and Tangerine contentedly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ways TANGERINE stays sentimental, while protecting his love’s identity:

credits to @everythingisspokenfortbh for the idea, and expanding on it with me. post is here <3

gn!reader, <500 words

tangerine is sometimes too protective, like the near overbearing kind. it's not because he's controlling or tyrannical or domineering —though it may feel like that— instead his obsessive need to keep you safe, came from a far more loving place. vulnerable, even. 

he knew his line of work was not safe. and not only does he put himself in great depths of danger, but he also puts those he loves in that same chasm of the unknown. that includes you.

when it came to picking wedding rings, he wanted to steer far from the traditional bands that each of you would have upon your left hand, instead opting for something more secret. 

so, on your special day at the altar, rather than exchanging rings, you gave necklaces - each complimenting the other, not completing another: charms with the sun and the moon. tangerine had gold to match the rest of his jewellery, and you had silver. the sun worked best with gold like the moon did with silver. but tangerine is not a sun person. so to get around that issue, you brought up a suggestion, saying that you should wear each other's charm. 

since your special day, each of you have been wearing your promises around your necks, the pendant of your lover there as a reminder. not for others, but for you. the meaning of the necklace was for the two of you only. no one else knew.

and during those weeks when he leaves for work, you would swap necklaces - giving the other a piece to remember. tangerine would wear yours like a lucky charm, the pendant offering him safety, while his would offer you comfort. 

tangerine is sentimental, and you'd have a hard time trying to convince someone that he is. he keeps his love hidden and protected, the feeling only to be expressed with those he values most. and to keep with the theme of your protection, he finds ways to show his love without putting you in harm's way.

when it came to honouring special dates between you, he liked to remember them with tattoos. he'd get small and meaningful drawings inked into his body to secretly showcase his love for you. 

over the years, he accumulated an array of tiny momentos declaring his love - ranging from an outline of the country you met to a sketch of your favourite planet all the way to the moon phase on the night of your wedding. to an unknown eye, these tattoos would look like little random doodles. but not to tangerine, and not to you. these inked images are snippets of proof that show the love and sentiment of your heartless, cold assassin of a lover.

everything he does, he does it for you.

ALSO BTW my cat has a similar moon charm that we were talking about AHH!?

[fooled-around-and-fell]

Marks

Summary: Tangerine is reminded of the times you got hurt because of him, and the guilt is eating him alive.

Genre: angst, fluff

warnings: scars, very little smut, p in v (wrap it before ya tap it)

a/n: welcome to the list, Tangerine 🧡

Masterlist

-----

Tan is finally home after a week of being gone. He's finally here, and not just the lingering smell of when he last slept next to you. He's here, holding you close to him as your skin touches his.

There's no urgency, no rush. He's telling you that he's home, and he's staying for a long, long time. He peppers kisses on your neck, nipping and almost leaving a hickey, but stops cause he knows you have to work tomorrow.

Surprisingly, you pull him closer, urging him to keep going.

"Babe?"

"I'll wear a turtle neck."

Chuckling, he happily obliges and begins sucking on your flesh, his thrusts getting rougher at the same time. "So sweet."

"Tan," you moan out his name, legs locking behind him when he hits that spot. His thrusts get more erratic, and when he feels you coming around him, he spills inside you. He moans when you're still squeezing him.

"I've missed you." You chuckle.

"Sweetheart, you've no idea." He kisses you before pulling out and getting a towel to clean you up.

He sees you lying down on your stomach, slowly falling asleep, and he smiles, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. But then he sees the scars you have, ones that you got because of him.

The scar on your hip from when someone sliced you with a knife because you tried to get away from their grip, the one from an explosion, and that other one from when someone broke into your home to get revenge on Tan.

Suddenly he feels more disgusted with himself rather than lucky. No, he's still lucky, lucky because, despite everything that happened, you're still with him. Why is that? What did he do to deserve this?

If anything, you deserve so much more. At the least someone whose job isn't going to endanger you. The fact that you keep getting hurt because of him... Tan's mouth goes dry, and he doesn't know what to do.

"Tan? What's wrong?"

He hears your soft, sleepy voice. How can someone so kind, so perfect, be so nice to him? How can someone like you like- no, love him?

But he's not about to pour out his worries onto you. Not when he knows you're just going to assure him it's not his fault and that you still love him. He doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that.

Without saying a word, he climbs into bed, spooning you. He's holding you extra tight, swearing to God that he's going to try his best to not let anyone hurt you ever again. Not even himself.

"I love you." He whispers.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and you mutter an "I love you too" before falling asleep.

-----

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling cold, and when you turn around to find Tan, you see him sitting on the bed instead, head in his hands.

"Tan?" You called out to him, caressing his back. "Everything okay?"

You know this happens -- it has happened before. Tan sometimes gets nightmares, and he'll just sit in silence for a while before returning to bed. He never wants to wake you.

"Y-yeah." He's taken aback. "Sorry, love, did I wake you?"

"No, not at all." You answer, searching for his eyes. "I was just cold."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

He doesn't answer but still accepts your invitation to go back to bed, burying his head in the crook of your neck and letting you cradle his figure.

He hugs your waist, and his grip tightens when he feels the scar on your hip. That's when you know what he's thinking about.

You kiss his forehead, "it's not your fault, Tan."

His jaw clenches and he buries his head deeper into your neck, if that's even possible. Tan doesn't answer, and you figure he must not want to talk about it.

Mindlessly, you start playing with his dark curls and suddenly you feel something wet against your skin. You realize Tan is crying.

"Hey." You pull away a little, wanting to look at him but he avoids your gaze, looking down like a kid in trouble. It's a little cute, you're not gonna lie. "Baby, look at me, please?"

Tan's scared. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do. If he tells you he's sorry, does that seem like he's just saying it? If he says he won't let anyone hurt you ever again -- isn't that what he said last time? He doesn't want to give you empty promises but also doesn't want to let you go.

"Let me in that head of yours." You lift his head by his chin. "We're a team, remember? We figure things out together."

He really is the luckiest man in the world.

"I..." He starts. "I'm sorry, I can't promise people won't try to hurt you. All I can promise you is my best. I'll do my best to make you happy, keep you safe, and make sure you won't regret choosing me. And I can't thank you enough for that -- for choosing me. I don't know what I did to ever deserve you, but I will cherish and love you until the day I die. No, even after that. I'll love you in the afterlife."

"Your best and your love is more than enough." You kiss him deeply. "I love you, Tan. And though I know you won't listen to me when I tell you this, I'll tell you anyway; you did everything to deserve me, just as I deserve you."

Tan finally smiles a little. "I'm not perfect."

"And I never asked you to be. I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't want you to be. I'm not perfect either, but you know what? You love me anyway."

"And you love me anyway."

"Exactly," you smile. "These scars, I don't remember them as scars that hurt, I remember them as marks that show how much you mean to me, and how you've saved me every single time."

Tan pulls you to his chest, hugging you so tight you almost can't breathe. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tan."

[imyourbratzdoll]

Tangerine smut please?

hi! sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy this request!

summary - a handsome stranger makes you cum on the train.

warning - smut, fingering, public stuff.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

The day started off perfect, you decided to wear your new outfit that consisted of a black long sleeved shirt underneath a cropped green button up and a matching short skirt. You made yourself the perfect coffee and headed to the train station before finding the perfect seat inside. You drowned out the rest of the world, your head buried in a book. Until you are suddenly pulled out of it by three men sitting on the seats beside you, your eyes widen when you make eye contact with a very attractive man in a blue suit.

You try to ignore them by focusing on your book but their constant whispering pierce through your concentration and you nearly drop your book as you hear a voice. “Excuse me, love.” You look back up and notice the handsome man now standing over you. You can feel yourself pulse between your legs and it’s confusing because you’ve never reacted like this before. “Do you mind if I sit here? You see, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are and my brother is being a pain.” You blink, slowly nodding and sucking in a breath as he slides into the seat next to you, his scent causing you to become dizzy with lust. “Thanks, love.” 

You try to go back to your book, but you can’t and you can feel him staring at you once in a while. You begin to squirm in your seat, his thigh brushes against you causing a whimper to escape before you can stop it. Your face flushes, eyes wide and you try to hide. 

Tangerine smirks. “Do I make you nervous, love?” You ignore him, scooting closer to the window, feeling embarrassed because you want to jump him. “You know, I know something that will take those nerves away, love. Do you wanna try?” You look at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at him with wide eyes. “But you’ll have to very quiet, I wouldn’t want to punish you for being a naughty girl.” You feel yourself throb, nails digging into your palms as you hold back a whimper at his words. 

“O–okay…” Your breath hitches as his hand makes contact with your thigh, sliding up it until it disappears underneath your skirt. He leans closer to you, blocking anyone’s view of what he’s about to do to you. 

“No knickers, love? It’s like you knew you were going to be a slut today.” His fingers make contact with your clit, rubbing it nice and slow, watching you shake and whimper softly from his movements. “Good girl, you’re being nice and quiet for me.” He leans closer, sliding his fingers up and down before he begins to slowly push them inside your sopping cunt, curling them upwards, watching you struggle to keep your mouth closed. “Keep reading your book, love. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us.” Tangerine feels you squeeze around his fingers at his words, he grins. “You wanna be caught, love? Want to be caught being a naughty slut, huh?” 

You lean your head on his shoulder, shakily opening the book, unable to focus on the words as his fingers continue to thrust and curl, your hand moves to his thigh and you grip onto it, digging your nails into him as he continues to fingerfuck you. “O–oh…”

“Shh.” His moustache tickles your ear as he whispers into it. His fingers begin to hit the spongey spot deep inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back and you to arch off the chair, biting down onto your bottom lip hard enough to cause blood. Tangerine watches as you cum, juices coating his hand before you sink back down into the seat, soft whimpers escaping you. “Good girl.” He gently removes his fingers from your drenched cunt, lifting them to his mouth, eyes connecting with yours as you watch him suck the fingers that were just inside of you. 

You blink, trying to catch your breath as the man winks at you, sliding a piece of paper with his name and number on it before he stands. “Call me when you need to get off again, love.” With that, he leaves, disappearing down the train. You stare at the piece of paper, feeling yourself begin to throb again at the thought of him touching you. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[spidervee]

afterglow (tangerine x reader)

summary: tangerine finds himself falling for the girl next door (part 1/3) words: 3.1k warnings: fem!reader, lotsa swears, sexual thoughts, implied sexual situations, implied violence, implied drug use, no use of y/n, neighbours to lovers trope, tangerine's angry inner monologue is a warning all its own, lemon being the best

You’re determined to move your groceries from the boot of your car to the front porch in a single trip. Mind, there’s not more than a dozen or so steps between the two, but it’s the principle of the matter—one trip is so much more satisfying than two. However, your determination did not account for the fact that you bought a family-sized box of Cheerios, a bag of flour, and a carton of eggs along with your usual run of fruits, vegetables, and pasta. Thus, you’re more than a little off-balance as you shoulder your canvas tote bags, your body tilting dangerously toward the left as you try to close the boot with the three fingers on your right hand that remain free. You miss, staggering forward and hitting your knees against the bumper and hissing out a curse.

“You quite alright there, love?” An amused voice distracts you from the pain of what will doubtlessly become a tender spot, though the sudden realisation that you have an audience is horrible, embarrassment flooding through you as you straighten up and try to look composed. 

“Brilliant,” you call back, refusing to look at the man you know is watching you. It’s the bloke next door, on the right, the tall one with the blue eyes and the weirdly retro moustache and the suits that look far too expensive for this neighbourhood. 

You’ve never exchanged more than a few words at a time with him, only interacting when necessary—the time a package of his got delivered to your porch, the time your cat climbed the drooping branches of the willow tree in his yard, and the time he’d nearly run you over with his car during your morning run. Admittedly, that last time had been rather terse, though it hadn’t stopped the minimal pleasantries neighbours were meant to exchange. The two of you still nodded politely at one another if you happened to cross paths. Sometimes you’d give a wave that he would return with a slightly more emphatic nod than his usual. 

So, it surprises you when he starts down his drive toward yours, flicking away the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips moments earlier. You try to hastily correct yourself, balance your posture, rearrange your bags so that you don’t look so helplessly overwhelmed, but his legs are too long and he’s by your side in just a few strides, helping you shrug off one of the totes, and then another. 

“Gonna break your bloody back,” he mutters, tone disapproving as he lifts the bags effortlessly in one hand and carries them to your front door. 

“I was managing,” you say sharply, embarrassment getting the best of you. He snorts, a derisive noise that only seeks to send your guard up even further, a scowl writing itself across your face. “I was!” 

“A simple thank you is all I need, love.” He turns to face you with those dazzling blue eyes and your throat feels suddenly dry, your body pinned under his stare. You want to protest, to underscore the fact that you’ve unloaded your groceries alone more than a hundred times and his little show of chivalry was entirely unnecessary. 

But all you can do is swallow, watching as his tattooed hands pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his tailored trousers. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. A grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he lights his cigarette and presses it between his lips. With a nod, he’s heading down your steps and back to his own porch, not another word exchanged between the two of you. 

You can’t stop thinking about him, damn it. Three days later and you’re still remembering the way his eyes danced over you, somehow appraising and appreciative all at once. You think you want to see more of him, feel his hands, that moustache scratching along the inside of your thighs. 

Maybe it’s been a while since you got laid. 

Because you shouldn’t be having these thoughts about the bloke next door—he’s definitely dodgy. He keeps odd hours and disappears for questionable stretches of time. He only ever has one visitor, a friendly bloke, sure, but almost as dodgy, driving a different car nearly every month. And you’re fairly certain you once saw him coming home with blood spattered on his crisp white shirt—not that you were watching, no, you’d just happened to be bringing in the shopping at the time. 

Still, when you find yourself out of sugar in the middle of baking cookies for tomorrow’s fundraiser, you’re desperate. And Mrs. Barry on the left is out at her daughter’s, so you’ve no choice but to go knock on the door and ask porn-stache if he can do you a real quick favour. 

You’re not sure what’s worse. That he answers the door with a gruff “whaddaya want?” 

Or that he’s shirtless, belt buckle hanging open and trousers slung low around his hips. 

“Sugar,” you manage to squeak out. And he raises a thick eyebrow at you, amused. 

“Right, sorry,” he grins, the gruffness gone in favour of something almost teasing. “Whaddaya want, sugar?”

Tangerine never gets visitors, unless he’s counting Lemon. He doesn’t count Lemon because it’s fuckin’ Lemon. There’s obligation there. Call it business. Call it brotherly love. Call it bloody codependency. 

And Lemon has a key. He never knocks. In fact, knocking is utterly fucking suspect in Tangerine’s humble opinion. It meant you were either going to open the door to the world’s dumbest fuckin’ assassin or someone was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. Or it was the lad delivering curry. But he hadn’t ordered any curry. 

So it’s not his fault, really, when he slips his gun into his back pocket before opening the door. The heft of it pulls his trousers ever so slightly more down his hips, but he’d been about to get into the shower and whoever the bastard at the door is doesn’t deserve his decency, not when they’re knocking on his fucking door like he’s invited them over for tea. 

But when he opens the door, his brow furrows immediately because there’s that sweet-looking bird from next door just stood on his bloody porch like she belongs there, eyes wide and a shy smile on her face. Tangerine takes care to puff up his chest a little bit because suddenly he’s not so terribly annoyed. 

Although the gun pressing into his tailbone is a fucking nuisance. 

There’s a plate in your hands, piled high with something that’s wrapped in aluminium, and you hold it out in his direction by way of greeting. Tangerine just looks at your offering, unaccustomed to receiving things. 

“Cookies,” you explain, “From the sugar I borrowed.” 

His brain searches for a snarky remark, a teasing word, anything to make this feel less intimate than it does because you’re standing on his porch with cookies you made for him like he’s not a bloody bastard who killed six men in Cape Town three weeks ago. But, his traitorous brain supplies nothing—not a single syllable to his suddenly parched tongue. 

So, he blinks at you, unsure what to say. His first instinct is to laugh, but he manages to suppress that and instead allows you to instead shove the plate of cookies into his hands and wave an awkward little goodbye. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, watching you walk away with the oddest sense of déja vu. But your front door has already closed behind you. 

Inside, Tangerine sets the plate aside on the corner of the counter, beside the spice rack and tucked away so he doesn’t have to think about the cookies. It’s less about the cookies themselves and more about the inkling of warmth that filled him when you graciously handed him the plate, a small smile playing on your lips like you knew they were fucking delicious. 

He has no intention of eating them. For all he knows, they’re laced with bloody poison. More likely, though, is that they’ll taste like the things he’s missing in his life and that’s so much more fucking depressing. 

He decides to shower, if for no other reason than to wash away the feelings you’ve left like electricity rippling along his skin. And, if he’s being honest, the shower is the best place for him to think about you right now. For…reasons. 

When he emerges, he’s calmer and decidedly happier…until he spies Lemon at his kitchen island, the plate of your cookies—his cookies—open in front of him. 

“Bruv, these cookies are fucking ace.” 

“No, you daft cunt don’t eat those!” 

Lemon doesn’t even pause in chewing, fixing his brother with a confused stare, eyebrows quirked. “Why the hell not?” 

“They’re…fucking hell, Lemon can’t you just listen?” Tangerine is incensed, hands wringing, “You always hafta ask a million questions like you’re the fucking coppers. Really gets on my tits, you know?”

“You’re angry,” Lemon says through a mouthful of cookie. 

“Bloody brilliant observation. Sherlock fucking Holmes over here. Call Scotland fucking Y….” 

“It’s not about the cookies.” Lemon cuts off his ranting with a well-timed observation. 

Tangerine breathes out heavily through his nose. “Sod off.” 

“Is it about a girl?” 

“Not a bloody girl.” 

“A boy?” 

“For Chrissake, Lemon we’re not in the fourth fucking grade!” 

“It’s that pretty little bird next door, innit?” 

“Fuck off.” 

He returns the plate with a handwritten note on a Post-It. His penmanship is nice enough, a neat if somewhat loopy cursive, telling you thank you for the cookies. It was Lemon’s fucking idea, being neighbourly and all that shite. He rings your bell, glad when you don’t answer so he can simply leave the plate on your welcome mat. 

You’re pruning roses the next time he sees you and the look of focus on your face, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, almost makes him smile—bloody fucking hell, who is he? 

Unlucky for him, you notice him and wave, shears in your raised hand so you look a bit barmy until you realise you’re waving a weapon around and quickly tuck them sheepishly behind your back. Tangerine, in a stunning display of idiocy that he will later want to smash his head into a wall over, begins to walk toward you. Like you’re a goddamn magnet. No, stronger than that. The sunshine around which the fucking earth of his own body has begun to orbit. Gravity makes no fucking sense anymore because if it did he would not be falling for the cute smile you fix him with, the stunningly normal and carefree way you adjust your sunhat and point out that your climbing roses are almost taller than you; the manner in which you wrinkle your nose at him and inform him—as if he doesn’t fucking know—that you don’t even know his name. 

He gives you the name on his most recent fake ID, Andrew—a perfectly nice and proper name, but then shakes his head. “Mates just call me Tangerine,” he tells you, neglecting to say that his enemies call him that as well, along with some choice other words.

“Tangerine?” More nose wrinkling and Tangerine is ready to take his own knees out with a billy club because they’re getting weaker by the fucking second standing here with you. 

“It’s a footie thing,” he lies, “That bloke you see coming and going is Lemon. He plays goal” 

“You play football?” 

More lies. More small talk. Until Lemon’s car pulls up and Tangerine is torn between relieved to see his brother and wanting to throw him off the fucking face of the earth. He tells you he best be going. You nod, holding out your hand, encased as it is in thick gardening gloves up to the elbow. 

“It was nice to meet you, Tang—oh! Sorry, is it just a footie thing?”

He takes your proffered hand and gives it a small squeeze. “No, love, you can call me whatever you’d like.” 

It’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning as seemingly every embarrassing childhood moment comes back to haunt you from the depths of your mind. Since your bedroom is no refuge and you don’t particularly feel like catching anything on the telly, you seek a moment of solace on the porch, wondering if maybe, for once, the stars are out. 

But the only light, aside from the artificial yellow of the streetlamps, is the low glow of cigarette embers on Tangerine’s porch and you narrow your eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his figure in the shadowy night. 

“Can’t sleep, love?” His voice rings through the silence and you take it as an invitation to walk over and join him. 

“One of those nights, I guess.” You shrug as you drop down onto the porch swing next to him. It’s an oddly homey thing to have there, you think, for a man who is not always home. Tangerine makes a noise of agreement in his throat. He’s familiar with those nights, has them every so often when his birthday is coming up and those incessant thoughts about what he’s done with his life start to creep up on him. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your head drops to the side, landing on his shoulder. If Tangerine is surprised by the contact, he doesn’t show it, remaining still other than the slight shift to accommodate you. 

There, on his porch, in the summer heat, you fall asleep against Tangerine, leaving him to glance up at the starless sky in askance because it all feels alarmingly normal and he doesn’t hate it.  

There’s screaming on the lawn. Not his lawn, so he shouldn’t really get involved, but the angry voice of a man calls out your name and his ears perk up, less out of interest and more out of a sudden desire to murder any bastard who dares raise his voice at you. 

Quietly, Tangerine slips out his front door to see what’s unfolding. You’re stood on your porch, arms crossed over your chest in defiance. There’s a man on the lawn, consumed by rage by the looks of it, and Tangerine contemplates popping inside to grab his gun.

“You stupid bitch!” 

“Get the fuck out.” Your voice is hard and Tangerine feels a stitch of pride at how stoic and unaffected you look by the absolute meltdown happening ten feet in front of you. But then, the man threatens to kill you and Tangerine is across his yard faster than he’s ever moved before, his fingers wrapped tightly around this fucking bloke’s wrist, staying him.  

“I think fucking not, mate,” Tangerine’s voice is low and threatening. “You touch her and I will cut every fucking one of your fingers off then shove them up your bastard arse before I fucking kill you. You don’t even fucking look at her. Tuck you tail between your legs and get the fuck out of here before you make me do something I’m gonna have too much fun doing to fucking regret.” 

It all happens quickly after that. The man shrugs Tangerine off, curses at him, looks about to pick a fight but must see the seasoned glint of violence in his blue eyes because he curses again and leaves in the car that’s been idling in front of your house the entire time. 

Tangerine turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow and he knows it’s a stupid fucking thing to say but he goes ahead and says it anyways because he can’t fucking help himself. “Didn’t mention you had a boyfriend, love.” 

To his surprise, you laugh. Loud. Heartily. It almost makes the tears that have welled up in your eyes disappear, but he can still see them. “That wanker was not my boyfriend.” When he looks at you, silently giving you space to continue, you sigh. “Brother,” you clarify, “He stops by once in a while for money.” 

Tangerine nods and you step into the front door, leaving it ajar for him to follow. “I’m making some tea,” you call over your shoulder, “Care to join me?” 

After that, he starts stopping in regularly. 

At first it’s just tea, sipped across from one another at the small glass table in your breakfast nook. Tangerine greets your cat, settles into his seat, talks about the latest book he’s reading. You try not to smile too big when Shelley, the cat in question, curls up on Tangerine’s lap, nor when he pretends to be cross about fur on his expensive pants. You pour the tea, respond in kind about the things you’re reading, complain a little bit about work and eventually, because he doesn’t offer the information freely, ask what it is he does for a living. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but when, with zero hesitation, he tells you he’s a banker you’re a little surprised. 

Soon, tea turns into suppers spent with your feet kicked up on the coffee table, plates balanced on laps—much to Shelley’s dismay as it means Tangerine’s legs are unavailable for snuggling.

You find yourself growing fonder of this man who has carved his way into your heart, made a place for himself amongst the fixtures of your home. He’s got sharp edges, certainly, yet you can’t help but to get caught on them, snagged on the roughness of him. 

After six or seven or eight dinners—you’ve lost count—you realise you want more. You don’t want to say goodbye to him only to retreat to your empty bed and thoughts of his hands and his lips. So when he says he ought to be going, you take a leap of faith. 

“Wait,” you whisper, gathering your nerve, hoping you haven’t grossly misjudged the situation. “Stay?” You voice quivers on the word, makes you sound uncertain, so you steel your nerves and try again. “I want you to stay.” 

It’s the first time you’ve seen Tangerine look flummoxed, look anything less than totally and completely sure of himself. He leans in slightly, clasps his hand over where you’re still holding his arm. “Love,” his voice is low, so dangerously low you might just fall into him straining to hear, “If I stay…” 

His words trail off, but you know what he’s implying. If he stays then you’ve crossed a line there’s no uncrossing. If he stays, he’ll want all of you that you’re willing to give. If he stays, he’ll absolutely ruin you for anyone who might come after him. 

“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your forehead to his. 

So he does. 

[nocturnest]

Heyyy. Could u do tan x reader where they are like partner in crime and they get on really well and tan kinda just has a soft spot for them. Like they are in mission briefing and reader makes a point, tan is jumping on the idea, reader needs a breather outside for a min whilst on a mission, tan is going with her and he just likes being in her presence. They are both a bit oblivious with each other so its a hard watch for lemon and ladybug (maybe maria too :) ). And tan is affectionate but in his own way like 'saw this and thought you might like it but idc if u dont'. Hes always got her back but in a subtle way but it's not so subtle for lemon bcus he knows his brother and he knows hes whipped. Really hope u can do this and hope it wasn't complicated :))))

Hello, lovely! Thank you for this wonderful idea - it's no at all too complicated. I appreciate how much detail you included because I'm still relatively new at this and it's only my second fic so I hope that you enjoy and feel free to send more requests if this meets your liking! ~

Partners in Crime

In a dimly lit hotel suite, Tangerine and Lemon are sat beside you, their expressions serious as they review the dossier spread out on the table. The air was thick with anticipation, tension coiling in the pit of your stomach as you read through the details of the mission.

Lemon had been shot in the leg during the Twins' last mission, so they called you in as the unofficial third of the fruits.

You scan through the document as thoroughly as you can but you find it difficult with Tangerine's gaze on you. You look up briefly and meet his eyes. His piercing blue eyes seem to bore into your soul, and for a moment, you find it hard to concentrate as a rush of warmth floods your cheeks.

Feeling his intense stare, you glance up briefly, meeting Tangerine's eyes. There's a flicker of something in his expression – a mix of concern and reassurance – that sends a shiver down your spine. Despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you silently acknowledge the unspoken connection between you. You swear that you see a small smile creeping up on his face.

Clearing your throat and desperate to focus, you return your focus to the dossier, determined to push aside any distractions and focus on the task at hand. You dissect the details of the mission methodically, your mind racing as you strategize the best course of action.

"It's the usual," Lemon remarked, "You corner the target, retrieve the files, and get the fuck out of there."

As Lemon spoke, you couldn't help but notice the knowing smirk that played at the corners of his lips. It was clear that he had picked up on the subtle dynamic between you and Tangerine, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment at being caught in the act.

Tangerine's gaze flickered between you and Lemon, his expression unreadable as he considered the plan laid out before him. Finally, he spoke up, his voice low and measured.

"So, how are we going to go about this?"

You have an idea but you're hesitant.

"Well - um... We could always pose as a couple. Raises less suspicion if we're talking amongst ourselves. Only if you want to of course..."

You pause for confirmation, nervous as all hell.

Tangerine's gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression thoughtful as he considered your suggestion. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach, unsure of how he would respond to your proposal.

After what felt like an eternity, Tangerine finally nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I think that's a great idea. It's a lot easier to blend in when we're not drawing attention to ourselves."

Relief washed over you at his approval, and you couldn't help but return his smile with one of your own. "Great, I'm glad you agree," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

Lemon clasps his hands together and sighs, "Well - now that that's settled, I'm going to get some fucking beauty sleep. My leg's been killing me."

As Lemon announced his departure, you couldn't help but chuckle at his gruff demeanor. "Alright, Lemon. Get some rest. We'll handle the rest of the planning."

With a nod, Lemon headed towards the door, casting a final glance over his shoulder. "Don't stay up too late, you two. We've got a big day ahead of us."

Once Lemon had left the room, you turned your attention back to Tangerine, a sense of anticipation bubbling within you.

Once Lemon had left the room, leaving you and Tangerine alone, a mischievous glint danced in Tangerine's eyes. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Well, well, well, looks like it's just you and me now," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile at his antics. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you're going to start with the jokes now."

Tangerine chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it, love... for now," he replied, winking playfully.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a serious demeanor, you couldn't help but laugh at Tangerine's lighthearted teasing. There was something about his playful nature that always managed to brighten your mood, even in the midst of a tense situation.

As you and Tangerine settled back into your planning, the atmosphere in the room was lighter, and you couldn't help but feel more drawn to Tangerine with each passing minute spent with him.

But as the night wore on, exhaustion began to catch up with both of you. The weight of the mission and the hours of planning took their toll, and soon you noticed Tangerine's eyelids growing heavy, his head nodding forward ever so slightly.

With a soft chuckle, you reached out and gently nudged him, a fond smile playing at your lips. "Looks like someone's ready for bed," you teased, your voice laced with affection.

Tangerine blinked owlishly, his gaze momentarily unfocused before he shook his head slightly, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "I'm fine, just... resting my eyes," he mumbled, his words slurring slightly.

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his feeble attempt to deny his fatigue. "Sure you are, Tangerine," you replied teasingly, reaching out to gently pat his arm. "Why don't you take a break? We can pick this up in the morning."

With a reluctant nod, Tangerine acquiesced, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes. Just as you begin to stand up, his eyes gently flutter open and he reaches for your hand lazily.

"Stay?"

As Tangerine's eyes fluttered open and he reached out for your hand, a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His vulnerability in that moment tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't bring yourself to deny his request.

"Of course, Tangerine," you replied softly, settling back into your seat beside him. You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple gesture of connection.

Tangerine's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gentle, comforting motion. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a small smile, you leaned your head against his shoulder, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his presence. The weight of the mission and the exhaustion of the night melted away in that moment, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the two of you together.

Before long, the rhythmic sound of his breathing filled the room, a peaceful reminder of the trust and camaraderie that existed between you.

You sighed, and before you even realized it, you were reaching out to brush a stray curl from Tangerine's forehead, your touch feather-light against his skin. He looked so peaceful, so angelic. The tension between his brows had disappeared. You noticed how close the two of you were, how you could easily reach over and -

Oh, no. You were utterly and horrendously fucked.

~ The pulsating rhythm of the music filled the air as you entered the room. Feeling your nervousness, Tangerine placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

You look up to him hesitantly and a smile appears beneath his mustache.

“Don’t worry, love. Just keep up that beautiful smile of yours and everything will sort itself out.”

A light blush makes its way onto your face that you hope he can’t notice as he observes the rest of the room discreetly.

“Dance with me, will ya darlin'?” he turns to you with a grin, his voice playful yet inviting.

You grin back, “It would be my pleasure.”

With a nod, you take Tangerine's hand as he leads you onto the dance floor. The music envelops you, its infectious rhythm sweeping you up in its embrace as you move together in perfect harmony.

As you dance, you can't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in Tangerine's presence. He looks charming as ever in his blue pinstriped suit. Don't get distracted, you remind yourself as you begin looking in the crowd for the target. Your eyes land on what appears to very clearly be a wealthy man. Late 60s. His hair is a myriad of white and gray hairs. He laughs boisterously around a crowd of women.

"You see 'im?"

"Yeah..."

Seemingly, the target feels your gaze and looks your way. He smirks into his drink while maintaining eye contact with you. You feel a sense of discomfort creeping in on you, but you remind yourself to keep up a front and give a shy smile back.

Tangerine's eyes dart between the two of you. "Right," he sniffs, "You know what to do. You find a way to get him into his office to give us the code to the safe, and I'll be right behind you the whole time, promise." He squeezes your hand with assurance before muttering, "God forbid that fucking geezer tries anything."

And then, just as you had hoped, you found yourself face to face with the target, a charming smile gracing his lips as he extended his hand towards you.

"May I spare the lady for a dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and confident.

Tangerine's eye twitches but otherwise, he remains cool and collected, "Be my guest."

You offer the target a polite smile, your heart pounding in your chest as you accept his invitation to dance. As you move across the dance floor, you can feel Tangerine's eyes on you, his silent presence a reassuring anchor in the midst of the chaos.

The target's grip tightens on your hand, pulling you closer as he leads you in a graceful waltz. You force yourself to maintain your composure, to keep up the facade of innocence and charm as you dance with the man who holds the key to your mission's success.

But despite your best efforts, you can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the pit of your stomach. The target's gaze feels like a weight on your skin, his eyes boring into yours with a predatory intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"You're quite the stunner, you know that?"

Your eyes widen with surprise, "Oh?"

The man continues, "Oh yes! It makes me wonder what you could possibly be doing with a man like that when someone like me could offer you so much more."

You feel a chill run down your spine and hardly the good kind. The target seems to notice and perceive it as interest.

You lean in, feigning coy, "And what is it exactly that you have to offer?"

In the background, you make out Tangerine sitting at the bar. He has an unreadable look on his face and seems almost angry. Tangerine grips the whiskey in his hand tightly, his knuckles white.

As the dance comes to an end, the target leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Meet me in my office," he whispers, his voice sending a chill down your spine. "And just maybe I'll show you."

You force a smile, nodding politely as you pull away from him. "I'll be there" you reply, praying that your voice doesn't waver and thankfully it doesn't.

The man walks away giving you one last knowing glance. Your smile is already fading as the man finally turns away. You take in deep breaths but feel the room closing in on you. You're stronger than this. You've been on countless missions like this before, so how is this one any different?

You navigate your way through the dancing couples and make your way to the balcony for some fresh air.

There's a gentle breeze as you step out onto the balcony, and a sense of relief washes over you, the cool evening air providing a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of the crowded ballroom. You gaze out at the sprawling garden maze below.

The maze is bathed in soft moonlight, its intricate pathways illuminated by the glow of outdoor lanterns scattered throughout. Despite the chill in the air, the sight is enchanting, a peaceful oasis amidst the chaos of the party.

You move closer to one of the outdoor heat lamps, positioning yourself nearby to soak in its warmth. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing yourself a moment of quiet reflection amidst the whirlwind of the mission. The sound of distant laughter drifts up from the garden below, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of the heat lamp.

You hear the sound of familiar footsteps but don't open your eyes.

"Love?"

You recognize the voice immediately, and a sense of relief floods through you as you open your eyes to find Tangerine standing beside you on the balcony. His expression is unreadable, but there's a hint of concern in his piercing blue eyes.

"Tangerine," you breathe out, unable to suppress the wave of emotion that washes over you at the sight of him. His eyes are practically glowing as he stands beneath the lamp.

He steps closer to you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of distress. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal, but the concern in Tangerine's eyes urges you to speak. "I... I'm fine," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... I don't like the feeling of his grubby hands all over me."

He stills, unsure of whether to reach toward you or not. He longs to comfort you, to whisk you away from here and into the comfort of his arms, but he doesn't know how you'd react.

"I know it's tough," he says, his voice tinged with empathy. "But you're doing great. You're one of the strongest people I fucking know. And I'm not going to stand by and let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?"

Without a word, you close the distance between the two of you, and his arms envelop you in a warm and comforting embrace. You lean into his arms as he holds you close.

"Partners?" You whisper.

"Partners."

But you both seem to be wondering what if you could be more?

~

You feel more confident after speaking with Tangerine. You're good at your job - you know that. And you aren't going to let a fucking geezer get you down.

It's quiet as you and Tangerine roam through the halls of the mansion and make your way to this man's office. As you both come closer toward it, you notice two broad-shouldered guards blocking your way.

Tangerine pulls you aside into an alcove and pulls out two earpieces from his pocket.

"Here, I brought these so we can hear each other."

Tangerine reaches forward and slips the device onto your ear. The small earpiece fits snugly, the soft hum of static filling your ear as you adjust it into place.

Tangerine nods, a determined glint in his eyes as he secures his own earpiece. "Alright, let's do this fucker in," he says, his voice low and steady.

You give him one last smile, and he gives one back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Is he worried? Never mind that.

While Tangerine remains out of sight of the guards, you make your way toward the office door. One of the guards knocks, and you hear a boisterous, "Come in!"

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you push open the door and step into the office, Tangerine's voice coming through crystal clear in your earpiece.

"You've got this, love."

The target, an older man with a smug grin plastered across his face, looks up from his desk, his eyes lingering on you with unmistakable interest. "Ah, there you are," he says, gesturing for you to come closer. "I've been expecting you."

You force a polite smile, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach the desk. "Thank you for seeing me," you reply, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

The target's grin widens as he leans back in his chair, his eyes roving over you in a way that makes your skin crawl. "It's my pleasure, my dear," he says, his tone oozing with false charm. ""Now, where was I? Oh yes, you were asking what I could possibly have to offer?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his blatant attempts at flirtation, instead keeping your expression neutral as you try to steer the conversation toward the task at hand.

"I wonder," you begin, trailing your fingertips against one of the armchairs, "If a man like you doesn't have secrets that he might be hiding..."

The target looks back eagerly, eyes raking your form up and down. He nears closer to you with careful eyes, "What kinds of secrets?"

Now leaning against the armchair, you pull delicately at the hem of your dress until it reaches your thigh, "The kind that would destroy you if someone knew about them."

You hear a cough in your earpiece.

After a tense moment of silence, the target finally nods, a sly grin curling at the corners of his lips. "Very well," he says, his hands grazing the paperweight on his desk. "I just might provide you with the secret you desire. But first..."

You feel a surge of apprehension as the target's voice trails off, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. "Let's play a game! I'd like to get to know you a little better," he finishes, his tone dripping with unmistakable intent.

"Is this man on Fifty Shades of crack?," you hear Tangerine practically yell in your ear.

You can't help but stifle a nervous giggle at Tangerine's colorful commentary, his words providing a small but welcome distraction from the unsettling situation at hand.

You force a polite smile, your mind racing as you search for a way to extricate yourself from the situation without arousing suspicion. "I'm afraid I can't," you reply, your voice steady despite the unease that coils in the pit of your stomach. "I have other matters to attend to."

The target's grin falters slightly at your refusal, but he doesn't relent. Instead, he leans in closer, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint as he continues to press the issue. "Come now, my dear," he urges, his tone coaxing. "Surely you can spare a few moments for a little game. It'll be fun, I promise."

Your heart races as you feel the weight of the target's gaze bearing down on you, his proximity sending a wave of discomfort washing over you. You glance toward the door, willing yourself to remain calm despite the rising tension in the room.

Meanwhile, Tangerine's voice crackles in your ear, his frustration palpable as he listens to the exchange. "This fucking prick," he growls, his voice laced with barely contained anger. "I swear if he doesn't back off..."

He grabs you by the chin, the rest of his fingers pressing into the side of your face. "By the end of the night, I'm sure I'll have you screaming my name.

Tangerine's patience wears thin. "That fucking bastard," he snarls, his voice a low, menacing growl. "I've had enough of this bullshit. I'm comin' in."

"No - you'll blow our cover," you whisper.

The target's face shifts with confusion and surprise, "What was that?"

You hear the sounds of gunshots outside the door and the target looks up with alarm. The door slams open and Tangerine bursts in, gun drawn in his hand.

"Now here's the deal ya old fuck, you give us the fucking code and maybe I just won't shoot ya," Tangerine yells, hair falling into his eyes, veins popping.

The target seems to consider his options as he looks between you and Tangerine. Retaining what confidence he has left, the target utters, "L-Let's be civil about this, shall we?"

He's behind his desk and you notice a movement out of the corner of your eye. The target seems to be reaching for something.

You grab an extraordinarily heavy paperweight from the target's desk, consider the weight of it in your hand, and wack the target across the head with it, "Is this civil enough for you?"

He barely has time to react and goes out cold, blood seeping from the top of his head.

Tangerine looks at you with slight frustration yet amusement, "Well...now how are we goin' to get the code for the safe?"

You slowly turn towards him and grin, "He already gave it to me."

Tangerine gives a look of confusion as you make your way toward the desk, peeling a sticky note off of where the metal paperweight used to be. On it is a four-digit code.

You make your way toward the safe behind the desk, "Not quite the brightest we've encountered, eh?"

"Let's hope his lack of intelligence works in our favor," he mutters, his hand resting on the grip of his gun.

You punch in the four-digit code with practiced precision, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place echoing in the silence of the room. With a quiet creak, the safe door swings open, revealing a stack of documents neatly arranged inside.

Tangerine's eyes light up with satisfaction as he steps forward to examine the contents. "Bloody brilliant, love," he says, his voice low with excitement.

You share a triumphant grin with Tangerine as you begin to retrieve the documents from the safe, each one a piece of the puzzle that will bring down your target's operation once and for all.

~

The mission is completed successfully and a few weeks go by. You, Lemon, and Tangerine team up again and again on various missions - to Portugal, Monaco, and then Bolivia.

Between Tangerine's ranting about you and your lovestruck eyes, Lemon wasn't sure how much of this he could take much longer. He would do whatever it took to get both of your heads out of your arses to realize your feelings for one another.

And eventually, the perfect moment arrived. As the three of you found yourselves on another mission, this time in the bustling streets of Tokyo, Lemon observed something that was the last fucking straw for him.

As the three of you strolled through the vibrant streets of Tokyo, the colorful sights and sounds of the bustling outdoor market beckoned to you. Lemon couldn't help but notice the subtle glances exchanged between you and Tangerine, the way your eyes lit up with excitement at each new discovery.

When Tangerine spotted a small jewelry stall tucked away in a corner of the market, he seized the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Lemon's suspicions were confirmed when he saw Tangerine emerge a few moments later, a mischievous grin on his face and a jewel-encrusted hairclip clutched in his hand.

"Oi, what's that?" Lemon asked, eyeing the hairclip with curiosity as Tangerine presented it to you with a flourish.

"It's for you, love," Tangerine replied, his voice low as he held out the hairclip for you to admire. He stumbles over his next words, "I - I saw it and thought of you. I mean, I don't mind you don't like it, I can always - "

You cut his sentence short, "Thank you, Tangerine," you said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, your eyes sparkling with gratitude as you ran your fingers over the intricate design.

Tangerine's cheeks flushed slightly at your gesture, and Lemon felt a surge of frustration building within him. The dance you and Tangerine had going on around your feelings for each other was going to drive him mad.

"Will you help me put it on?" You ask with a shy smile. Tangerine happily obliges, delicately clasping the clip to your hair.

"Fuck me," mutters Lemon, absolutely at his wit's end.

~

You arrive at a hotel, the three of you going over your next job, a mission from the White Death, whose son has been held for ransom by some group called the Triad. You're rather tired, so you head off to your room.

Lemon, meanwhile, has just about had it.

"Enough is enough," Lemon declared, his voice firm as he turned to face Tangerine. "You need to pull your head out of your arse and confess your feelings to her, mate. It's bloody obvious to everyone but you."

Tangerine's eyes widened in surprise at Lemon's outburst, but before he could respond, Lemon held up a hand to silence him.

"I'm serious, Tangerine," Lemon continued, his tone softening slightly as he spoke. "You've been pining after her for long enough. It's time to man up and tell her how you feel."

With that, Lemon storms off, heading to his room for the night. Perhaps it is time for Tangerine to finally confess his feelings and put an end to the tension between you once and for all. But nothing can console him from being afraid of losing you and your friendship in the process.

~

Things have gone absolutely tits up a long time ago and all thanks to this blonde fucking glasses prat. First, the damn briefcase had gone missing, courtesy of him, then you had discovered the Son to be bleeding out of his eyes, probably also courtesy of him, and so now here you are, trying to keep Tangerine from blowing a gasket while he sought out this Ladybug character and became increasingly more disheveled in the process - not that you mind, of course.

You're not at all distracted by the loose strands of hair that frame his face, the ferocity behind his blue eyes, or the chest hair that creeps out from under his tight shirt. Yes you are. No - you're definitely not entranced by him at all. You're positively fucked. Especially not when he pulls you close and gives you a longing glance, muttering "Stay here, love," before violently knocking on the door to the restroom.

Ladybug opens it and chaos ensues. You're amazed by the unquenchable level of anger Tangerine seems to have toward this man. He's roughhousing him like there's no tomorrow and you'll be damned if you don't think it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen.

Their fight is interrupted as the train stewardess enters the train car. She seems very sweet yet seemingly oblivious to any of what is going on.

Tangerine is out of breath and bleeding from his nose and Ladybug isn't that far off. It's when Ladybug asks for water that Tangerine looks like he's about to lose it again. You roll your eyes at Ladybug's antics and Tangerine gives you a frustrated look that seems to say See what I have to deal with, here.

Drinking his water, Ladbug pauses, "You sure you don’t want to talk this out?

"Not particularly, no."

You throw a kettle back at Ladybug in response. It lands and he stumbles back, yelling "Ow, woman!"

You step between the both of them, gun at the ready, and exclaim, "Alright, that's enough!"

"Woah, lady!"

"Ladybug, calm down. Tangerine, stop with the fighting. We need to figure this out like civilized adults."

Tangerine glares at Ladybug, his fists clenched at his sides. "Where's the briefcase, you sneaky bastard? What did you do to the Son?"

Ladybug straightens up, adjusting his glasses nervously. "Listen, I've got the case, but I have no idea what's wrong with the kid. I didn't even know he was dead!"

You scrutinize Ladybug once more before asking, "Right, and where's the case?"

Ladybug hesitates until you point the gun in his direction, "Alright! It's in the refreshment car."

You scrutinize Ladybug once more before pulling Tangerine aside. You put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, and it seems to do something. The crazed look in his eyes calms and his breathing settles.

"I don't think Lemon was wrong. This guy might not be our Diesel."

Tangerine sighs, "I swear if you start with the Thomas references, I'm going to lose my shit - "

You smile assuredly, "Alright, no more train references. But seriously, we need to consider all possibilities here. If Ladybug didn't have anything to do with the briefcase or the Son's condition, then who did?"

Tangerine runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "I don't fucking know, but we need to focus on finding out who's behind all of this and stop them before it's too late."

You nod in agreement. "Agreed. Let's just for now until we figure out who's responsible and make them pay for what they've done. Then you can beat him up as much as you want."

Tangerine gives you a grateful look. "Thanks, love. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smile, feeling a sense of safety and closeness with Tangerine despite the chaos surrounding you. "Likewise. Now let's go find some answers."

Ladybug looks between the two of you, confused yet hopeful that he can escape your wrath. He observes your interaction with Tangerine and the way you adjust his tie subconsciously, looking at him with absolute adoration. He thinks he understands now what Lemon meant when he muttered something about his partners being "oblivious as fuck." Because Tangerine seems just as unaware of the effect you seem to have on him.

Suddenly, though, Tangerine's phone rings and the caller does not sound happy. They expect you, Lemon, and Tangerine to get your arses out of the train at the next stop with the briefcase in hand. God knows the two of you won't be able to make it to the refreshment cart in time.

After you express your worry about getting your arms cut off, Ladybug offers to pose as Lemon, and you three set off to find a briefcase.

~

You, Tangerine, and Ladybug find yourselves in front of again what Tangerine so delicately put as an "80s dance-off."

"Wow. You two do look like twins, huh?"

Tangerine tries to keep his frustration to a minimum, "Yeah, okay. We got the case, now what?"

The leader of the group retains a look of seriousness, "You still take the train to Kyoto station."

"Mm-hmm. Yeah, okay. We can do that. Wonderful."

The man pauses with a look of scrutiny, "Have you opened the case?"

"No, of course not. Do you know what? I never asked for the combination. You know what I mean? Keep it safe that way."

Ladybug joins in with a shoddy English accent, "Yeah, so no one gets greedy."

Tangering fights the urge to roll his eyes and you're trying not to burst out into laughter. That is until Ladybug starts playing with the lock on the briefcase, which opens to reveal a pile of unmentionables.

You and Tangerine exchange a look of panic and all three of you make your way back onto the train.

Ladybug looks genuinely apologetic, "I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I-I have this bad luck thing, and I hit the thing -"

"Oh, is that what you call it?

You raise your hands with frustration, "What the absolute fuck was that?"

Ladybug winces, "I was trying to sell it. I was selling it."

"Well, I don’t think they were in the market for fucking dildos and pantyhose, were they?"

Ladybug snaps his fingers, "Ah, but… They were buying it."

There's a beat of silence. Then, Ladybug tries his hand at trying to convince you and Tangerine to get off the train. He talks about wanting to visit a temple or something. Your mind's on other things, like the fact that if you don't find that damn briefcase, the White Death is going to be all but merciful.

Tangerine seems to be on the same wavelength, "It’s a bit of a conundrum, really, ’cause, you know, I’m thinking, do I hand him back in one piece or do I chop you up into little pieces and stuff you inside a fucking Momomon or not? That’s what’s going through my head right now."

"Or..."

Tangerine frowns, "Oh, what? You got a better idea, do ya?"

"You know, before us now is just a wall, but it’s an illusion, man. It’s a construct. You know, ’cause within that wall sits a window. A window of opportunity. Damn it, it’s a door. It’s… Within that wall is a door."

You blink in confusion whispering, "What the fuck..."

Tangerine rolls his eyes and gives a look that says, "Is this guy serious?"

He squints and gestures, "I’m finding it very hard to follow this story."

Something changes in Ladybug's expression, "My point is, that door is closing."

Before you can even react, Ladybug is kicking Tangerine onto the platform outside the train door, which closes before you can step out. You punch the door's window with frustration with a look of anguish, watching Tangerine's beautiful surprised and angered face pass you by, "Damn it!"

You turn backwards slowly and Ladybug's smile immediately fades upon seeing your expression. 'Cause if looks could fucking kill.

Ladybug backs away, "Listen, lady-"

"It's Peach," you growl, anger evident on your face. You approach Ladybug with your arms at the ready.

"Right. I'm sorry about your boyfriend. It's nothing personal-"

"He's not my boyfriend."

Ladybug stops himself and frowns in confusion, "Really?"

You feel your face heat up and not only with anger.

As you stride forward, fists clenched and fury ablaze, Ladybug backpedals, "You're sure?"

You land a punch on Ladybug. "Yes, goddamn it!"

"Okay, well I've got a great therapist for this sort of thing - fuck!"

You kick him in the groin.

He winces, "Ow! Working through your buried feelings of admiration might help. Maybe-"

"Shut up!"

"Maybe if you just talked to him. 'Cause I'm sure he feels the same way."

"What?"

You pause and try to conceal your surprise before shoving him against the luggage rack.

He groans in pain yet looks at you thoughtfully, "You really haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what?!" You shout, waving your arms with confusion.

"God, Lemon was right about you two. You're both oblivious as all hell," Ladybug mutters. "He's clearly in love with you."

All of a sudden, you hear a crash from the nearby train cart, where Tangerine and Ladybug had been fighting earlier.

Ladybug takes advantage of your distraction and bashes his head into yours. You falter backwards and your vision blurs. Ladybug runs off in the other direction. You hear him yell from a distance: "Just talk to him!"

"Fucking insect," you grumble, bringing your hand towards your head.

With what little balance you possess, you stumble into the adjacent train cart and spot a sight for fucking sore eyes. It's Tangerine. He's panting, bleeding, and covered in shards of glass, but you've never been so happy to see him in your life.

"Tangerine!"

You run towards him eagerly, and he looks up at you, disoriented and with curls bouncing, the gel in his hair having worn off. This man looked handsome in every state.

You help him to his feet, brushing off the pieces of glass that stick to his clothing.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?"

He looks a bit dazed at the sight of you, "I'm alright, love."

You can't help but hug him tightly, your eyes watering as you ramble. His arms wrap around your waist with just as much fervor, like he's clinging onto you for dear life.

"I thought I lost you," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

Tangerine squeezes you tightly, his warmth enveloping you like a protective shield. "I'm not going anywhere, Peach. Not without you."

You loosen your grip on him and brush the glass out of his hair. "I was about to murder Ladybug after he pushed you off the train! And he kept on talking, over and over again. About his wild ideas about you and I. Something about Lemon and us being oblivious. Oh, I don't know..."

"Go on."

You retract your hand from his hair and he seems almost disappointed at the loss of touch. "Well, it's nothing..."

There's a mischievous glint in Tangerine's eyes, but he also looks hopeful, like he's been waiting ages for what you're about to say.

"Don't keep secrets, now, darlin'," he says, calloused hands caressing your face.

You feel heat rise in your cheeks and your hands fall to his chest, his heart beating quicky under your palms, "Well, he might have said you're in love with me," you admit, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Tangerine's expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of relief and something else you can't quite place.

"I am, Peach," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been in love with you since the moment we fucking met."

God, this man... Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you like wildfire.

"I love you too, Tangerine," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

His lips meet yours fiercely and its absolute bliss. His mustache tickles your lips, but it's a nice feeling. It's familiar. It's him.

As Tangerine's lips press against yours with a fervor born of longing and passion. His hands move to cup your face, his touch gentle yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance. You revel in the taste of him, his cologne mingled with the sweat and adrenaline of the chaos around you.

His lips move hungrily against yours, his kisses growing more urgent with each passing moment as if trying to convey all the love and longing he's kept bottled up inside for so long. And you respond in kind, matching his passion with your own, your hands roaming freely over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

He presses against you and you moan with pleasure. You've wanted this man for so long. His hands trickle down your back and you feel chills. The things you want him to do to you.

As you come up for air, you gaze into his eyes, bright and passionate. Tangerine looks youthful, free almost. He has a decisive look about him, "Forget the case. We're finding Lemon and getting the fuck off this train."

He bites your earlobe and whispers, "And then I'm going to absolutely ravish you."

You giggle as he kisses you on the cheek, takes your hand, and leads you down the train. Besides the blood and disheveled look he had about him, you wouldn't have thought that he had just punched his way onto a bullet train. You thought you had lost him, and yet here you were.

Fuck the case. You two would find Lemon. You three would get off the train and find a cozy hotel. Things were going to be okay.

~

Tagged those who might be interested! Hope that's alright 🥹

@little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kino-rogers @tangerinesgf

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You never told Tangerine he has a daughter in the hopes of never seeing him again.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: swearing, single mom!reader, allusions to sex, pregnancy, kinda wanted to give Tan a real name for this story's sake but I couldn't decide on one (🙃) so let's all pretend Tangerine is an appropriate first name end not make it weird? kay? love you guys :)

~ honestly inspired by all of @little-miss-dilf-lover's dad!Tan content ~

Family is important to Tangerine. You've known this ever since you'd met him—which is why when you lay in the hospital bed, beads of sweat dampening your hairline and your mother asked you if you'd changed your mind and wanted someone to call him, prompting you to shake your head, it broke your heart almost more than it had the night he'd left. 

How could you keep her from him?

How could he leave you like he did? 

So, you raised your daughter on your own with the hopes that you'd never run into Tangerine or his brother. By Cerise's fourth birthday, there were still no signs of them and as much as you ignored how her brown curls reminded you of him and how she had his mannerisms, you couldn't deny their similarity anymore. 

"Darling, you can't have candy now, it's almost supper," you reprimand when Cerise reaches for a candy bar as you pay for your groceries and the older lady at the counter chuckles.

Cerise looks at you with an annoyed pout as she crosses her arms. You ruffle her hair, "I'm sorry, Cece," you say and kiss her forehead behind her bangs.

You're too busy with the cashier to see Cerise slip down from the cart and wander off. When you finish paying and turn to hand her a box of raspberries, your heart sinks. "Cece?" you call, turning to the old woman who doesn't know how to help you.

Your heart thumps loudly, your skin clammy and cold as you abandon your groceries and call out again, "Cerise!"

The store isn't that huge so in theory, Cerise shouldn't be far and you just pray she didn't wander off into the open road. You feel hopeless until you turn into the fruit aisle.

Your breath leaves you when you see Cerise. "Oh thank God!" you exclaim and run to her, kneeling on your knees and pulling her into your arms. You hold her to you and caress her pigtails. "You can't scare Mummy like that, okay?" you whisper into her small shoulder. 

"The man said he would buy me candy," Cerise declares, holding onto your neck. 

"What?!" you exclaim, finally looking up at the man who'd been talking to your daughter. You're prepared to find some creepy old man but instead, a familiar face is staring down at you.

He's dressed in dressy clothes, his hair slicked neatly, and he has a thick mustache—he didn't have a mustache the last time you saw him, but that had been four years ago.  

This has to be a joke. "Y/n?" Tangerine says your name so smoothly and the sound causes a shiver down your spine. You stand, taking Cerise into your arms as she holds onto you.

"Tangerine," you whisper, staring into his striking blue eyes and you realize with a heavy heart that Cerise's are truly a carbon copy of his.

Tangerine looks at the child in your arms and clears his throat, "I- she ran over here and started talking to me. She wanted candy and I said I could buy 'er a chocolate bar if she'd help me find 'er parents—are ya—?" 

"Yeah, she's mine," you say, voice strained. "I- thank you for the offer but I told her no to candy."

Tangerine looks embarrassed and he rubs his nape as he says, "Y-yeah, sorry." He looks at Cerise more closely as she turns her head to him and smiles. "How old is she?" he asks and your heart pounds. 

Tangerine is smart, and you wonder if he sees through you already. You wonder if he'll know she's his daughter. 

You feel your cheeks warm. "She just turned four." You can't lie to him. You've never been able to lie directly to his face. He's always known you too well for that. Tangerine's face falls for a moment and you can almost see the panic. He blinks and then his expression turns blank as if a switch had been turned on. 

You always hated it when he did that.

"Ah, right, well, it'was pleasant seeing ya, darlin'," he says, adjusting his cuffs, and just like that he turns away without a second glance and he disappears from your life—again.

Your heart feels like someone had just stomped on it a thousand times and you want to cry. You hold Cerise tighter as she plays with your hair. 

He didn't even ask for her name. 

* * *

"You didn't even ask for her name?" Lemon asks with disbelief, watching from the small couch in their hotel room as his brother completely loses his mind.

Tangerine doesn't look at Lemon and his voice is strained, "Why would I do that?" 

"'Cause she's probably your kid, dimwit," Lemon sounds unamused. 

"Bull," Tangerine throws the knife he'd been using to cut an apple into the small sink and turns around, angrily popping a slice into his mouth, "Absolute bull, Lem, she's not mine. I mean—Y/n was definitely with other guys after me—like I was with other girls—" his sentence dies. 

"Yeah, 'cause you're a slut, and the only reason ya shagged those other birds that soon was because you missed 'er and wouldn't admit it. Ya know she isn't like that. She's better than ya," Lemon says honestly.

"And she was madly in love with ya. Isn't that why we left? Because she loved ya and you loved her? 'Cause ya didn't want her mixed up in our life? Do'you really think she'd fuck some other bastard that soon? No. Tangerine, that kid is yours."

Tangerine pinches the bridge of his nose, "No. She would have told me."

"Would she?" Lemon raises an eyebrow, "You left 'er."

Tangerine is annoyed at Lemon because he's right. He isn't stupid, the little girl with you had looked too much like him not to be his daughter, and that realization alone makes him want to throw up. 

He cannot be a father—not when he couldn't even be a good lover. You and your baby girl deserved so much better than him. 

"Listen, it's your life, but will ya ever forgive yourself if ya don't at least find out for sure?" Lemon adds, looking at his brother with sympathy. He shrugs. "If anything, bruv, help 'er with money. Ya'know we have loads extra and t'is the least you could do for 'er."

Tangerine knows Lemon's right—at least on the money. He wants you and your baby to live comfortably. 

"Yeah," is all he answers. 

* * *

You feel tired gross and dirty as Cerise runs around your small suburban house outside of the city, refusing to put on her socks. You haven't showered in three terribly long days and your hair is a mess.

"Cece, no, come here," you say, desperately trying to keep your phone pressed to your ear to continue your conversation.

"No mum, I know that and I've been looking around but I can't afford any private pre-schools," you say, catching Cerise mid-run and scooping her into your arms, "I turned out just fine without a fancy pre-school, didn't I?"

Your mother continues to chat your ear off you hear the doorbell and you position Cerise on your hip, ignoring her cries as you try and find her little feet. "Mum, someone's at the door, I'll call you later, okay," you say, walking and opening the door.

You're thankful that your mother hung up because otherwise, she would have heard your gasp as you see who your visitor is.

"Tangerine," you say, holding Cerise closer as you put your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. 

"Hi, darlin'," Tangerine says. He's holding a basket filled with cookies, candies, and flowers. Your favorites. "Can I come in?" he asks.

You're star-struck as you nod and move aside so he can come inside. You shut the door behind him and set Cerise down, who immediately runs back to the living room where her toys are scattered around. Tangerine can't hide his smile as he watches her. "How did you find me?" you ask quietly, which causes him to turn around and hand you the basket. 

You take it as he says, "I have my ways," he cracks an all-too-familiar smile that makes your heart flutter. 

"Cryptic," you tease, your sentence dying, you look down and then try to tame your hair, "Sorry—I look like such a mess," you whisper.

Tangerine smiles kindly, "Nonsense, you look beautiful."

You strain a smile and focus on the real question, "Tangerine, why are you here?"

He walks closer and it takes everything in you not to stay put and let his warmth envelope you.

God, you missed him.

Instead, you back away and stare into his eyes. "Y/n, is she mine?" he whispers, his voice cracking. 

You frown. "No," you say, and then your voice softens, "I mean yes, she has your DNA but she's not yours. You don't even know her name. You don't know her. She's mine. I'm her mother and you're just some guy I fucked," your voice sounds breathless and you inhale as you shut your mouth. You feel dizzy as you see Tangerine's hurt look.

"I deserved that," he says calmly after a moment and runs a hand in his hair, "But, was I really just someone you fucked?" he asks, unfamiliar insecurities creeping into his voice. 

You lean against your wall, exhausted, "I- no- you weren't but you left," you say.

"I had to leave—ya don't understand—"

"Yeah, because you never let me understand," you whisper and look up at him with a look that leaves him completely heartbroken.

He sniffs and looks away and down the hall where he sees Cerise run up to you and envelop her tiny hands around your knees. She looks up at him, her eyes round and her brown curly hair framing her forehead, and she smiles. 

Tangerine knees feel weak as she grins at him and he knows that he would kill to make so no one ever wipes that smile from his daughter's face. He would rather die. He looks up at you and you're running a hand in Cerise's hair— "Maybe you should leave—"

"What's her name?" he interrupts and looks at you for permission to let him kneel and speak to her. 

You nod, unable to deny him that. 

"Hi, angel, what's your name?" he says and crouches in front of her, smiling as he looks at her. She's adorable. She looks like you. Tangerine's heart melts. 

"Cece," she says, holding you tighter and looking up at you. 

"Cerise," you say as Tangerine stands again, "It means Cherry in French, but everyone just calls her Cece because she can't pronounce her full name correctly yet."

Tangerine smiles, "It's a very pretty name," he looks you over and then clears his throat, "Would you mind if I–stay a little?" 

You look at him sternly and frown, "I was gonna take her to the playground. She has so much energy this afternoon," you whisper and Cerise takes this as a cue to sprint back into the living room and make more chaos. 

"One cuppa?" Tangerine almost pleads again, his tone hopeful. He looks genuinely sincere. "I want to know all about her—and you," he pauses and then hesitates, "I did miss you, darlin'."

Your heart clenches and you run a hand in your hair again, murmuring a curse under your breath. You missed him too.

"One cup," you say and hold out your arm to take his suit jacket, "on the condition we drink it at Cerise's play-table. I promised her I'd play with her."

Tangerine nods and sheds his suit jacket and his shoes. He looks around your house at all the pictures you have of your friends, family, and of course Cerise. His heart aches and he realizes that he's missing from all these pictures. 

"Black tea?" you call from the kitchen and Tangerine smiles. You remember that it's his favorite. 

"Yes, luv, thank you."

So, Tangerine finds himself sitting on one of Cerise's small chairs as she sits in front of him, pouring him some invisible tea in the tiny cup on the small table in front of him. His knees bang on the table and Cerise looks at him, her tiny nose scrunched in disapproval.

Tangerine's heart flutters. She looks so much like you. "Sorry, angel," he whispers and steadies the table with his hand. 

Cerise hums and continues to pour air into the cups. 

You walk back in, holding a mug of tea for Tangerine and one for you and Cerise to share. You can't help the smile that forms on your lips when you see Tangerine sitting with your daughter.

You sit on the ground next to them and hand him his cup. He shakes his head, causing you to put the mug down near his arm, and he picks up the small cup and pretends to sip the non-existent contents for Cerise. 

The little girl's smile widens when he says, "Mmm, yum," and puts the cup down. Your heart melts when you hear Cerise's happy laugh and she says, 

"There's no tea in there, silly," she tilts her head, "it's all pretend."

Tangerine looks embarrassed and you feel bad so you put your hand on his arm, silently thanking him for the kind gesture. "She's a smart kid—she just has a big imagination," you explain softly, smiling at Tangerine kindly. 

You hate how familiar this feels but oh god do you love it too.

"She's smart, just like you," Tangerine breathes out, drinking his real tea this time and he puts his hand on the one you have on his forearm. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, his voice small and as you stare into his eyes, time stands frozen. 

You strain a small smile and answer honestly. "We'll have plenty of time for sorries," you whisper and are revived by the instant nod Tangerine does.

Yes, we will, he says with his eyes, and although he wouldn't say it aloud, he's determined not to leave you again.

"For now, let's have a tea party," you tickle Cerise's tummy with your other hand.

Cerise giggles and Tangerine knows he's done for.

[sebsbarnes]

too sweet || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that.

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: requested by @whimsical-roasting inspired by lyrics from hozier's new song too sweet :)

masterlist

tangerine was harsh, uninviting. rigid and stern. he wasn't one to make small talk with the store clerk or mutter a hello to the person walking past him on the street. that was him, and he was unapologetically himself. he didn't care nor did he want to be that person who was over-joyous to strangers, it didn't entice him. what would he gain from exposing pieces of himself? he becomes vulnerable and that wasn't a word tangerine would ever describe himself as.

you were warm, inviting. gentle and kind. you were one to chat with the store clerk and greet the person walking past on the street. that was you, unapologetically yourself. you wanted to be that person who engaged with strangers whenever possible. you would gain so much from sharing and exchanging pieces of yourself with others. you felt secure.

tangerine faults himself for breaking that day he met you. he often wonders why his eyes cast a glance at you, but they did and that simple movement upturned his life.

it was a long day, a day from hell, actually. tangerine was exhausted from work and found himself dragging his feet home. his head screamed in pain, his throat felt tight from dehydration, and his stomach was practically eating itself. the flickering neon light of the convenience store caught his attention and the metal bell announced his arrival in the store. he wandered to the drink cooler and stuffed his arms with anything that sounded appealing. tangerine wanted a real dinner but unfortunately that night the snack aisle would be a five-star meal.

"you can never go wrong with these," a voice spoke and tangerine saw a pointing hand come into his field of vision. he mumbled under his breath some sort of 'thank you' and grabbed the bag of crackers.

that's when he looked over. that's when he saw you. that's when tangerine's normal hard exterior soon chiseled away in your presence. he felt his shoulders relax and he stopped gritting his teeth when you looked back at him and smiled.

"if you want something more hardy they got killer snacks up at the register. i'll admit i'm almost a regular here because of them. it's a bit embarrassing but the workers are really cool," tangerine stood there and listened to you talk. he liked the way your lips pulled up into a smile and how animated your face became. perhaps it was the pure exhaustion from the day that wore him down and made him engage in a conversation with you, or maybe it was just your warm presence.

it wasn't long after that night in the convenience store that tangerine ran into you again. he didn't see you at first but rather heard you. your booming voice and infectious laugh carried its way over to him. he was on a walk, an exercise he enjoyed, when the breeze carried you to him. he paused on the sidewalk and in some measly attempt to stall, tangerine re-stretched his legs until you came closer.

'hey! i remember you, how were those snacks?"

tangerine pretended to be caught off guard at first before responding, "pretty fuckin' good, i can't lie."

"told you!" you laughed with a wave goodbye.

tangerine found himself cemented to the sidewalk watching the back of your head disappear into the day, your arms flailing as you spoke to the friend beside you, and your voice slowly drifting away.

this would keep happening, tangerine running into you in public every few days in different places. it confused him a bit, to the point he almost considered that you were some spy out to get him and his arm would subconsciously drift to the knife in his pocket. each time he would stop himself when you began to talk about the most mundane things and share little anecdotes about yourself with him, like how last night you burnt your dinner and ate a whole bag of wonton strips you found in the back of your pantry from a recipe you cooked a year ago or how earlier that day you stepped in dog poop and didn't realize until you tracked it into the store. tangerine loved hearing you overshare and how kind you treated him even when he was a stranger.

in the months to come you and tangerine turned these random run-ins into deliberate meetings. at the park, at the movies, at a restaurant, at his home. you would notice the glances from people when tangerine stood beside you or the raised brow when tangerine was short with conversation while you talked the person's ear off.

"i know i'm not the friendliest but at least i don't grimace in people's faces," tangerine chided.

you tsked, running a hand up and down his bicep, "oh tang, don't mind them. they just don't know you like i do."

but he did start to mind how others perceived him after the two of you started dating. most people knew how outgoing and sweet you were, but tangerine didn't want to taint the image of you with him by your side. he didn't want people to start believing you were also this cold, stern, person. you couldn't even be if you tried. not only this but he felt guilty hiding his job from you. had you been aware you wouldn't be with him. each day you prioritized the happiness of others and never acted with malice, he was the stark contrast. he hated how he was beginning to love the sweetness.

it was late, 3am to be exact, and the two of you were lying in bed. your legs wrapped around tangerine and his head propped up on the satin. the tv cast a glow onto the bed, the array of colors illuminating your skin. it was an action movie. fast-paced, big cars, bad people, and drugs. your hand was placed on tangerine's cheek, the small digit of your thumb caressing the empty space below his eye. a gun sounded and your body jolted, eyebrows pulled together at the sight of the body falling to the ground.

"that's so scary. i can't believe there are people out there who want to hurt others," you sighed.

tangerine stiffened. he could hear the beat of his heart drumming in his ears and the way his hands became clammy. he watched as the main character aimed his gun at another person and pulled the trigger with no hesitation. that was him. he was watching himself and without you even knowing, you were also watching him. who he really was.

"why's your heart beating so fast. you a lil scaredy cat hm?" you joked rubbing your palm on his chest.

tangerine stifled a fake laugh, "just gettin' nervous for him," he winced at how pitiful his excuse was but you didn't seem to catch on.

he felt sick. you were too sweet for him, like grapes at the bottom of a barrel, aging into a sweet wine. he was foul-mouthed, hot-headed, impolite, and dangerous. he wasn't meant for you, didn't deserve you. he only ever knew the bold and strong taste of a black coffee or a neat whiskey. he wasn't used to the sweet flavor.

[cyberjam]

THE ANGEL AND THE DEVIL | tangerine x reader

headcanons based off of this request on tangerine being the absolute softest boyfriend to his absolute sweetheart of a partner.

warnings - a little suggestive(?), mentions of violence

word count - 3.8k

song - no ordinary love - sade ⌁

main masterlist !!

tan - 🍊 | lem - 🍋 | you - 🍑

- HOW YOU MET -

- it's very cliché, but you two met at a café.

- it was exceedingly early in the morning.

- you usually didn't work this late (or early). your shifts were usually in the middle of the day, when the sun was shining brightly and the customers would pop in to work on their own separate projects.

- and you would've been working that shift, if a coworker of yours didn't ask you to fill in for her.

- you agreed to do it without a second thought, you were always pretty fond of helping people out whenever they needed it.

- just to see them smile in relief or to hear them praise you for being a 'saint' always made you feel warm inside.

- the harsh rainfall that occurred outside didn't bother you a single bit. you enjoyed the rain more than sunny weather, just the sound of the repeated pitter-patter beating against the window like an angelic tune soothed you like no other.

- you didn't really expect anyone to come into the coffee shop this early in the day, especially with how harsh the weather was. so, you were rather surprised to see a regular customer and what you assumed was his counterpart, enter the shop.

- lemon had become a regular after trying a slice of banoffee pie.

- you liked his name, you thought it was sort of silly to see such an intimidating man rock a name like lemon.

- you expressed your love of his name to him one day and he ended up giving you a nickname himself.

- "lemon, hi! it's so nice to see you. - 🍑

- "mornin', peach. this's ma twin brotha', tangerine." - 🍋

- you didn't admit it out loud but as soon as you made eye contact with him, you felt your stomach erupt like a volcano and your cheeks started to get warm at the sight of him.

- "hello! s'nice to meet you." - 🍑

- tangerine paused for a moment before gently nodding at you.

- to say he was caught off-guard by your gorgeous smile and kind eyes would be an understatement.

- he felt robbed.

- he went his entire life without knowing who you were and now that he's seen you he doesn't want to look away.

- you captivated him to say the least.

- "im guessing you'll have the regular?" - 🍑

- "yeah, but make it double." - 🍋

- as you were fixing their order, lemon and tangerine engaged in a small convo.

- "thas' peach, yeah?" - 🍊

- "yeah, real sweetheart'. makes the best banoffee pie. next time we come you outta try it." - 🍋

- tangerine only hummed as he kept his eyes focused on you. he couldn't really understand why you were so captivating to him.

- your aura was just so...soft and alluring.

- and your voice was simply just enchanting.

- it made him sick.

- he just met you, and there barely was any introduction.

- he shouldn't feel so…..entranced by you.

- he doesn't want to feel this way about you.

- just one look at you and he could tell that you were the type of person to burst into tears if someone even slightly raised their voice at you.

- how pathetic.

- you weren't soft or alluring to him. no.

- you were weak.

- he felt pity for you if anything.

- there was just no possible way he could be attracted to someone so...feeble.

- right? ..

- THE CRUSHING STAGE -

- he'd constantly tell himself that you're just some pathetic cafe worker, that held no importance to him.

- yet he can't seem to find the will to stay away from you.

- ever since he saw you behind that counter for the first time, an unfamiliar flutter started to thrash around in his chest and stomach.

- that feeling that he hated oh so much, only came around when he saw you.

- he despised you for it.

- but he also despised himself for not putting a stop to his visits.

- he could've easily gotten lemon to start picking up their orders once again, but then that meant he wouldn't be able to see you.

- and the urge to see you was too strong for him to resist.

- his thoughts would constantly scold and taunt him as he'd make his way to the cafe you worked at.

- his mind was telling him no, and saying that he should stay away from you. but his heart and body were screaming at the top of their lungs. begging and pleading to be around you.

- even if it was just for a small fleeting moment.

- sooner or later, you began to notice a spike in visits from tangerine.

- usually it'd just be lemon.

- but after you met tangerine, you started to see the both of them.

- and then it eventually just became tangerine.

- even though you missed the playful banter you and lemon would have, being able to see tangerine nearly everyday had to have been one of the sweetest treats you've ever received.

- tangerine was a bit more gaudy than the men you usually took an interest in.

- he was a rude and violent individual.

- there'd even be certain times where you'd cringe whenever he'd enter the shop.

- with the way he spoke to people you'd think he was completely nullified of any type of manners or emotions besides anger.

- until he started interacting with you.

- he'd talk to a random customer like this:

- "just grab ya fuckin' donut and go, ya cunt." - 🍊

- but as soon as he arrived at the counter and made eye-contact with you, his entire demeanor would change.

- " hey, how ya doin', love?" - 🍊

- his tone was completely different and his deeply furrowed eyebrows that were usually partnered with an annoyed frown were now nowhere to be found.

- it always made you feel more giddy than usual to see him turn on such a sweet persona for you.

- the interactions between you two were always fairly quick.

- greet each other, give him his order, and then send him off with a friendly wave and shy smile.

- it was a rather simple exchange, but it never failed to make your heart flutter.

- after a short while you'd start writing encouraging words on their to-go cups with a cute little animation on the side, hoping to brighten their day.

- have the best day today!! ♡ৎ(˶ ⍤ ˶)

- see you next time. this one was made with extra love! ૮ ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ა

- i loved that tie you wore last time! blue looks nice on you. ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

- i hope lemon is doing well, i don't see much of him anymore. tell him i said hi. (๓´͈ ˘ '͈๓)

- on a particularly empty day in the cafe, tangerine decided to approach you about the sweet messages you wrote.

- "if i didn' know any better i'd think you were flirting wit' me." - 🍊

- you were embarrassed, because in a way you were.

- "i just thought encouraging words could be a helpful pickup for you." - 🍑

- before tangerine could reply, a man quickly rushed to the cash register that you were in front of and started shouting at you.

- "i told ya' 'm 'n a fuckin' rush! stop yer goddamn chit-chat and make my fuckin' order ya lazy harlot." - #!

- you were embarrassed. it wasn't the first time someone had talked to you like that, but the man said that in-front of your favorite customer, a person that you had taken a romantic liking to.

- "ah, im so sorry, sir. i-." - 🍑

- but before you could even finish your sentence, tangerine had already grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and had his face smushed against the counter top.

- you jumped back in shock, letting out a little yelp of fear as you brought your hands up to cover your mouth.

- "apologize to the lady and i won't beat ya' to a bloody pulp." - 🍊

- his voice was eerily calm as he held the man against the countertop.

- his eyes were blown wide open, a burning ferociousness present in his irises as he held the man against the countertop.

- "i-im sorry. please, jus' let me go." -#!

- the man's voice cracked and drool dribbled from his mouth as he was being held against the counter top. his once pale skin started to turn pink as he pathetically whimpered out apologies.

- tangerine looked towards you, his once burning gaze softening at your frightened stature.

- "you accept 'is apology?" - 🍊

- you froze before quickly nodding, afraid that if you spoke up, you'd stutter.

- that's all it took before tangerine released the man. his hands that were once forcing the perpetrator against the countertop were now fixing the cuffs on his suit.

- the stranger didn't even look at your face once he was released from tangerines hold, he immediately ran out of the cafe, leaving his money and food behind. (as well as a bit of dignity. if he had any left)

- tangerine grabbed a napkin that was nearby and wiped the drool off the counter, he even started picking up cups and stray napkins that fell off the counter top from the aggressive dispute.

- "you-um, you didn't have to do that." - 🍑

- he paused in his steps and stared at you for a brief moment.

- having him look so deeply into your eyes made you weak in the knees and slightly fearful of what his next move could be, in that moment you simply regretted speaking.

- "and just let 'em talk to you like that?" - 🍊

- he scoffed before shaking his head, throwing the used tissues away and leaning against the counter top to get closer to you.

- you lightly flinched as he reached his hand towards your face which made him 'tsk' at your jumpiness before cupping your cheek and wiping away a stray tear.

- "pretty girls like you don't deserve to be treated that way." - 🍊

- you didn't even realize that you were leaning into his touch until he brought his hand away.

- "have a g'day, peach." - 🍊

- you were awestruck at the events that occurred in the past 5 minutes, but as soon as you were able to recollect yourself you had decided then and there that you would show your appreciation for him the next time he came.

- and what better way to show your appreciation for someone other than baking them a tasty dessert?

- even though tangerine seems like the type of person to not like sugary things, you still ended up looking for a sweet treat to make him.

- and after some research you decided on making him a sizable amount of tangerine pudding. (in homage to his name.)

- you went to work earlier than usual to get started on your little project.

- the thought of making a new dessert that you've never tried to make before thrilled you, but the thought of making it as an appreciation gift for someone made it much more exhilarating and meaningful.

- it took a while to make it, but after a few failed attempts and small breaks to gather yourself, you had accomplished your goal of making one of the most perfect tangerine puddings imaginable.

- you were so happy and proud with your work, your excitement was almost able to erase any type of nerves you had.

- after admiring your work for a small moment you took a glance towards the clock and noticed how it was getting closer and closer to the time he'd usually arrive.

- once you fixed their usual order and put the pudding in the mini fridge under the counter that you were at, you patiently waited for tangerine.

- you didn't have to wait long, because just like clockwork, tangerine entered into the shop at the same time he usually did, looking as dashing as usual.

- you waved at him with a giddy smile, he returned a small genuine smile of his own while adjusting the lapels on his suit.

- "g'morning tan! i-uh, i made something special for you. i wanted to thank you for sticking up for me yesterday. i really appreciate it..." - 🍑

- you slid his usual order over to him before grabbing the pudding out of the mini fridge and setting it in front of him.

- "i don't know if you like sweet things, but i made you a tangerine flavored pudding." - 🍑

- tangerine couldn't help but let his once small smile grow into a wide grin.

- "really? you made all this for me?" - 🍊

- you nodded, biting your bottom lip to contain your excitement. (if only you knew how cute you looked to him.)

- he was about to bring the spoon up to his lips, but stopped himself before he could consume any.

- " do ya' wanna sit and enjoy it wit' me?" - 🍊

- "oh, i couldn't. im still on my shift and the reason i made it was for you to enjoy!" - 🍑

- "it won't be much of a treat if i don' have you there to enjoy it wit' me. 'ow bout i come back after your shift?" - 🍊

- "that...that would be great, yeah." - 🍑

- "good. until then, peach." - 🍊

- THE DATING STAGE -

- He has a very small and limited amount of tolerance for people.

- until it comes to you.

- Then he all of a sudden has all of the time and patience in the world.

- You could be drunkenly rambling about absolutely nothing and he'll just fondly look at you while gently rubbing your back, softly humming in agreement as if he understands anything you're saying.

- He adores taking you shopping.

- Just seeing you light up whenever you see a pretty dress or a stunning piece of jewelry will make him whip out his credit card at the speed of light.

- "ya' like that dress, bun? go try it on." - 🍊

- he'll make a whole day out of spoiling you.

- he'll sit back and sip champagne while you try on the most extravagant outfits that are made out of the finest material from all around the world.

- "get whateva' ya' want, sweets'." - 🍊

- tangerine also really enjoys picking out your outfits. especially for date night.

- he'll make sure you look nothing less than extravagant on your fancy dinner dates.

- he sometimes likes to match outfits, not too often though, it kinda throws him off and he simply just doesn't want to be that kind of couple.

- he'll only 'match' with you if it's solid colors. like black, blue, white/cream. nothing too bright or flashy.

- ladybug jokes around and often says tangerine's your sugar daddy.

- small side note, tangerine absolutely hates the dynamic you and ladybug have.

- ladybug and you have built a nice friendship over the years. you don't see him often, so whenever you do it's always a treat.

- tangerine would've already cut ladybugs arms off long ago, but you were always so pleased to see ladybug whenever you could, and how could he possibly strip you of something that brings you so much joy?

- ladybug is annoyingly spared...

- for now.

- you have caught tangerine on a couple occasions, casually slipping jewelry off of people and then offering it to you, in which you give him a disapproving look with your arms crossed.

- "it would suit you more, dove." - 🍊

- "tan, please go give that woman her bracelet back. i already have 4 just like that." - 🍑

- he'll glumly give the woman her bracelet back and tell her 'she dropped it' but you both know the truth.

- omg, any present that you give him will make him practically melt inside.

- he'll always amp up the gifts you give him, even if it's something he doesn't particularly like or care for.

- "what? you got this fa' me? love, ya' shouldn' have." - 🍊

- whole time it's an itchy ugly sweater that you saw while casually shopping.

- he'll never wear it on his own accord unless you ask him too. then he absolutely will, and he'll wear it with pride.

- why? because his baby got it for him.

- and lemon absolutely adores you more than anything.

- he treats you like his own little sister.

- he'll coddle you like you're the most fragile porcelain in the entire world.

- he gives the best bear hugs ever. he always holds you so tight, it's like being embraced by a warm, soft, cloud.

- lemon has an awful habit of casually barging into you and tangerines apartment without warning.

- let's just say, you and tangerine have learned to keep your intimate moments in the bedroom and lemon has learned to announce his arrival 3 minutes in advance through the phone.

- you and lemon tend to have long and deep meaningful conservations pretty often. you'll try to include tangerine and get his input on some things but he'll never interject.

- mainly, because he's still struggling to be vulnerable with the people he loves. it's a slow process but he's steadily getting there with the help of the two most important people in his life. :)

- you and lemon will talk about any and everything under the sun, from sports, to cooking shows, to disneyland, to funny little memories you've had in the past...basically everything!

- there's never a dull moment between you two.

- but along with being tangerines twin brother and growing up with him, they have some of the same characteristics.

- they both are extremely over protective of you.

- a few examples...

- ladybug says a joke out of hand while tangerine isn't around?

- he's getting a hard stare from lemon, that's partnered with a passive aggressive statement, and a warning pat on the shoulder.

- "oi, watch ya' mouth, yeah?" - 🍋

- you're walking to the grocery store and someone roughly bumps into you?

- lemon will grab them by their shoulders before turning them towards you and asking telling them to apologize.

- some sleazy dirtbag is hitting on you?

- lemon is pulling tangerine off of his bloody unconscious body.

- all in all you basically have two bodyguards.

- theyre both very protective of you, especially tangerine.

- if you ever came home with cuts or bruises because someone assaulted you, he would absolutely see nothing but red.

- he loves you, but there couldn't be enough begging and pleading in the world from you that would stop him from unleashing his wrath on whoever hurt you.

- even if it was just a shitty family member who got too drunk, tangerine doesn't care.

- he'd clean you up first, run a bath for you, wash your hair, and even order food for you. he'll really hold and comfort you like no tomorrow.

- but once he knows you've fallen fast asleep and you show no signs of waking up anytime soon... he's getting himself dressed to go on a personal mission of his own.

- even with lemon and tangerines protection, they worry about you when they're not there.

- which is why they taught you how to defend yourself.

- every other saturday or so, tangerine (sometimes along with lemon) will teach you how to defend yourself.

- it's a pretty grueling process, even when they go easy on you.

- "cmon' you're not hurtin' anyone with those pillow punches, darling. now, again. hit me." - 🍊

- "i-no. i don't wanna hurt you, tan." - 🍑

- "love, if ya' wanna be strong and able to defend yaself', ya have to train." - 🍊

- he says it so softly too :(

- he's always so gentle with you, it doesn't matter the situation or circumstance.

- if you're non-confrontational, he will bring certain things to your attention in the calmest way possible.

- he'll never address you aggressively or maliciously call you out of your name. he'd sooner die than treat you like he treats everyone else.

- it's honestly why arguments between you two don't happen often.

- you two get into disagreements sometimes but they've never led to shouting, storming out on each other, or throwing things out of anger.

- if you cry during one he will immediately drop it, doesn't matter what it's about, it couldn't have been that important.

- "no, no, no, dove. don't cry, m'sorry. please, don't cry," - 🍊

- he absolutely hates seeing you cry.

- it's like someone reached in his chest and physically tore his heart out and stomped on it infront of him. (a bit dramatic, but that's how he feels)

- he feels terrible.

- even if you're an overly-sensitive person and cry about nearly everything under the sun, he will still feel bad about making you cry.

- he never wants you to shed tears because of him. unless it's out of pleasure or pure happiness.

- and if someone else makes you cry?

- they will absolutely get the beating of a lifetime.

- there have been times random men have said incredibly rude things to you while tangerine was lingering around.

- it ends badly for them every time.

- it truthfully doesn't matter who it is.

- if tangerine even gets the slightest hint that you were upset by something someone said, he's making sure they're getting pulled out of the establishment in a stretcher.

- he tries his best not to bring his normally hot-headed attitude around you, but sometimes people are able to press just the right buttons that get him all riled up and now he's on edge.

- you can always tell when he's on edge.

- he's a bit more aggressive when he does mundane tasks and he's quietly cursing under his breath while roughly running his hands through his hair.

- "stupid cunt, he's lucky i ain' shoot 'em in front of 'is wife and kids." - 🍊

- and he's doing the dishes...^

- over time you've learned how to easily and quickly calm him down from his little tantrums.

- there are many different ways you could go about calming him down, but the easiest and most effective way is just beckoning him to come lay down on the couch/bed with you and giving him a head rub.

- little moments where you can just relax and hold each other are his all time favorites.

- you have a very comforting smell and presence that just immediately draws him to you.

- sometimes if his missions last longer than he'd like them to, he'll sneak one of your favorite bottles of perfume in his suit jacket.

- he won't use it, he'll just smell the inside of his jacket, it makes him feel comforted, like you're right next to him.

- but missions are always hard, it's just something you both won't ever get used to...

- you'll usually send the boys away by baking them a nice, sweet, tasty treat. it differs from pie, muffins, cupcakes, beignets, and much more.

- tangerine and lemon are both extremely comforted by your baking. they absolutely love it and talk about it quite often on their missions.

- "lucky bastard you are. if ma' girl could bake like this i'd marry her on the spot." - 🍋

- "sooner or later." - 🍊

- he's actually so whipped for you it's insane at this point.

- one of tangerines' favorites things to do is tease you.

- but not in a patronizing way.

- he just likes to see you get flustered, it gives him an incredibly huge confidence boost.

- he'll call you every pet-name under the sun to see you get all bashful and cute for him.

- "ya' look gorgeous as always, dove."

- "c'mere, bun."

- "sleep well, darling."

- "such a pretty thing you are."

- he knows it makes you feel a certain way and he finds it so adorable when you shy away from him because you're too nervous to look him in the eye.

- tangerine likes to act like he isn't completely whipped and in love with you, but he absolutely is.

- anything you ask for, he will get.

- you want a cat/dog even though he's allergic?

- it's all yours, just keep it out of the bedroom.

- you wanna go to paris?

- the hotel and flight are already booked, first class seats and a room with the most gorgeous view.

- you want him to bake with you even though he's not that good in the kitchen?

- the supplies are out and he's already wearing his 'kiss the cook' apron.

- overall, you truly are the love of tangerines life and he would rather die than to ever see you walk away from him.

- he protects you with his life, and he will continue to do so, until death do you part.

this one was much longer than my last one. this was a request from my lovely moot @kpopgirlbtssvt . i hope you enjoy, love!

- bunnie ᘏ⑅ᘏ

[queers-gambit]

The Blood of the Covenant

prompt: ( requested ) being raised alongside the Twins, you naturally fell on path to become a contract killer - much to Tangerine's chagrin. when you're recruited onto the Bullet Train, too, emotions cum into play - get it?

pairing: Tangerine x female!assassin!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.4k+

note: this isn't very good, i'm very sorry.

warnings: codename Olive 'cause it's cute, cursing, Lord's name in vain, mild spoilers, AU timeline (obviously), Tan is still Aaron, Lem is still Brian, emotional confessions, mild depiction of violence, very short and poorly written smut, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, needles / weaponized venom [The Hornet], and dead bodies.

"So, you get on the train, you find the Twins, and you get off - it's easy," Constance, your handler, scolded through the phone. "Seriously, why are you so nervous? It's like the most lowkey job you've ever been assigned."

"Yeah, you're just forgetting the part where I have to locate some generic looking briefcase on this God forsaken train, make sure they have the White Death's son, then get them all off - "

"Okay, see, now you're making it all complicated," Constance laughed again. "C'mon, Olive, tell me the truth."

"What truth?"

"You're nervous," she sang in your ear.

"No shit, I'm nervous!" You snapped, connecting the bluetooth device and shoving your phone in your pocket as the train jetted into the station. "Do you have a good reason I shouldn't be?"

"Um, how about the fact that you guys grew up in the orphanage together, making you practically family, and that they're gonna be overjoyed to see you?"

"Yeah, right!" You laughed, "You don't know the guys, and it's been, like, 4 years since I've seen them. They're scary overprotective and if they know what I'm doing professionally, they'll probably handcuff me to one of them and deliver me to some nunnery."

"Are those even a thing anymore?"

"Fuck if I know," you snorted.

"You're overthinking, Olive, just breathe," she advised. "Look, the intel is good. The White Death is up to something and if you wanna see the Twins alive, you need to get them off the train."

"Cool, so fuck the case and the son?"

"Nope, you wanna get paid, you gotta grab them, too."

You sighed, the train doors opening. "Well, here goes fucking nothing..."

"I've literally never heard you this nervous, it's kinda cute."

"Constance, is there a reason we're still on the phone?" You asked, nodding at the people you passed and excusing yourself as you searched the train cars slowly.

"I wanna hear how this goes!"

"Call you when I have the payloads, 'mmkay?"

"No," she whined, "c'mon, lemme hear the reunion!"

"Goodbye, Constance, as always, you're a giant pain in my ass."

"Oh, like you're a basket of roses. Fine, go, deprive me of this. Fucking killjoy!"

"Talk soon - and if not, I'm probably shot."

"Well, just... Don't get shot?"

"Spot-on advice, love."

"You'd be lost without me."

"Bye, you idiot."

"Seriously, don't get shot!"

Disconnecting the call, you chuckled to yourself and dodged around a family. However, right behind them was a man in a bucket hat and thick black framed glasses carrying a silver briefcase, who bumped your shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am," he instantly apologized in English.

"No worries," you smiled, nodding at him. "Have a nice ride."

"You, too," he nodded back, and you turned to continue on your way, missing the way the man eyed you - and gulped when he caught sight of the gun in your waistband. He scurried on his way.

You entered another train car, pausing to take a long breath as you surveyed the patrons. You moved onto the next section, the train rocketing into motion. However, as you approached the next set of doors, you gasped and skirted to a halt when two men lingered in the connection.

"Oh - what the bloody fuck are you doing here!?" Aaron snapped instantly.

"Well, hello to you, too, love," you grumbled with a curled lip.

"Hi, doll!"

You grinned at Brian, greeting him with enthusiasm; offering a giant hug, him kissing your cheek noisily. "So good to see you," you told him when you pulled back.

"Tan," Brian snapped, glaring at him as he gestured at you. "C'mon, mate, don't be like this - 's been years!"

"Yeah, Tan," you pouted dramatically.

"You even know what Tan stands for?" Brian snickered.

"Nope."

"Tangerine," then he pointed at himself, "Lemon."

Aaron's blue eyes rolled, sighing deeply before nodding. "Right, right, c'mere, then, you," he opened his arms, and when you stepped into his embrace, you swear, it was like returning home. After a beat, you felt his arms tighten and his nose press into your neck, subtly inhaling; making you give him a tighter squeeze.

"Oh, Jesus, all right, c'mon, I'm standing right here," Lemon groaned, you and Tan parting, but only saddling beside him with his arm around your neck and yours anchored around his waist.

"So," you chirped, shifting your body weight, "you two have the case, I assume? And the Son - "

"Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' joking," Tangerine snapped, glaring at you as you grinned mischievously. "How's it you know about any of that?"

"She's on assignment, felt the gun when I hugged her," Lemon snickered as if it were common knowledge. "How long you've been working, love? Why didn't you ring us? Talk to us 'bout this?"

"I needed to?"

"No, but just for a bit of a catch-up?" Lemon shrugged. "You know, tell us you're doin' some dangerous job instead of teaching? Aren't you supposed to be a teacher now?"

"This pays better."

"Not gonna get paid a single dime, the fuck's wrong with you?" Tan snapped, dropping the arm from your neck to round on you in anger. "You're seriously on a job?"

"Mhm," you hummed with a smile. "And why won't I see a dime, exactly?"

"'Cause you're not doin' this fuckin' job, love, for fuck's sake!"

"Tan, just calm down," Lemon sighed, holding a hand to him as the man with a pornstache paced in a small circle; wiping a hand around his mouth. "Love? What's the job you're on?"

"Mh," you nodded, "well, 's a bit unprofessional to tell you, but fuck it. I'm to collect the case, grab the White Death's son, and get you two off this fucking train."

"Oh - for fuck's - "

"Tan!" Lemon laughed. "Mate, take a breath! She's obviously qualified if she's made it this far, got this assignment."

You grinned, "You ever hear rumors about that shit that went down in Medellín?"

"Don't tell me," Lemon gasped. "That was you?"

"Most of it wasn't intentional, but I'm pretty good at improvising," you teased. "Anyways, I heard about Bolivia, you two are certainly making names for yourselves, aren't yah?"

"Well," Lemon smiled bashfully, waving you off.

"Right, so, we're approaching the next station," you pointed out, clasping your hands in front of you and smiling, "so, where's the Son?"

"Oh, uh, up there," Lem pointed to the next train car.

"Mhm, good, good, good, and the case?" There was an awkward silence as Lemon and Tangerine exchanged long looks. "Hey? Where's the case, Brian - I mean, Lemon?"

"Well, uh... Funny thing, yeah?" He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Tan? Sweetheart?" You smiled prettily, reaching for his hand to halt his pacing, "Where's the case?"

"It's..." Tan trailed, seeing Lemon shaking his head vigorously from behind you. He sighed when he met your sweet eyes and admitted, "It got lifted, love."

"Oh, you fuckin' simp," Lemon groaned.

"What? Wanted me t'lie? She's got that sixth sense for that shit, mate!" Tangerine defended.

"No, you're just whipped!"

"She's looking for the same bloody case, she'd know eventually!"

You let go of Tan's hand to answer your ringing phone, holding a finger to them both, "Hey, Constance, now's not a great time."

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing, just reuniting with the lads," you eased. "I'll call you when we have the case and kid, and are off the train, all right? And if I don't - "

"Yeah, yeah, you're shot. Fine, just..." She sighed. "Listen, you three aren't the only ones on assignment."

"Hmm?" You perked your brows.

"Yeah, so, Maria's got an agent in the field. Also, I just got intel that the Wolf's there, no idea why. The Hornet, too."

"You're fuckin' joking, right?"

"Nope. They popped up on our travel itineraries. They used pseudonyms naturally, but we have their records."

"Fuck me, all right... All right, yeah, we'll handle it."

"No, don't handle anything! Remember Rome!?"

"Rome wasn't my fault!" You snapped, taking a deep breath. "But it did piss the Hornet off, we'll be careful."

"Get off the fucking train, Olive!"

"When the packages are secured, love, yeah, all right, gotta go, bye-bye now!"

"Olive - "

You hung up and put your phone in your back pocket, sighing at the Twins. "Well, this just got more interesting. We aren't the only ones on this job," you frowned.

"What?" Lem's face dropped.

"Wait, what happened in Rome?" Tangerine asked, offering you his signature look of annoyance: a frown and pinched brows.

"Oh, nothing that was my doing," you waved off. "So, to recap, the case is missing, but the Son is secured?"

"Zip tied to his seat," Lemon nodded.

"Mhm, and where was the case?"

"I had it stashed, but..." He eyed the luggage tossed around the compartment.

"Now, it's gone. Okay, okay," you nodded, "so, just for future reference, don't stash the goods, all right? Terribly unprofessional, darling."

"Yeah," he nodded sadly.

"Oh, so when she says it - "

"She doesn't get all smart with me!" Lemon cut Tangerine off with a warning finger as he paced in the compartment. "The fuck do we do? We just passed the station - the fucker could've gotten off - I mean!"

"Easy," you spoke softly, but the panic was set between the two. You sighed when Lemon turned frantic, leaning back on the wall as Tangerine stood beside you.

"No, no, look, we got his son," Lemon reminded. "That was our job."

Tangerine shared a look with you, making you chide, "Stay calm. You get nowhere bein' so up-tight." His expression melted into something close to reprimanding, but he sighed and faced Lemon.

"Our job was to come back with his son and his $10 million. Three words to describe our situation right now, do you know what they are?"

Lemon glared, "Sure do." Then held up three fingers, dropping one for each word, "Saved - his - son. Hmm? Family's more important than money, right?"

"Do you honestly not know who the White Death is?"

"Yeah, I know who the White Death is. You just told me five minutes ago," Lemon snipped, making you sigh as he rambled an explanation.

"Why do I even bothering forwarding you the briefings?" Tan interrupted, exasperated by the entire ordeal.

There was a pause and Lemon replied softly, almost sheepishly, "I do not know. You get briefings, love?"

"Mhm, but my handler likes giving me the CliffNotes," you eased with a small shrug.

When Tangerine turned from you two to face the train's door, staring out the window, you and Lemon shared a look - his hand raising as if to wave off Tan's theatrics. In return, you just held a placating hand to him, letting Tangerine start his story about the White Death. When he got through his tale, he took a long breath, sighing deeply, musing as he turned back to you both, "So, let me put this bluntly. There's this soulless, psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet," then his hands dramatically gestured, "shoved right inside our fucking arse cheeks."

Lemon stared at his partner and then, too, mused, "That motherfucker's definitely a Diesel, then, isn't he?"

"You mention Thomas the Tank Engine one more time, I'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face," Tangerine snapped.

"No, no, he won't, Brian," you stepped in, standing between the two, glancing between them.

"'S Lemon when on the job, love."

"All right, sure, my apologies, Lemon," you agreed, "but he's not gonna shoot you." Lemon hummed and pointed at you in triumph, mocking Tangerine, making you scold, "No, don't do that, either. Your attitude gets us nowhere, right, lads?"

Lemon nodded at you before looking to Tan, asking, "Okay, okay, if-if-if-if he's such a badarse, how come he hired three random operators instead of getting his son back himself?"

"I wasn't hired by the White Death," you smiled, reaching a hand to Tangerine's to hold tightly when you saw his fuse about to blow. "And, you see, he had a wife, Lem."

"What? He had a wife?"

"Yeah," you nodded, ignoring Tan's impending meltdown, "and she was the most important thing in his life, and she died in a car crash. Some reports say it was an accident, some drunk driver... And others say it was an assignation attempt." You missed the look Tangerine sent you, looking you up and down, relating to the 'most important thing' comment. "But since then, he's not left the compound," you finished.

"An unnamed locomotive might say there's a lesson to be learned," Lemon quipped, irritating Tangerine.

"And you know what? He didn't hire three - or two," Tan amended, nodding at you, "random operators, Lemon. No, he asked for the best. He asked for the two responsible for the Bolivia job. He asked for pros, who wouldn't fuck up... Three words, Lemon, and now, you, too, sweetheart," he sneered at you. "We - are - "

"Fucked," Lemon finished.

"Oi, listen here, you two Debbie Downers, Christ, all right? Every situation can be remedied," you assured. "Yeah, this is - this isn't ideal, but between us three, we can figure something out. Yeah? Talkin' about you two bein' the best," you squeezed Tan's hand, "surely we can figure something out. C'mon, when do we give up?"

Lemon cocked his head, asking, "All right. Yeah, sure, but what's your codename? Can't go 'round callin' you your government. Would blow our covers."

"Olive," you smiled brightly, Tangerine scoffing. "Fuck off," you snapped instantly.

"Right, well, Olive's right," Lemon deflected, not giving Tan time to retort. He reached out to adjust Tan's suit lapel and tie, "We rescued his fucking son. Huh? We find the fucker who took the briefcase, make things right, be like it never happened," he laid out for you two, and when you tired to release his hand, Tangerine held on tighter - not letting you go.

Tangerine took a deep breath in, letting it out as he pulled out his gun with his free hand, flipping it open, checking the full round of bullets present, and snapping it closed before storing it again. He glanced at you before asking Lemon, "Still got that vest on yah?"

"No, vests give you a false sense of security," Lemon answered. "You might, like, get shot in the neck."

"Yeah, it also stops you from getting shot in the chest, but I guess you missed that episode of Thomas, did'yah?" Tan quipped, not letting Lemon time to answer because he looked at you again. "Bein' said, you are gonna stay put, doll face."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"Heard me," he snapped. "You're sitting this one out."

"I don't remember being hired by you," you dropped his hand to cross your arms. "You don't get a say in what I do - this isn't like back in the group home where you two bossed me 'around, playin' big brother."

"It's exactly like that, 'cause we've been doin' this a helluva lot longer - "

"And I was still hired to do this job, so, I suggest you shut the fuck up and watch yourself."

"I'm tryna keep you safe!"

"We're not children anymore, Aaron!" You snapped. "You don't get to dictate what I do anymore! Christ, all right? I was hired for this job, just like you two, so you can either get with the program and we work together, or just shut the fuck up - 'cause I'm not sitting a Goddamn thing out!"

"Jesus fuck, could cut the sexual tension between you two with a fucking plastic spoon." Lemon scoffed, rolling his eyes; earning two identical glares for either of you. "Fine, whatever, keep denying whatever this is - but look, you two done?" Lemon sighed, and when you nodded, he nodded back. "Right - nut up or shut up, bruv."

You went to follow Lemon out, but Tan snagged your arm before you got a step too far. He kept you at his side, laying your arm in the crook of his, and in-sync, he and Lemon fluffed their outerwear as you three stalked up the train aisle. You licked the pad of your thumb and wiped a bit of grime from the corner of Tan's mouth, his smirk directed at you as you approached the Son secured in his seat.

"Well, so, slight change of plans," Tan announced when you reached the seating. Lemon reached out to alert the seemingly sleeping Son, but the movement of his shoulder caused the lad's head to lull towards you three - making each of you recoil instantly.

"Oh!" You three groaned in union, seeing the rivers of blood streaming down the Son's eyes. He was dead as a doornail, some would say.

You stood watch as Tan and Lem leaned in closer to observe the dead body, Lemon commenting, "First his wife, now his son? That's a lot of white deaths."

Tangerine took a deep breath in, you reaching out to squeeze his elbow. "Sit down," you hissed quietly, "before you draw attention to us standing around a fucking corpse!"

"You're on watch!" Tan shot back.

"Can't do shit if you two are just staring at him! Fuck's sake, sit! You're so suspicious, aren'y you meant to be an agent?"

You pushed Lemon into the seat next to the Son and then Tan into the seating beside the window so you could claim the outside seat beside him. "We gotta disguise the body," Tan whispered, whipping out his handkerchief. You watched him dab the material to his tongue, reaching across to start cleaning the blood while Lemon looked around for anything to help.

"Hang on, hang on," he rushed, Tan pausing when a souvenir cart was approaching and pushing the lad's head towards the window. "Could we get a pair of them glasses, please?" He asked the kind attendant. "They look real fun."

The pretty lady nodded and handed over the oversized toy glasses, Lemon forking over a simple note and insisting the change be kept. You thanked the attendant in her native language as she passed, and after doing a look up and down again, nodded, "All right, go."

"Any fuckin' idea what happened?" Lemon muttered.

"No," Tan snapped.

"Looks like The Hornet's work," you whispered. "Yeah, see, her specialty are poisons and venom, most notably, that of the Boomslang snake." You smirked, "Anyone see the news recently? A Boomslang went missing earlier..."

Tan pulled the lad's head back and continued cleaning the blood off, needing to raise outta his seat to finish the job. Lemon offered, "Here, mate, try these. They're them Momonga glasses."

"The fuck is a Momonga?" Tan sneered through a small panicked pant, taking the toy and settling them on the Son's face.

"Japanese anime kid's show," you offered softly.

"Comes on after Thomas every Thursday," Lemon rushed, gasping, "oh, shi - " when the Son's head dropped. Tan and Lem fixed him to look as if he was only sleeping by leaning his head on the window.

"Thought you two were masters of disguise?" You teased.

"Shut it, darling, please," Tan snipped with a sigh. "All right, we need to split up - there's a lot of train to cover."

"What're we doing?" You asked, standing when Tan gestured you out of the way.

"Gonna find whoever has the case - probably the same nut job who killed the kid," he seethed. "The Hornet, you said?" He asked, watching you nod. Standing as a trio in the middle of the train aisle, you three agreed to split up and search for the case, but Tan insisted you come with him, "as back-up."

"You seriously need it?" You chuckled.

"No, but I wanna keep an eye on yah," he rolled his eyes.

"Shouldn't someone stay with the body?" You wondered.

"He's not gonna get any deader."

"Is that even a word?" You asked Lemon, giggling when Tangerine rolled his eyes and snatched your hand to follow after him.

You and Tan had scoured the entire train, but had zero luck. The only direction the two of you had was from a young girl with a crisp bob haircut in first class, who told Tan she saw a man with black frame glasses with their desired case. Your mind flashed back to earlier, remembering the blonde man and how he had a briefcase. It must've been their briefcase.

He must've just lifted it when you boarded and accidentally ran into him. You hated how foolish you felt, but there was no way you could've known that was the case you were after. Still, you felt a pang of disappointment in yourself - some sick desire to impress your brothers with your skill, to prove to them you're capable of being in this line of work. That you weren't that little girl in the orphanage anymore, but a woman grown who was capable of making her own decisions and having greater purpose.

"Hey," you paused Tan in another connection that lead to the next train car, "you go ahead and update Lemon, I'm gonna pop into the loo."

"I'll wait," he nodded, his phone ringing. "Sorry, love, just a minute. 'S fucking business."

You only nodded and slipped into the bathroom, doing your business, washing your hands, and when you emerged, you jumped back slightly in shock when the Momonga mascot was standing right there in the doorway. You peaked to your right, and in the next train car, through the window, spied Tangerine on his phone, the car mostly empty to your left.

"You need in here?" You asked the mascot, but it just stared at you. "I mean, d-do you need help outta that God awful costume?" More silence. "Riiiight, well, this is weird as fuck. Soooo... I'm just gonna... Go..." You mumbled, slipping out of the bathroom, but was instantly blocked from Tan's view. "The fuck? Oi, c'mon, mate, my friend technically gave you the plushie back." More silence. "Look, you creepy motherfucker - "

But you gasped when the plush mascot shoved you backwards, forcing you to stumble into the automatic door leading to the empty train car - yelping when it opened and you fell backwards.

"Fuck! Goddamnit, that hurt," You snapped, rolling to your feet as the human-sized plushie waddled towards you; the back of your head throbbing from impact and the automatic doors closing to trap the pair of you. "What the fuck, mate? What'd I do? The fuck you want?"

When the oversized head was removed, your mouth went dry. "Remember me, bitch?" The Hornet seethed.

"Ah, fuckin' Christ."

The Hornet smirked, "You've seen my face, you know what that means? I gotta take you out. You've evaded me too long."

"Rome wasn't my fault!" You barked instantly, watching her begin to maneuver out of her costume.

"You got my partner killed, bitch!"

"It was an accident!"

"Bullshit, bitch!" She raged, shedding her mascot costume to reveal a train attendant's uniform - wondering how long she'd been waiting for this opportunity if she was prepared to this level. "You had a hit list, we were on it - "

"Oh, fuck off, as if you've never been given orders!"

Her neck cracked as she tossed the costume to an empty seat. "Time to get my revenge," she grit, "bitch."

"Learn some new insults, my God, you're so fuckin' boring. Throw in some 'cunts' or even call me a 'arsehole', just lay off the 'bitches'," your eyes rolled, dodging the Hornet's first flying fist and nearly stumbling off your feet. You exchanged blows, dancing around one another, grunting, growling, heaving for breath, trying to incapacitate the other. On a particularly hard push, the Hornet managed to dislodge your gun and send it under a set of seats.

"Not so tough now, are yah, bitch?" She laughed sarcastically.

You wiped a small dribble of blood from your lip, panting to heave your shoulders up and down. "All right, you asked for this. Bring it on - bitch!" You laughed right back, the Hornet lunging forward. However, you missed the way she pulled out a prefilled syringe and tried to stab you with it; luckily evading the injection.

"Know what's in here?" She taunted. "Boomslang venom! Yeah, that's right. Highly potent, hits your system in 30 seconds, making you bleed from every orifice - "

"I know, you stupid fucking wanker! I watch the bloody news! I went to college! I'm educated enough to know!"

The doors opened again, revealing Tangerine. "Fuckin' hell!" He snapped, "You all right, Olive!? Hey?"

"Stay back, Tan, this bitch is mine!"

The Hornet wailed as she launched at you again. You were battered and beaten, the other woman lobbing you into furniture, tables, and train walls - causing small cuts to form on your unblemished skin. Yet still, you barked at Tangerine to stay back, that you had this.

You and the Hornet ended up on the floor, trying to one up each other. However, luck was not on your side because the Hornet had you pinned and she simply dropped the syringe into the flesh of your hand. You didn't need to think too deeply, you just rolled over, snatched up the syringe, and stabbed her, too - exposing her to the venom by pushing the syringe's plunger. You both stared at one another with wide eyes, panting.

"30 seconds before the venom does its thing," you taunted, knowing that any good assassin kept the antidote on their person - just in case. Her eyes narrowed and tongue swept over her front teeth, weighing her options; eyes locked in a stalemate, daring the other to make the first move. Do nothing, you both die... Reveal the antidote, only one will die.

She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a new syringe, you lunging for it with impressive lithe to stab into your neck and push the plunger. She seethed, "You bitch."

You stumbled back a step, colliding with Tan's chest as neither of you could look away as the Hornet's eyes went red with blood filling every cavern and crevice. "Oh, shit, that doesn't look good," you winced in fake sympathy. "You've got another syringe, right? A back-up?"

She warbled and wheezed, "What do you think, bitch?"

"What's with the whole bitch thing?" Tan asked in your ear. "She know any other words?"

You only shrugged as blood poured from the Hornet's eyes, filling her lungs to drown her from the inside. "No second antidote? Ah, that's just poor planning on your end, love," you taunted when the Hornet dropped to the ground, choking, blood leaking from her mouth. "I mean, you only carry one antidote? I thought you were supposed to be a professional? With your choice of weapon being venom, I mean," you laughed a little, "seems pretty stupid."

The Hornet continued to choke, trying to crawl up the aisle, but only getting a few feet before the effects of the venom took hold fully. She flopped onto her back, the blood congealing in a thick and tacky substance; staining the stolen uniform and floors of the train.

"What the fuck was that?" Tan snapped, turning you to face him. "Are you hurt!?" He worried, checking you over for visible sign of injury; finding two puncture wounds - one in your neck and one in your hand. You were decorated in soon-to-form bruises, but no bones were broken and you seemed relatively okay besides the small cuts.

"Tan," you soothed, placing your hand over his on your cheek. "I'm all right, I'm fine. She just caught me a little off guard."

"What the hell was that, huh? You got some kinda death wish, is it?"

"It's all part of the job!"

"Like hell, it is! This is why I didn't want you involved - "

"'Cause I could get hurt? Fuck's sake - "

"Yes, all right!" He exploded. "Yes, because you could get hurt! I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you, and look at yah now! I was on the fuckin' phone and you were fighting this... Wait, who the fuck is that?" Tan pointed at the dead body.

"Mh. The Hornet," you answered with a shrug. "She's been after me since Rome 'bout two years ago. I might be one of the very few who knows what she actually looks like - so, no wonder she wanted me dead. Plus... I might've allegedly, possibly, kinda-sorta got her partner killed. Turns out, he was also her lover and she's been after me since."

His head shook, "So now you have international enemies?"

"I mean, I guess it means I'm good at what I do - else they wouldn't bother to come after me."

"You shouldn't say that with pride! That's not how this works!"

"Tell me how you think it should work, then!"

Tangerine glared, "You shouldn't be involved. You worked too hard to become a teacher, to have a real career, and you threw it all away, for what? For this life?"

"What do you care, Aaron!? Honestly!? 'S been years, you just disappeared from my life! I don't think you have the right to boss me around anymore! We're not fuckin' kids anymore!"

He huffed a sharp exhale, "You seriously don't know? Really that fuckin' oblivious?"

"I can't read minds! Why don't you use your words like a big boy?"

Aaron, one of your longest standing friends and practically your family without blood, just nodded sadly. "I thought it would've been obvious by now," he sighed.

"What're you - "

"I love you," Tan interrupted. "Yeah? I fucking love you."

"Yeah, I know, and I love you, too, Aaron, but that doesn't - "

"No," he interrupted in a snap, face falling, "no, I meant that I'm in love with you. Jesus Christ," his hand wiped down his face, "been in love with you for years now. Maybe it started when you punched Tommy Jenkins in the nose when we were 16, maybe it started when we aged outta the orphanage and got our first apartment together. I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I know I am."

You paused, "A-Are you serious?"

"Deadly. But luckily you've already had a dose of antidote, eh?"

The chuckle you emitted was involuntary. But then, your irritation bubbled, asking, "Why hold it in all this time? And if you were in love with me, why not call? Why abandon me in the first place? I went four years - four, Tan! - without you and Lem, the two people I treasured the most, felt safe with, found a family in. Not a single one of my letters were returned; you deprived me of any phone call, not even a single text! You just disappeared from my life."

He bowed his head, "I had to leave, sweetheart. I couldn't keep yah around."

"Why? Tell me why right now, or we'll go another four years - "

"This job is dangerous, love, bit too dangerous in honesty. You know that, but to have emotional attachments only leads to error and a lot of hurt. I was trying to play it safe, thinking I was protecting you, because if any of our enemies knew how precious you are to me, they'd use you against me - they'd hurt you and I couldn't risk that."

"You can't protect me from everything," you whispered. "Aaron, you and Brian are my family, you always have been. Your whole life, you've protected me from the brutality of life, but you can't protect me from reality any longer. I'm sorry if me working upsets you, but I know what I'm doing, Aaron. I'm not fragile, I won't shatter."

"I know," he sighed, shaking his head. "I know it's irrational, love, but I can't go another day without you. I know it's been four years too long, I thought of you everyday, and never have I had such regret. Walking away from you, doll, it hurt worse than getting shot."

You sighed and avoided his eyes, admitting, "I like to think that in some twisted way, I entered this life in the hope that I'd run into you. Felt like the only way we could see each other since this line of work is so bloody unorthodox."

Tangerine sniffled, "I always wanted to come back, find yah again, but I couldn't risk it. I can't risk you. And listen, if you don't feel the same, that's all right, love, I know I just sprang this one you, but I just needed you to know - "

"Aaron, you need to stop shutting yourself down when you feel vulnerable," you sighed patiently, waiting for him to nod his head silently to indicate for you to continue. "Take a breath and listen to me." Another nod and you revealed, "I've been in love with you, too, since we were teens. I didn't want to disrupt what we have, so I stayed quiet. You and Brian - you're the only ones I care about, the only ones I want in my crazy, chaotic, unpredictable life. Too much time as already passed, we've missed so much, I don't want to miss another minute."

He crowded closer to you, both hands lifting to hold your cheeks and stare into your eyes. "Been waiting ages t'hear that," he whispered.

You smiled softly, "I love you, Aaron. Absolutely, maddeningly, unequivocally in love with you."

He chuckled and returned the sentiment, foreheads brought together before his breath fanned across your lips. He paused to give you time to reject him, but you boldly pushed yourself to meet his lips in a long-awaited kiss that set your heart and soul on fire. Mouths moved in sync, cheeky tongues mingled, teeth gently clanked together as you kissed passionately and without restraint. His hands dropped to hold your waist, your own curling around his neck to gently thread your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck; his curls feeling soft, moisturized, and bouncy.

You were rudely interrupted by your phone, Tan pulling back with a small smirk, "Gonna get that? Might be important."

"Promise 's just Constance," you grumbled, fishing for your phone and stepping away from Tan's embrace. "Hey, love," you greeted.

"Ah! Thank God! You're not shot yet!"

"No, not shot, just stabbed, earned a few bruises but I'm good," you snorted, looking under the seats to locate you gun. "What's up, why're you calling again, I told you I'd call you when I'm good."

"We have new intelligence."

"Lay it on me," you sent Tangerine a look; his face stoic, indicating he was listening intently.

"Your next stop is the last stop that the White Death's men aren't stationed at. If you wanna make a clean getaway, you gotta get off at the next stop. It's your last chance."

You winced, "Uh... About that, so, funny thing..."

"What did you do?"

"You always think the worst of me, I don't always do shit."

"Did you?"

You paused and glanced at the squashed Hornet, shrugging, "Not really, it's just not the cleanest job I've done."

"What happened?"

"You always assume the worst in me."

"You only prove me right."

You chuckled, "Yeah, all right, fair enough. Listen," you sniffled, turning to face Tan, "we don't have the case or the Son..."

"You better fucking find them. After this stop, all others are gonna be too hard to get off at. The White Death has men in position."

"Well... Funny thing, right," you winced, rubbing the back of your neck, "uh, so, it wasn't our fault, but the Son is dead. The Hornet got to him, used Boomslang venom, I got her after so you can register her as deceased."

"Oh, fucking Christ! You fuckin' serious? Please tell me this is just a bad joke."

"Why would I lie?"

You heard Constance take a deep long breath, knowing she was counting to ten in her head to keep her composure. "Okay, Olive, sweetheart," she spoke slowly, "tell me you know where the case is. Please. I need to hear the words."

"Pretty sure Maria's guy lifted it, but no confirmation yet."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Go fucking find him, get that case, and if you don't make the next stop, call me - there's always a backup plan."

"Let's just do Plan B, it'd save a helluva lotta time."

"Olive," Constance growled, "get the Twins, get the fucking case, and get off the fucking train before you all get fucking shot."

You nodded, "Yeah, all right, love, we're on it."

After hanging up, Tan mused, "So, how's Constance?"

"Uh, yeah, no, she's stressed," you cleared your throat. "Wait, how do you know her?"

"Our handler's collaborated with her before."

"Mhm... Okay, just listen, Aaron, I told you the White Death didn't hire me."

"Right."

"Meaning I need that case and I need you and Lem to get off this train with me. We're gonna get to a safe house - "

"No, no, love, we've our own agenda."

"The Son is dead, the case is missing, your job is literally fucked," you reminded sharply. "However, I can still make it worthwhile if we find the case and get off this train. C'mon, love," you pleaded, "you have to trust me. Please, just - don't go through with the last of this job, it's not gonna end well for anyone. But my way means we all get a chance at safety and keeping our lives."

His head shook, "We won't make it in time."

"We can try."

"We need to find Glasses first - and fucking Lemon."

You agreed.

"Looks like your luck's turned around, Joburg," Lemon sneered, the four of you coming to an agreement to take the case, leave the Son's body for the White Death to find, and get to your safe house.

"If it was up to me, we would've left him," Tangerine growled. "Seriously, love, why the fuck did we save him, too?"

"It was the right thing to do, we were all being set up," you explained, surveying the train station. "All right, c'mon, this way."

"So," Ladybug was heard, "you guys are, like, siblings?"

"Who? Us and Olive?" Lemon snickered, watching the blonde man nod. "Sure, mate, something like that."

"Seem real close, the way she risked her life for you two..."

"Well, they say the blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb. 'Course we're gonna look after one another."

The three men followed you, Tangerine keeping a tight hold of the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle. When you made it outside the station without incident or interruption, there was a sleek Range Rover waiting at the curb - an old acquaintance of yours leaning on the grill.

"Olive!" The other agent greeted with a grin.

"Gouda," you returned with enthusiasm, hugging the man. "So nice to see you, thanks for doing this."

"Constance calls, I answer," he nodded, eyeing the three other agents behind you. "Huh... See you made some friends, did yah?"

"Something like that," you mused.

"How's it goin', Gouda?" Lemon asked, making your brows pinch.

"You know each other?" Your eyes shifted between the group.

"Unfortunately," Tangerine nodded with a sigh. "Mate..."

"Yeah, fuck you, too, Tangerine," Gouda sneered. "You know, Olive, your friend fuckin' shot me."

"Did you deserve it?"

Gouda paused, "Doesn't matter. All right, whatever, let's get goin', I'm supposed to get you to the safe house."

Everyone piled into the car, you in the passenger seat to give Gouda a rundown on the train's events. Why you needed the safe house. Why you got off before Kyoto, like was agreed upon. He agreed it was all a mess, telling you the team was still gathering information on the White Death's plan - something in motion that would've ended all your lives. Upon arriving at the safe house, you thanked Gouda, him telling you Constance would arrive in a few days to ensure you lot were smuggled out of the country - not trusting other methods as the White Death had associates planted everywhere.

The house was stalked fully with fresh food in the kitchen, a wall of racked weapons, money in a safe, and reinforced panic rooms in the event of an attack.

"Nice, very nice," Ladybug complimented, looking around the place. "Better than what we've got..."

"Pick your rooms, we'll be here a couple days. My handler's gonna work on getting us outta here without the White Death knowing. Maria negotiated terms for you, Mr. Bug, so you're staying with us."

Everyone spread out, finding the bedrooms fully equipped with new clothes and other necessities, like toiletries. Everyone was able to get long, hot showers, and eventually, when you exited the bathroom in a robe with a towel used to dry your hair, you found Lemon sitting on the living room couch - listening intently to the news report.

"Might wanna see this, love," Brian frowned, making room on the couch for you to sit.

"What's up?"

He nodded at the screen, you watching as a Japanese news station reported on a runaway bullet train that obliterated a local town. Your eyes widened, mindlessly translating the segment; Tangerine eventually joining you two. "What're you two watchin'?" He asked softly, standing behind the couch with his hands on your shoulders. From the opposite door that housed a few other bedrooms, Ladybug entered; the news catching his attention, too.

There was a tension in the air that couldn't be described.

"The White Death sent a fucking bullet train off the rails. All those innocent people..." You whispered, camera crews capturing the devastation and destruction caused. You realized, "He set us all up, he was gonna kill us all."

"Thank God for Constance. What the hell did we do to him, though?" Lemon wondered. "I mean, have any of us actually done a job for or against the White Death before?"

"No clue," Ladybug answered nervously, "but whatever we did, really pissed him off if that's his retaliation. What was the motive, though? Why put us all on the same mission? Same train?"

"Sounds like a vendetta," you answered, the room going silent as everyone contemplated your words. "C'mon, lads, 's been a day. Should get some shut eye."

"Yeah, yeah," Lemon sighed, "good idea. You'll let us know when Constance makes contact?"

You nodded in agreement, bidding them all a goodnight before heading for your designated room. It wasn't more than ten minutes later, you sat on the bathroom floor with an array of medical supplies spread around you in an effort to clean your wounds, when a knock sounded at your door. "Come in," you permitted, tending to a decent sized gash in your hairline.

"You all right?" Tangerine asked softly, leaning in the doorframe of your bathroom. He was dressed down in a pair of joggers and a black wife beater.

"Peachy keen, love."

"You know, this image, right here," he gestured to you, the blood drops on the pristine floor, and all the supplies you required, "is why I didn't want you involved."

You nodded slowly, "Yeah, but it's just the name of the game, you know?"

"Need help?"

"No, I'm about done," you sighed, tightening the gauze around your thigh, "but you can help me up, though."

He smirked and offered his hand, helping hoist you to your feet and sigh as he looked you over. You breezed past him, patting his chest under a blood-stained button up; entering your bedroom and dropping onto the bed to rub your tired feet. You watched Tan follow you, a question on the tip of his tongue that couldn't quite take form.

But Tangerine was a man of action, so he abandoned his words and knelt in front of you; caressing your jaw and cheek to sweep his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You were ready to question his unusually soft demeanor when he leaned in and pressed a sultry kiss to your lips - sucking the breath from your lungs.

You hummed in contentment when he pulled back with a small smirk, whispering, "Been wanting t'do that for ages."

"Took you long enough," you breathed, surging forward to wrap your arms securely around his neck and meet in a messy, passionate kiss that made both your heads spin.

Slowly, you felt Tan rise from his position and moved back on the bed to give him room to crawl over you; kiss never ceasing, only a tangled mess of lips, tongue, and teeth. You moaned with greed when his tongue swept against the seam of your lips, being granted access, letting your mouth mingle and dance together in unbridled passion you weren't even aware Aaron could harness.

"Fuck," you whimpered when he detached from your mouth and started down your neck; licking, scraping his teeth, creating a legion of markings as he went. After years of loving him at a distance, this entire ordeal felt surreal; as if in a dream or alternate universe. His hands squeezed your waist before drifting downward, caressing your hips, hoisting your uninjured leg up his hips before grinding his swelling cock into your pantie-covered cunt.

Your hands daintily fumbled with the material of his shirt, quickly shucking the material from his sculpted torso. You knew he was fit, but seeing him bare like this was something else entirely - mouth salivating, but being unable to truly appreciate him in his glory. You were both littered in bruises and cuts, evidence from fighting the entire night; careful with the injuries, happy with the soft, gentle way you caressed one another.

His hands moved to the tie of your robe, pulling the knot to release; able to slowly push the material aside and look down at your exposed flesh. No bra, no shirt, only a pair of panties under that robe. He licked his lips, meeting your eyes again. "C'mere," he whispered, sitting back, "waited too long, fuckin' hell."

You smirked and sat up, the both of you locking eyes and stripping from your cloth barriers as fast as you could. Reaching for him again, you crashed back into the mound of soft pillows, keeping him close; legs spread to accommodate his slender hips, holding his neck and shoulders to keep him where you wanted.

Tangerine grunted when you reached for his cock, stroking him slowly to full mast. Your lips were sticky, wet tongues wagging against one another to create webs of saliva when he pulled back. Gently knocking your hand away, Tangerine shimmied down your body, lips pressing quick pecks anywhere he could reach; pausing at your nipples and biting harshly.

You yelped with pleasure, back arching, Tangerine smirking at the reaction - mouth covering one breast as his hand pawed at the other to let his fingers pinch and tweak your nipple. His tongue flattened against your sternum, looking up to meet your eyes as he continued down your battered body until his face was nestled between your thighs. "Oh, Jesus fuck!" You moaned when he took his first taste.

He hummed, "Exactly my thoughts. Fuckin' hell, tastes bloody delightful - fuck me." He grunted and dove back in, latching his lips around your clit and using the fingers of his dominant hand to plunge knuckle-deep in your sloppy warmth. "That's a good girl," he praised, using two fingers to pump in and out, in and out, in and out - your body twitching as pleasure mounted to make you unable to lay still. "Mhm, look so fuckin' pretty like this - spread out, all f'me. Can't get tired of this sight," he moaned, lapping at your wetness.

"Aaron," you begged, gripping the curls at the crown of his head, grinding your hips up to his mouth. "Oh, God, yes, yes," you encouraged, breathing turning sharp and shrill. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were and why you were in a safe house; reality melting away when fully enraptured in Tangerine. "There, right there, holy shit," you whimpered when he prodded that one special place of your inner walls.

"Gotcha, love, I gotcha," he mumbled, sucking and flicking his tongue against your pearl as he focused fully on that spongey spot; causing a wave of slick to generate on his tongue. He grunted, bicep flexing as he pumped his digits faster and faster; his other hand laid across your lower belly to hold you in place.

"Shit!" You met a long-awaited crescendo, a little embarrassed by how quick you met your end - having been a few months since you were intimate with anyone.

But my God, none of them compared to Aaron. His body was slick with a light sheen of sweat, his mustache scraping your sensitive bud with his fingers still working against you. You tried to wriggle away, but Tan held you in place, his other hand now holding one of your thighs wide for his benefit. You forgot there were other occupants in the house, moaning and whimpering the longer Aaron lapped at your essence and messily fingered you.

You could've cried from the pleasure, pulling on his curls as a second orgasm washed over you. You, too, were now sweating, stomach knotted and legs beginning to shake slightly; thighs closing around his ears as your muscles contracted.

Tangerine chuckled when he pulled back, taking one more nip at your swollen and sensitive clit; sighing in satisfaction as he looked up at you, evidence of your pleasure smeared around his mouth, chin, and mustache. Cheekily, he wiped around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean while you tried to catch your breath.

"Jesus Christ," you chuckled.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," you grinned, tugging on his curls again to indicate you wanted him back up with you. He didn't waste time to crawl over you, and when in place, you reached for his warm cock to place at your entrance.

"Oi, hang on, gotta rubber - "

"I'm on birth control, we're okay," you rushed. "Unless you're dirty?"

"Nah, love, I don't fuck nobody raw," he smirked, "but there's a first time for everything, huh?" Aaron laughed almost cruelly when he pushed his hips forward and notched his cock's head inside you, pausing a single moment to watch your reaction as he sunk deeper to stretch you out.

Maybe you had been depriving yourself all these years, Tan's cock being a size, length, and girth you've not handled before. Nobody compared, your cunt weeping with joy at finally having a challenge worthwhile; his balls swinging before being trapped between your bodies. He made a noise, a mix of a moan and whimper, readjusting his hold on you so he held one thigh and the other was supporting his weight by your head.

Your hand laid on his waist, the other around his neck; eyes locked in a passionate connection when he began moving. Your mouth opened in shock, huffing for air, unable to look away - blue eyes pinning you in place. His mouth descending onto yours, rolling his hips to create friction; cock head prodding your gummy walls as the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed with each movement. You lifted a hand to hold his cheek, tongues swirling around one another, Aaron increasing his pace a fraction.

Your nails dug into his flesh, leaving trails of raised, red scratches in their wake - yet it was as if he didn't even notice. "Know I love you, yeah?" Aaron whispered, veins in his neck protruding; heart hammering.

"Yeah," you nodded, wanting him impossibly closer, "yeah, Aaron, I love you, too, holy shit."

Maybe emotional intimacy turned you on more than you ever realized. He clenched his teeth, both hands pressed onto the mattress to support himself as he started to thrust faster. "Not gonna last, love, not with the way you're squeezin' me," he warned, a few stray curls falling over his forehead, his golden medallion swinging and knocking gently against your chin. "Jesus, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he rambled, "like you were fuckin' made for me - Goddamnit."

"We're idiots for waiting so long," you moaned.

"Won't ever be that stupid again," he laughed gently, looking down between you to watch himself disappear and reappear in and out of you; coated in your slick, veins of his cock now throbbing as he felt the familiar coil begin to tighten.

His thumb pressed to your clit and rubbed, your moans getting louder and longer; own hands groping your breasts and tweaking your nipples to add to the sensations Tangerine provided. "Baby," you whined, "'M close - "

"Get there, love, c'mon," he begged, "can't hold back - wanted this f'so long, fuck!" One hand slapped his away to let you control your clit, Tangerine grinning, "Naughty girl. Shit, that's a sight, innit?"

"Don't stop!"

Aaron growled, pinching his brows in concentration as he snapped his hips, the sounds of his balls slapping against you clapping around the room; mingling with your moans, groans, whimpers, and the thick smell of sex that hung in the air. "Feels so fuckin' good," he mumbled, straining himself to resist. "Tight and warm, Jesus fuck, my love, you're perfect - so fucking perfect - Goddamnit."

"There, there, there," you chanted, rubbing your clit vigorously while Aaron dissolved his restrain to hammer into your core with sloppy movements. "Yes, oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes! Please, Aaron, yes, right there, baby, please - don't stop!"

"Fuckin' cum for me, c'mon, love, let it go," he growled, teeth scraping over your collarbone before latching in a gentle bite on your shoulder. "That's it, there it is," Aaron moaned, feeling the restrictive flutter of your cunt, "good girl, good fuckin' girl, that's it."

Your mind went blank, unable to process anything other than Aaron's cock still hammering into you at a brutal pace; the entire bed creaking and rattling against the wall. You whimpered, lips parting when he didn't stop, encouraging, "Need you t'cum, baby, please. Wanna feel you in me - want your cum, fucking need it. C'mon, Aaron, c'mon, love, finish in me - fucking fill me, please, I need it."

"Yeah? Need it?" He grunted, cheeks flushing.

"So bad, need your cum so bad!"

He grit his teeth, humping all the faster before the warmth of your cavern became too much. "Shit!" Tangerine shouted, taking two more rolling thrusts before fully sheathing himself in you as rope of sticky, thick cum painted your inner walls. "Oh, holy hell," he panted, keeping himself still but his arms trembling to support himself as he pulled back only slightly. "All right?" He checked, glancing to where you two were conjoined. "You good?"

"Perfect," you nodded, petting up and down his sides as if entranced and in disbelief this happened. He felt so soft all of a sudden, a stark contrast to his stoic and aggressive personality. "You all right?"

He grunted and retracted his hips, cock springing free to let him crash on the bed beside you; both your lungs working in tandem to attempt to even out. "Absolutely, so fuckin' good," he told you, both staring at the ceiling for a moment before his head turned to look at you. He grinned slyly, chuckling, "That really happened?"

"Think so."

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," he mused. "Stay put a second, love," he whispered, standing from the bed to venture into the bathroom. After a moment, he returned with a warm and damp washcloth, helping you clean up the cum leaking from your cunt; wiping away the messiness. He cleaned himself as well, you crawling under the covers of the bed - not bothering to redress.

When Tan joined you again, he snuggled into the sheets and opened his arm to welcome you into his side. It was weird, you usually hated sleeping with anyone, finding it too hot and restrictive, but laying there with Tangerine, you felt incredibly at peace.

"You know Constance isn't gonna be here for a couple days," you mentioned casually.

"Uh-huh."

"Think I just found our past time."

"Oh, darlin'," Tangerine chuckled, "we're not leavin' this bed."

"We'll have to eat."

"Least that Ladybug twat can do is bring us our food, eh?"

But you paused to consider something, laid on his chest and idly tracing the scars on his beefy chest. "Hey, Aaron?" You whispered.

"Hmm? What is it, love?"

"What's gonna happen when we leave here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, here, in Japan, we're together... But when we go home t'London, back to reality, what's gonna happen?"

"What? You mean, with us?"

"Yeah."

He snickered, "Why would anything change, love? I'm not just in love with you, here, in Japan, but everywhere - wholeheartedly. So, when we go back, we make this work. No matter what it takes."

"Really?"

Aaron grinned, "'Course, love. Went four long years without even seein' yah, I have no plans t'let you go again - not so soon, not ever." He stretched and tucked his free arm behind his head, "You're stuck with me, doll. That all right with you?"

You grinned up at him, "Perfect by me."

His lips found yours again, starting a very noisy night that made both Lemon and Ladybug clamp pillows over their ears.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[voxmortuus]

I have a very specific DARKFIC request for you with a pretty serious trigger warning.

Tangerine and non-con with a virgin fem reader. Eventually the reader starts to enjoy it as the scene caries out. Bonus points for pet name use and a splash of breeding kink.

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Dark!Tangerine x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Bullet Train ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2.6k ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Virgin Reader | Rough Intercourse | Hitting | Spitting | Choking | Hair Pulling | Bleeding | Degradation | slamming readers into bathroom wall | Pressing readers head against the wall | Taking it from behind | NON-CONSENSUAL UNPROTECTED INTERCOURSE | Eventual consent with reader enjoying the scene | Mention of Cock warming | Eager to please Reader | Pet name | Breeding Kink | Cream Pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ DISCLAIMER: *̥˚✧ DO NOT ROMANTICISE OR GLAMORIZE SERIAL KILLERS OR RAPE! I do not condone these actions, nor do I support them! This was written upon request. Do NOT send me hate mail, you will be blocked, do not post on this with any sort of negativity you will be blocked. If you don’t like it don’t read it it’s that simple!!! If you ever encounter this in real life please contact the Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline. Please understand this is a fanfiction, think of it like Hollywood. Also, I’m sorry if this is horrible….. ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well, I hope this hits all the right notes with you. ✧*̥˚ IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It's like his nose was a hound dog for that virgin blood. Watching you sit there on the train in an empty car you were reading your most current favorite book The Terminal List by Jack Carr, with your earbuds in listening to the latest song you were hooked on by Ice Nine Kills. You were minding your own business when this man dressed sharply sits across from you. Looking up you give him a polite smile and went back to your book.

After a brief observation of the man sitting across from you, you noticed he had blood on his shirt, but you didn't think much of it. Sure alarming, but it was what it was, especially these days. Licking your lips, you turn the page. You feel these eyes on you. You glance up and sure enough, he's looking at you like you were some delicious snack. You give a slightly tense smile and look back down at your book.

You start to feel uncomfortable; your heart is racing; your mind is focused less on the book and music and more on this strange man sitting across from you staring you down. You lick your lips once more before you gather your small backpack and excuse yourself. You feel him watching you, but you don't look back, you just keep going.

Upon excusing yourself, you head toward the bathroom. Closing yourself in there you try and calm your nerves. You look over yourself in the mirror and shake yourself a bit and let out a slow breath. You plan to go back out after a few more moments and move to a different car.

After fixing your makeup, you finally get your nerves calm enough to return to the car. Opening the bathroom door, you walk right into his chest, and you stumble a moment.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." You say softly.

He didn't say anything. He gripped your throat and moved you back into the bathroom closing the door and locking it.

"Excuse me... no. Let me out." You state firmly.

"Babydoll, you need to be relax and be polite." He smirks.

"You need to fuck off... no." You state trying to push past him.

He pushed you back against the wall and shook his head and licked at his lips. "I don't think so Babydoll."

"I'm not you're Babydoll, and you need to back off." You state firmly, but it appears he's not listening.

You try and push him off you but his strength wasn't letting that happen. His hand starts to roam your body.

"What the fuck! Stop it!" you snap.

"You need to shut up." He states as he slams you against the wall.

Turning you around he reaches around and slips his hand under your shirt groping you. He lets out a soft groan against your neck. You begin to panic and pushing back but he keeps you in place with his forearm.

"Stop... please stop." You plead.

He hears you, but he doesn't listen, and he moves from your chest to slipping his hand into your leggings and realizes you're not wearing any panties and he smirks.

"Such an easy little slut you are huh?" He muses.

"Please don't do this." you beg. Your eyes well with tears. Closing your eyes tears drop.

"Oh come on now Babydoll, I love when they cry..." He purrs into your ear as he starts to massage your bud.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind running miles a minute. You try and choke back tears, but you feel like you can't breathe, and you try and fight him off but he's just keeping you there.

Closing your eyes you let out a soft breath and you attempt to push yourself away again, trying to escape from it all, your mind races, your heart pounds, your eyes crying.

"Please, please don't do this. I'm begging you. I'll give you whatever you want, but please stop." You plead.

"Oh Babydoll, you're going to give me exactly what I want." He smirked as he pressed himself against you.

Was he hard? Oh geez... oh no, yes, yes he was and then you knew your fate. He slips your leggings down as he presses your head against the wall. Your breathing quickens. You had no idea what to expect, you were saving yourself for the right person, the right moment, and here he was getting ready to rob you of that, to take it all away from you.

Thoughts ran through your head. Why you? Why now? Why this? What did you do to deserve this? Why won't he listen? All these on repeat, and it wouldn't stop. Why won't he stop? Why is he doing this?!

Trying to find your words to plead you turn around to try and push him but he is quick to slap you across the face and it causes your lip to bleed. You whimper a moment, and you try and fight back but he again, slams you against the bathroom wall. With a hand around your throat he spins you back around and slams you against the wall again.

"God damn it Babydoll, be a good girl." He snarls into your ear.

Moving from your neck to your hair he grips a hand full of your hair and moves you so he can position himself, but you fight. He snarls again before he says fuck it, and shoves his hard cock between your virgin lips and rips your innocence from you in one swift thrust.

You scream, in pain, the snapping, the hot pinch of pain, the searing hot rush hits you and you take in a jagged breath.

"No... no no no! Stop! PLEASE!" you plead but there is no stopping.

You try and fight him, but with him pinning you against the wall you can't escape him. His thrusts become quick, they become hard, and they hurt. His growling his snarling, his grunts and groans fill the bathroom and all you want is to be let go, return to your seat, read your book, listen to your music, that of which was now on the floor from the fighting. Your ear buds letting the music escape from them freely while you're being held hostage against this bathroom wall.

You begin to cry, hard, but this only seems to fuel him even more. Why was this happening right now. You begin to breathe heavily in panic. Your chest moving rapidly with each thrust, it wasn't out of enjoyment, it was out of panic, and anger, and aggression. He tilts your head back and your mouth opens only for him to spit in your mouth. You growl and spit back but he slams your head against the bathroom wall as his thrusts become harder.

You try and find your happy spot, but it wasn't working, everything was becoming too much. You couldn't get your mind to focus. So you focus on what's around you. The buttons for the toilet, the scent of the bathroom, the scent of him, the scent of blood... wait, blood? Oh, yeah... blood... that happens in moments like this. And then you feel angry again. This hot rush of anger hits you and you start to fight again.

"LET ME GO!" You start to fight again. Trying to push him away. But with the angle he's got you at makes it difficult.

"Babydoll, shut up." He growls. "You can fight all you want, you're giving me nothing but a harder cock." He smirks.

You growl and try and fight but that wasn't happening. His thrusts were hard, rigid, painful, your hips felt like they couldn't withstand the thrusts. You take in a jagged breath, you clench your jaw and you try and jerk your head with his hand in your hair and he only slams your head against the wall again.

You feel this daze hit you, one too many slams against the wall, you feel this tingling in your nose as he starts to thrust a little slower. Was he taking his time? You close your eyes trying to find that happy place, but all you can feel and see and focus on was his face, and how he felt stretching your virgin cunt. You clench your jaw breathing out of your nose.

You didn't want to think about it. You didn't want to feel this, you wanted this bubbling feeling to go away. You clenched your jaw and attempted to think of something else. The harder he thrust, the slower he took, the more your mind focused on the way it felt, how his cock felt slipping in and out just enough to tease the length. You actually felt yourself getting wet and you clench your walls around him. Not out of pleasure, but out of hopes of stopping yourself of getting wet, you didn't like it, you didn't want it.

You wanted to save it... but there was no saving anything. You hated him, you were angry with him, you hated him, you wanted to kill him... to rip his heart out and eat it with a side of french fries. You sniffle as you try and regain yourself and pushing back against him he shoves you forward again, his thrusts deep, slow, almost teasingly slow. What was he doing? Oh no, no he knew what he was doing. He wanted you to cave, but you weren't going to. You didn't want to.

This wasn't a game, this was a fight, and you wanted him to stop, taking all the stops but you weren't able to move, you felt this sense of defeat, accepting what it was. You just stood there, as he used you.

"That's it Babydoll... acceptance. You're tight little cunt feels so good... that tight little cunt belongs to me now. It's now molded for my cock. I'll be keeping you close Babydoll, use you whenever I want." He purred against your ear with a slight snarl.

You had no words, but why were they doing something to you, why were they making you feel conflicted. Why were you liking this? Your breathing picked up. You bite your lip a little harder.

"I'm going to breed you, fill you every day. Use you like the little slut fleshlight you are." He mused.

Okay now that did something. You whimper softly. Biting your lip, your hips spread a bit as you arch back a bit taking in more of him. He doesn't say anything in this moment, you just take his cock, focusing back on the feel of it, focusing on the way it fit inside you just right. Focusing on how it made you feel, you feel yourself loosen up around him, feeling yourself getting wetter.

"You...you... want to breed me?" You ask with an almost timid voice.

"I'm going to breed the fuck out of you Babydoll. You like that?" He asked.

You think a moment and nod. "Are you going to fill me up?" You ask.

He laughs with a slight groan. "Whenever I want." He purrs against your ear again.

You focus on the things around you, and you realize the title of the next song. Dirty Thoughts by Chloe Adams. You bite your lip and you let out a soft whimper, feeling how long he was, how wide he was, how he stretched you, you think about his words, how he wanted to use you, how he breathed, how he wanted to breed you. Your breathing picks up a little more.

It went from you hating this moment, to you starting to enjoy this moment.

"I want you to use me... to breed me... to fill me up..." You admit.

The thought of it, dripping his seed from your cunt was something that actually really turned you on. Biting your bloodied bruised lip you let out a soft moan as you spread your legs a little more letting him slip deeper and you press your ass toward him letting him take even more.

"That's it Babydoll, take more of my cock." He growled as he started to thrust upward into you.

You gaps feeling him slip fulling into you, feeling him hit right to the base of his shaft.

"You're so big... you feel.... you feel..." you don't want to say it.

"I feel what Babydoll?" He asked.

"You feel good... I like how you fill up my virgin pussy." You state. Where was this smut coming from? Where was this seeping from? Must have been all the fanfiction you were reading before coming on this train. "Please... fuck me a little slower... I want to feel all of you." You plead.

He blinked a few times and smirked. "My pleasure Babydoll." He mused.

Slowing his thrusts, you think a moment and you reach down to slip your pants off your leg.

"I want to face you.... please... I want you to face me and fuck me." You plead.

He smirks and pulls from you. This moment you could run, but you slip the pantleg off and place your hands on his shoulders and he lifts you and presses you against the wall, noticing the bruising on the side of your face, the blood from your lip, he leans forward and licks at your chin and sucks on your lip as he slips his cock back inside your slightly bleeding wet drippy cunt.

You let out a soft moan against his lips as you wrap your legs around his waist and feel him thrust deeper within your walls. They begin to message him.

You rest your head against the wall behind you. Your hands move from his shoulders to play at the hairline at his neck. As he bounces you against his cock your bud is rubbing against him and the sensation is overwhelming. You let out a loud moan. Feeling yourself getting wetter you close your eyes as they roll back. You whimper and moan rather loudly.

"That's it Babydoll, enjoy yourself." He smirks.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck... breed me... fuckin hell breed me. Pump me full." You moan loudly.

He looks over you and tilts his head and smirks as he picks up his pace, thrusting faster, harder, deeper. You feel yourself getting close. You clench your jaw as you drop your head against his shoulder. Your breathing quickens, he begins to pick up his pace a little more, his breathing, his moans quicken as he pumps into you.

"FUCK!" you scream as your body begins to shake.

Never experiencing pleasure like this, you were going to quickly get addicted. He slams you down on his cock.

"Fill me! FILL MY CUNT! BREED ME!" you scream.

He chuckles. "An eager Babydoll you are... I'm going to enjoy filling you up everyday." he smirked as he gave a few more slams and lets out a heavy groan.

Your body shook as you just let everything go. Your whole body just releases and takes his hot ribbons of breeding seed. You scream with a finish as he continues to pump his load into you.

You grip at his hair a moment, your breathing erratic, your mind calm and quiet, your body tingling, sore, and euphoric. Everything felt good and sore at the same time.

"Fuck..." You pant. You look over him. "Do you have a name?" You ask him.

"Sir works just fine, Babydoll." He smirks.

You tilt your head and smirk. "Does this mean I'm all yours now?" You ask.

He looks at you and smirks. "With a mouth like that, damn fuckin straight it does Babydoll." He states with confidence.

"Can we do this again soon?" You ask.

"Are you going to fight me next time?" he asked.

"No... but maybe I can make you hard and I can sit on it while we wait for the next stop?" You ask.

"Cock warming may be a little too advanced for you." he smirked.

"And this wasn't? I'll warm your cock, and you can fill me up again." You smirk.

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Tagging: @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey gal just read rose tinted view and absolutely need more sweet wife and tangerine please but with more of tan in it can just imagine this stone cold hearted killer and this sweet gem of a woman with their newborn baby a nice sunny day in the park or something and tan is spotted by an ex enemy or something and all the ex enemy can think of is how someone so kind and sweet and doted on tan and their baby can be with someone like tangerine and tan being all protective of his wife and new born when she’s inviting this stranger ( his ex enemy maybe ladybug ) to join them and letting said stranger hold their newborn daughter 🥺🥺🥺

hi baby!! omg this is perfect and super cute!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

link for rose-tinted view if anyone’s interested

SWEET WIFE, SWEET LIFE.

dad tangerine x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 651

Warm and sunny days naturally called for a quaint picnic in the park - you and your little family sat upon a blanket under a tree, containers of fresh fruit and snacks littered across. Your newborn baby girl, Mandy, on her back in the middle, surrounded by the pots.

Tangerine was on his side, head propped up on his elbow til he suddenly sits up - the motion almost abrupt.

"What?" you ask, following your husband's eyeline. "What is it?"

"Keep your head down," he mutters. "Don't look— oh, great. He's coming over."

"Who is he? Do you know him?" you question, turning away from the approaching man to meet the displeased look on Tangerine's face. 

"Met him on a job— right twat," he shakes his head, moving closer to his daughter as if he was trying to protect her. 

"Tokyo one?" you ask. 

He hums, the noise short, more like a 'humph'.

"Not interested," Tangerine grunts, holding his hand out to the man - not wanting him to come closer. 

"Abducting families now?" the man quips, looking between you and your baby. 

"No, now fuck off," Tangerine replies, eyes narrowing.

You flash him a soft, scolding glare before turning to look at the man. "Excuse my husband," you laugh faintly, patting the blanket for the man to sit. "You met on the Tokyo assignment, right? It's Ladybug?"

"Yeah," he nods, taking a seat on the blanket. "We worked together."

"No, we didn't. And what do you think you're doing?" Tangerine snarks, staring Ladybug down. 

You lightly tap your husband's knee, silently reassuring him. 

"Your husband has a terrible temper," Ladybug chuckles, helping himself to the bag of nuts. "Tried to kill me a couple times, too."

You cover your baby's ears and turn to face Tan. "You tried to kill him?" you whisper, scolding him.

"He tried to kill me too," he protests, glaring down his acquaintance. "The bastard shot me in the shoulder, remember?"

"I've forgiven him," Ladybug says, turning to look at you, holding a hand over his heart. "Resentment isn't good for the soul. I've moved on. I've put Tokyo behind me. Barry— my therapist, helped me process all—"

"Enough about your fuckin' therapist," Tangerine interrupts. He turns to look at you, eyes silently pleading you for help. "Seriously, I can't listen to him talk about Barry again. I will lose it. Darlin', I will lose it."

"Okay, okay," you coo, squeezing your lover's knee. "How about some sandwiches?" you ask, looking between the guys - trying to ease the apparent tension. 

And just as you're about to reach for the cooler, Mandy makes a soft, sniffled-like cry, both you and Tan immediately reaching to comfort her. Your daughter putting a hold on the animosity between old rivals.

"Do you mind?" Ladybug questions, reaching for your newborn. "I'm great with babies."

You feel Tangerine stiffen upon his questioning, his reluctance as clear as day. But you give him an assuring tap, softly smiling as you nod - trying to comfort him as you scoop up your baby. You place her into Ladybug's cradled arms, brushing over her soft cheek as you pull away.

"Oh, she's perfect," Ladybug whispers, looking down at your daughter. "She has this beautiful energy about her— I can feel it. It's incredible."

You lean into Tangerine's shoulder, slipping your hand into his and bringing it to your face - pressing a kiss into the back of it. He's hesitant, but finally, he gives in —even just a little bit— resting his head atop yours. He's still alert and protective of his daughter but retreats slightly as he watches his baby - keeping his mouth closed to soak in the moment. 

Ladybug looks up and glances between you and Tangerine. "You're blessed, man. I don't know how you pulled it off," he chuckles, looking back down to your daughter. "You have a beautiful family."

I changed it so tan didn’t get shot in the throat, did the shoulder instead. im like god, holding the multiverse and alternate storylines in my hands