#th: as a tangerine

[aquamanandfriends]

As A Tangerine

| muse: Dylan Sexton-Bradbury | open to: females | sexuality: homosexual | suggested connections: friend, a girl who has a crush on him, she just kissed him, maybe a guy set him up with a girl

It all happened so quickly, he hadn’t seen it coming, “You do know I’m gay right?” Dylan nearly shrieked when the girl’s lips touched his. He backed away quickly. “Oh my god–oh my god…” He was putting everything together finally, “Did you think this was a date?”

[khaotunq]

A Scene for a Scene: Kieta Hatsukoi Episode 1 (2021, Japan) ♥ My Love Mix-Up! Episode 1 (2024, Thailand)

[edwardashley]

working on the slight size kink/slight feederism fic. me making the sickos dot jpeg face when i write about Tangerine grabbing the fat rolls on Lemon’s belly. he’s making goo-goo eyes like when a guy sees naked boobs for the first time but its about his boyfriends tummy. :) too hot to handle.

[wlwgang]

If there is ever a dream thieves film of any kind $uicideboy$ NEED to be on that mf track can u imagine

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - y/n jane porter (you) decides to prove men wrong by searching for the lost man, and you happen upon him after insulting a bunch of baboons, only to realise that you will never leave again.

warning - smut, dubcon, chase, marking, insulting animals, swearing, oral sex, creampie, kidnapping/held hostage?

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You huffed as you stalked the forest, searching for a man who had been lost to the world. Explorers have searched high and low for him but have yet to succeed. You were determined to be different, to prove to them that you could find the lost man. Secretly though, you knew he would be feral, not even knowing what a woman was and the pleasure you could bring him. You hiked up your light yellow dress, white-gloved hands scrunching the material between your fists. You spin when you hear a sound, looking up into the trees, and your eyes widen when you notice the many baboons staring down at you. 

“Oh, hello.” You look closer, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose. “You’re quite ugly creatures, aren’t you?” You stumble back when they begin to screech, looking ready to attack, and you put your hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just…” Your words are lost to them, and you start running as some of them jump from the trees and chase you, the others swinging through the branches. You pick up your pace, dodging trees and rocks, trying your best not to trip or get caught. You feel your breath shorten, and your lungs burn. A scream escapes you as your foot gets caught on a root, but before you can fall, something or someone grabs you, swinging you away from the baboons. 

You screw your eyes shut, not daring to look at what had grabbed you, feeling it would be better if you didn’t see what fate had planned for you. Your brows scrunched as you felt whoever or whatever was placing you down softly, and your eyes widened when you opened them, noticing the man everyone had been searching for. The lost man had saved you from being torn to shreds, and the excitement caused a jolt between your legs. You scanned his physic, noticing how tanned and beautiful he looked. Your eyes landed on his face lastly, eyeing the moustache and imagining what it would feel like in between your thighs, his unbrushed hair all curled and wild, like him. 

Tangerine’s head tilts, doing the same to you. He was curious, never having seen someone like you before. He’s seen others that look like him, but none so… Beautiful, so soft looking. He licked his lips, scanning you like you were a meal for him to feast on. He glared when you lifted your hand, and you returned it with a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you… I’m Y/n Jane Porter. Do you have a name?” Tangerine grunts, lifting his hand and cautiously placing it against yours, thinking of his words. You squeeze your legs together at his touch, causing his eyes to snap down to the sweet nectar that lies between your thighs. 

Tangerine’s hand moves from yours and taps his chest. “Tangerine.” Your eyes widen as the words fall from his lips, and you offer a soft smile.

“Like the fruit?” Your head tilts, knowing another name that would fit him. Tarzan stays on the tip of your tongue as you watch him.

He grunts again and stops, looking around before roughly grabbing you, causing a gasp to pass your lips. “Danger.” He growls. You are lifted onto the large man’s shoulders again as he begins to swing away just in time as the baboons swing, missing you by inches. Tangerine lands roughly on the ground. After a while of swinging and making sure you were no longer being followed, he lets you get off of him. You fall as your legs feel shaky, and you stumble back. He spins, eyeing you more, gazing at your exposed legs. 

You clear your throat, brushing the dirt from your dress. “Thank you again.” Your chest moves up and down as you breathe heavily. You try and keep your eyes from looking at the bulge hidden behind the tiny cloth. Tangerine’s eyes lock to your heaving chest. You watch as they become black, filling with feral lust. He stalks towards you, backing you into a tree. You feel your cunt pulse, the large man turning you on. “W–what are you doing?” You gulp, squeezing your thighs together when he traps you against the wood.

“Me do you.” Tangerine growls. He grabs your hips, dragging you onto the ground and climbing over you. “Stay… Still.” He grunts, trapping you with his large body and rubbing his bulge against your dripping cunt. Tangerine had never felt something so incredible, and he hadn’t even explored that far yet. He sits on his legs, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust and hunger, growling as your dress becomes annoying. Tangerine grips the material, shredding it and causing you to squeal and squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Annoying” You don’t know why, but this feral man's few words turn you on. 

You whimper, subconsciously spreading your legs for him, watching his mouth open and close as he glares between your legs, watching your pretty pussy drip. Tangerine growls as he dives in, lapping at your sweet cunt. Your back arches, and you let out a scream that echoes through the many trees. Your hands curl into the ground, legs slamming shut around his head as he continues to feast on your cunt, licking and sucking, wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl and sucking, flicking the sensitive little bud with his tongue. You move your hand into his hair, gripping the untamed locks, pulling him closer. “O–Oh! That feels so good!” You exclaim, feeling the band inside you tighten, ready to snap. “Keep going, please!” Your eyes screw shut, and your toes curl, but suddenly everything stops, and you open them again. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?” You felt furious, sexually frustrated. This was the most pleasure you had felt in your entire life, and you couldn’t let it slip from your fingertips. 

Tangerine growls and your eyes widen when you watch him grab himself. The tiny cloth has tented massively and keeps nothing hidden. He rips the pathetic material from his body and throws it aside, tilting his head as you make an embarrassingly loud choking sound. You look at him and back to his cock repeatedly, staring with your mouth open. “That’s not going to fit inside me.” Even as you say those words, your walls clench as you watch his cock twitch. 

Tangerine grunts, shrugging. He crawls on top of you, forcefully placing your legs onto his shoulder and tapping your gaping hole with his swollen tip. “Fit.” You gasp as he begins to push in, his hair covering his face as he puts his head down, never having felt something so good. “Good” The grunt he lets out causes you to clench around him and his hips to thrust forward, forcing his way deeper inside you. Your head rolls back into the dirt, closing your eyes as he picks up his pace, releasing the animal buried deep inside of him. Tangerine slams hard and fast into you, his cock so large it feels like he’s in your stomach. If possible, the bulge that forms causes him to become even more feral.

Your hands fly up and grip his arms, digging your nails into him before whimpering when he pulls out and flips you around, pushing your face into the dirt and lifting your hips before plunging back into you, grunting and growling as he fucks you like an animal. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll back, clawing into the ground and clutching onto it, trying to find something to ground yourself too. Tangerine grips your hips, pounding against you, moaning when he feels you grip his cock like a vice, dragging him deeper into you and allowing him to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “Ah! Oh! Fuck… Right there!” You whine, fucking and grinding your hips back into him, wanting to feel him more. 

Tangerine pulls out again, your mind too fuzzy to get angry as he grabs you and pushes you against the tree, wrapping your legs around his waist and reentering your sweet cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucks up into you, his lips against your neck, marking you as his. You are so close, feeling your walls pulsate and clench around the feral man, feeling so dirty and full. “I–I’m close!” Tangerine grunts, slamming harder into you, pinning you against the tree, not caring if the bark marks your flesh. Your vision goes white, and your body goes slack in his arms as your orgasm rips through you, squeezing his cock and coating it with your cream.

A growl rips through the large man. Tangerine bites into your shoulder, fucking deeper as he feels his balls tighten. He had only experienced this when he’d touch himself, teasing his cock and balls until he was close to cumming before stopping and repeating. He knew the release would feel amazing, causing him to continue to thrust, his hand moving between your bodies, locating your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing. Your back arches, causing another orgasm to rip through you, and Tangerine groans, releasing his cum deep inside you, filling you with thick amounts as you squeeze his cock.

Your head slumps against his chest, your chest moving up and down heavily as you try and catch your breath. Your walls pulsate around his still-hard cock, wondering how he could still be ready for more. Tangerine cups the back of your neck, grunting as he makes you look at him. He grins, leaning close as he slowly begins to thrust again. “Mine.” 

The growl can still be heard as you realise you will never be able to leave again, but maybe that was a good thing.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[chibinasuu]

Good Mornings | Sanji x Reader

Part of the Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

Other parts: { Sanji (here) | Nami | Usopp | Chopper | Zoro }

Summary: It became a habit for you to wake up early and accompany Sanji in the kitchen as he prepares breakfast for the crew Word count: 781  Tags: F!Reader, one-shot, pure fluff, domestic bliss onboard the sunny, platonic straw hat pirates x reader, main pairing could be interpreted as platonic or romantic, no use of y/n

edit a/n: oh wow! didn’t expect to get 80+ notes within a day of posting this, not to mention this is my first ever op fic, so thanks! i’m making this “slice-of-life moments on the sunny” thing into a series with all of the straw hats so stay tuned!! update: some of the other parts are now uploaded and linked above! please do give those a read if you enjoyed this :)

Mornings on the Sunny belong to you and Sanji.

It started one day when a particularly bumpy wave roused you from your slumber. You groaned when you saw that the sky was still dark outside. The clock on your bedside read 4:47 AM. You tossed and turned for a good 20 minutes before accepting that you were not gonna be able to fall back asleep again. 

You sighed and got up, wrapping your blanket around you as you padded barefoot to the kitchen. Your plan was to just grab some coffee and return back to your room, but you stilled at the doorway when you saw Sanji already up and in the middle of preparing today’s breakfast. 

You felt the corners of your lips turn up in a soft smile as you watched him peel some tangerines from Nami’s tree – harvested with her permission, of course – whilst humming an unfamiliar tune. A cigarette sat unlit between his lips. 

The slight creak of the dining room floor as you stepped into the room startled him, but he relaxed when he saw it was you. 

“Good morning, my sweet! Why are you up so early in the morning?”

“The rocking of the ship woke me up earlier and I couldn’t fall back asleep,” you shrugged, “so I’m here for some coffee.”

You moved to grab the kettle, but Sanji beat you to it and ushered you to sit at the kitchen bar instead. 

Sanji winked at you, “One coffee, coming right up!” 

The aroma of coffee brewing soon permeated the air, filling you with a sense of comfort. You were not exactly a morning person, but at that moment, you thought that you could probably get used to this. 

“Thanks,” you smiled with gratitude as Sanji slid the mug filled with the dark liquid across the bar to you.

Sanji smiled back, “Anything for you,” and returned to his cooking. 

You sipped the coffee slowly as you watched the sun rise above the horizon, its rays seeping in through the dining room windows. You know it won’t be long until the others wake up. Then, the Sunny will again be filled with chatter, and not to mention, Luffy’s thunderous demand for breakfast. You enjoyed the rowdiness of the crew, but you also found yourself savoring the peace of the morning. The kitchen was quiet, safe for the soft clanging of Sanji’s cooking. 

Brook was the first one up among the others. You heard him tuning his violin on the lawn, before playing a sweet rendition of Binks’ Sake that acts as a morning alarm for some of your crew members. 

One by one, the Straw Hats filed into the dining room, extending their ‘good mornings’ with varying degrees of alertness. Franky and Robin strolled in fully awake and dressed, whilst Chopper and Usopp were still in their pajamas, yawning and rubbing sleep from their eyes. By 9 AM, everyone but Luffy was seated around the table. Sanji dished out crepes with tangerine sauce, as well as an assortment of the crew’s favorite dishes. Sandwiches, onigiri, bacon, sausages – the plates kept on coming, and you wondered how one person managed to cook this heaping feast each and every day. 

“SANJI!! BREAKFAST!!”

The crew chuckled as the captain’s booming voice echoed through the hallway. Luffy launched himself into his seat at the head of the table, and finally, the crew indulged in their first meal of the day. 

The next day, you woke up at 5 AM – on purpose this time – and sauntered into the kitchen. 

When Sanji saw you, his face lit up in a mixture of surprise and joy. 

“Good morning, my dearest! What did I do to deserve the company of such a beautiful lady again on this fine morning?”

He reached for the kettle as you laughed and returned his greeting, “Good morning to you too, Sanji.”

“Coffee?” He offered. 

“Yes, please.” You replied whilst making your way to sit at the kitchen bar. 

Morning after morning, you joined Sanji in the kitchen. Some days you exchange playful banter with each other. Some days you don’t talk at all, just enjoying the tranquility of each other’s company. Some days he even let you help around with small tasks during breakfast preparation, after much nagging and insistence from you. 

So now, mornings on the Sunny belong to you and Sanji. 

Now, you wake up not with a groan, but with a smile and anticipation, even when the sun has not yet risen. Because you know Sanji will be there in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hand and a sweet smile on his face,

“Good morning, my darling!”

Other parts: { Sanji (here) | Nami | Usopp | Chopper | Zoro }

[msmk11]

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

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

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.4k

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

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

Everything was really, really good.

So of course you had to go and ruin it.

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

And why did you have to catch feelings for Tangerine?

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

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

What’s one supposed to do?

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

So of course that’s exactly what you do.

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

Is it too early for a drink?

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

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

Tangerine begins to walk towards the door.

“Wait!” you call out.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart sinks in your chest.

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

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

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

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

*****

Tangerine glares after you as you storm off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

You hope that it’s working.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll see.”

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

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

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Damn this man is smooth.

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

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure. Surprise me though.”

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

But not as per-

Nope.

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit, this is good.”

“Told you.”

“Can I know what it is now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, get your hands off her!”

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

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

Tangerine.

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

Tangerine comes stalking towards you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tangerine, go. home,” you growl.

“Yeah fucking right I-“

“Just let me take him,” Matt interrupts.

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

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

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

The blonde’s eyes narrow.

“Physically, at least.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m calling Lemon.”

With shaky hands you dial his number.

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

“Lemon, come get your fucking brother.”

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tangerine.

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

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

“Fuck me,” he groans in pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I forgot about this picture,” he rasps.

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

“Can I- can I sit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grovels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tangerine,” you whisper.

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

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

[peachsukii]

Hollow Heart { chapter 1 - hurricane }

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: The dynamic duo of Dynamight and Deku are unstoppable, climbing the hero charts like they always dreamed of as kids. Their journeys were tough, but offered them the world - fame, fortune, protection of their family and friends, a comfortable hero life. The recent increase in crime around Tokyo kept their entire sector busy, sending heroes out non-stop, desperate to keep the statistics as low as possible to maintain a clean reputation. When a nearby sector is requesting assistance, the boys are tasked with a mission to inspect a villain’s lair in a deserted area outside of the city. Reports have noted people going missing, specifically with rare quirks. With plenty of other heroes being unavailable, you’re chosen to tag along with the duo for the night operation. Everything is going according to plan until the villain lands a surprise attack, resulting in the your kidnapping and whisking you away through a mysterious portal. It’s been a month since your disappearance with no help of the hero agency. Bakugo and Midoriya take it into their own hands and are determined to get you back - no matter how long or what it takes. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: Prepare for the heartbreaking journey of Bakugo battling with his feelings when it’s too late…or is it? :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4.7k] Chapter 3 | Choke [3.9k] Chapter 4 | The Grey [6.7k] Chapter 5 | The Good Left Undone [4.7k] Chapter 6 | Tourniquet Chapter 7 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

CHAPTER ONE: HURRICANE

A beautiful summer morning, rays of tangerine light poured into the living room of your apartment as you sleepily make your way to the kitchen, desperate for that first cup of coffee. The clock on the stove read 8:35AM - the latest you’ve overslept in the last month. It was another long night in the office, writing reports for your previous week’s hero patrols that you’d put off for far too long. You'd think someone else would be responsible for inputting notes into the agency's system, but no - anyone below rank 10 was tasked with entering in their own data. 

Criminal activity in the area had increased significantly within the last 3 months, calling heroes of all ranks out nonstop, especially lower ranked heroes. Was it annoying? Sure, being awoken in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep to go stop a small robbery at the local late-night supermarket wasn't ideal. Especially when you dreamed of dealing with bigger threats, akin to crime syndicates and large scale villain organizations. As a hero, you’re taught to tune out the small details and focus on what’s in front of you - keeping the citizens of your ward safe and sound, even if it's helping a granny cross the street in the middle of the afternoon.

The agency accepted you with open arms right out of UA High, over the moon to have a hero with a quirk like yours in their roster. Psionic energy manipulation was shockingly uncommon amongst the 80% of the population of quirk users. The kinetic hero, Y/H/N, ranked number 37 - high enough to earn respect from your peers and low enough to not have to worry about being followed by paparazzi and negotiating brand deals. Cities were full of billboards with ads sponsored by heroes, heavily focused on those in the top 10 for allure to their product. Deku and Dynamight’s athletic wear collaboration, Uravity’s mochi bites, Shouto’s fire and ice energy drinks - it was impossible to avoid. Did you wish you had the smallest bit of spotlight? Sometimes, but being able to walk the streets off-duty and not be bothered was a luxury you'd like to keep. On the counter, your phone buzzed and flashed awake, shaking you out of the sleepy stupor.

Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo 

A picture of you and Bakugo appeared on to the caller ID screen - one of your favorite pictures with him. It was from a concert in Shibuya you'd attended a few months back. His arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he flipped off the camera, wearing his infamous toothy smirk as you leaned against him with a small peace sign and a warm smile. 

It's unfair how effortlessly attractive he was. Admittedly, you'd had a crush on him since high school and drank up every ounce of affection he threw your way over the years. Even though you've known him and Midoriya since childhood, your friendship didn't truly blossom until your first year in UA. Thanks to your tenacity and fighting spirit, he respected you after a long six months. That broke down his walls just enough to tolerate you and continue to be friends ever since. 

You, Midoriya, and Bakugo became three peas in pod, a strong bond established to last a lifetime. Post-UA life wasn’t as easy to see each other, but you made it work - trainings, missions, conflicting work schedules, and general life couldn’t get in between the three of you, even if it was just over texts, phone calls and late-night movie marathons. It helped that you all lived in Tokyo, at least. Midoriya, of course, was extremely special and essential to your life. He’s like the little brother you always wanted and a constant ray of sunshine, always there for whatever you need. There was just something different and special about your bond with Bakugo - a spark, without sounding cliche. And after all these years later, he's still your favorite person and one of your best friends. 

You wouldn't trade it for the world. Oh shit, I forgot we planned to go for a run this morning. You answer hesitantly, knowing full well you’re about to get an earful about being late. 

“Yo, Y/N, you plan on showin' up anytime soon?” There was shockingly no annoyance in his tone. “It’s almost 9.”

“Sorry Kat! I overslept. Had a long night writing reports in the office. I’ll be there in 10,” you say, not making any excuses. You hear a loud tch in response - ah, there’s the annoyance.

“I was about to bust down your door and give you a personal wake up call,” he teases, laughing to himself. “Get your ass to the park. See ya, lite-brite.” The line ended with a click. 

He'd never let that nickname go, one that followed you all the way back from high school. You'd grown used to it as he typically reserved it to get under your skin or light a fire under your ass. Most of the time? It worked - and you liked it.

Setting the coffee cup in the sink, you jog back into your room down the hallway and change into a clean set of workout clothes. You'd just gotten the PR package from Midoriya last week with his new sports wear collaboration with Bakugo, saving you time by not having to dig through your laundry pile. He would have scolded you for slacking on chores if he were to have woken you up in person, and then folded it himself to prove a point. He’d often harp on you for not keeping up with basic shit around your place, but in the same breath, start cleaning up for you - it was one of his love languages. 

The company they collaborated with nailed the designs perfectly. It was minimalistic, but still paid homage to their hero costumes. You grab Bakugo's set - a cropped black sleeveless hoodie with an orange 'X' across the front, a forest green band with a drawstring around the midsection, and an orange hood. The matching shorts were all black with a simple orange stripe down the sides. The neoprene material allowed for the set to breathe in any weather condition.

Thankfully, the park you were meeting him at was only a couple minute walk from your apartment building. Not long after pulling your hair into a ponytail, splashing your face with water and brushing your teeth, you're kicking on your sneakers by the door and shuffling out of the apartment. A few minutes to spare, you duck into the convenience store along the way, grabbing two sports drinks and a bag of his favorite spicy-flavored chips. God, you hated the taste of them and never understood why he liked them so much. Some part of you jokingly thought it fueled his already explosive personality, literally heating him up from the inside.

───

"You wear that on purpose?" Bakugo snickers over his phone as you skip toward him, pointing to your workout gear. 

"What can I say? It's comfortable. Happy to be a walking ad for the number four hero," you say, elbowing him in the arm. He rolls his eyes, snatching the sports drink you've outstretched to him and mutters a thanks. 

"You should model our next set," he pats you on the back. "You're the perfect fit." 

You scoff, waving a hand at him. "Yeah, like I'm model material."

"I literally just said you were, dumbass. Take a damn compliment!" 

He peers over your shoulder to see the chips in your bag. "Damn, you're really kissing up to me today. What's the occasion?" He's beaming over the attention you're showering him with - he'd never admit how much he loved it.

You shake your head playfully. "What, I can't spoil my favorite person?" 

Bakugo barks out a laugh while opening the sports drink and chugging half of it in one go. Again, it was stupid how attractive he was, no matter what he did. The summer breeze made his blonde locks dance lazily in the morning sun, a sheen on his flawless skin as some of the liquid spilled out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his jawline. A sadistic part of you thought he did this shit on purpose to rile you up, testing the boundaries of your friendship. 

If only you had the nerve to just scream from the rooftops - Katsuki, I fucking love you.

“You good, Y/N?” He's waving a hand in front of your face. “Space case much?”

“Yeah! Sorry, apparently still waking up,” you apologize while stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s go!”

───

An hour later, you and Bakugo finish your run in the park, completely drenched in sweat. The two of you plop under a nearby tree in the shade, the humidity adding a layer of exhaustion to your depleted stamina. Lazily slouching over onto your shoulder, he steals the sports drink out of your hand and downs the rest of it himself with a satisfied hah. Somehow, you always forget that he smells like caramel and burnt sugar after a run, invading your senses with that sweet essence that you loved. His bangs stuck to the sweat on his forehead as he dropped his head back against the tree, eyes closed as he caught his breath. 

God, he’s so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, almost afraid he'd somehow hear you.

"I'm free the rest of the day," he comments between shallow breaths, lazily opening one eye and elbowing your side. "Down for a movie day? Been awhile."

"Hell yeah. Junk food, too?" Your eyes light up with excitement.

"Like you gotta ask. I didn't run three fuckin' miles just to look good," he quips. "Cool if I shower at your place?"

That catches you off guard, sending a flutter of butterflies off in your stomach. Why the hell are you so riled up today? Sure, you've had a massive crush on your best friend for ages, but its usually not this intense. Must be the scent of his sweat deluding your thoughts...or maybe it’s the potential scene of watching him walk out into your living room, shirtless - excess water cascading down his hourglass figure, tracing his abs and settling into the hem of his sweatpants.

Stop it! Calm the fuck down.

"S-sure. I have a pair of your sweats, I think…maybe Izuku’s? It’s like you guys leave your shit at my place so I do your laundry for free." 

He shoves you jokingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hah! Knew it was you who stole my favorite pair. I’ve got shit with me, no worries.”

Bakugo climbs to his feet, extending a hand back to you. “C’mon, I’m fucking starving and dying to do nothing the rest of the day.”

───

The sunset’s sorbet-colored afterglow flooded the living room as the fourth movie’s credits rolled on the TV screen, a faint warm breeze coming through the open balcony door. The two of you had settled in after your run, marathoning through a collection of films you'd be wanting to watch, surrounded by a buffet of comfort food - taiyaki, meat buns, spicy fried chicken bites, mabo tofu, yakitori, and a box full of various flavors of dango. The cashier at the convenience store must have thought you two were hosting an insane party with how much food you bought, cleaning out their entire hot foods section in minutes. 

Bakugo stretched out like a cat, his abs flexing as his black tank top moved up his midsection. It was impossible not to stare, especially when he wore cropped shirts, showing off his hard earned muscles. You found it ironic how you mentioned once - and only once - how crop tops on guys are attractive as hell, and a few weeks later? He had a handful of them that he’d rotate wearing during the summer, claiming he only wears them for “regulating his temperature for his quirk.” You knew that was a bold-faced lie, but never called him on it. Why would you risk making him change his mind when they looked so good on him? 

He let out a satisfactory groan, putting his feet up on the coffee table and hands behind his head. You stretch as well, throwing your feet in his lap like always. Bakugo looked comfortable, like he was at home. You were home to him.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” He jokes, lolling his head to face you. 

Lost in thought, you have no time to stop the words falling from your mouth.

“No, just admiring you.”

Bakugo quirks an eyebrow, surprised by your flattery. You see a faint pink blush begin to make it’s way across his cheeks, an extremely rare sight.

“Th-thanks,” is all he can muster to say in a low voice. 

“Is that so weird to say? You’re gorgeous, Katsuki,” you blurt out, shocked by your own words. Where the hell is this coming from? You normally weren't so...forward. Not that you were lying in any capacity. You've complimented him plenty times before, why is now different? 

Right?

You pause, realizing you could be overwhelming him. He'd always been adamant on how much he hates when "fans" view him as just a sex object rather than respect him as a heroic figure. 

“I know you hate being objectified. I’m sorry -,”

“Don’t be, y’didn't.” 

The static of the TV hummed through the lull in your conversation, the credits of the last movie approaching the end of its sequence. You nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Thank fuck he can't hear your thoughts.

Bakugo notices your nervous tick and grins. That damn shit-eating grin. 

"Relax, Y/N. I didn't say I didn't like it. Big difference between you and a fan girl sayin' shit like that." 

As he’s about to continue the conversation, both of your phones ring simultaneously. That’s weird…it’s 8:30PM on a Tuesday night. Neither of you were scheduled for patrol and all sectors had coverage from the last e-mail update. You pull your phone out to check the caller ID and sigh in annoyance.

Incoming Call: AGENCY - EMERGENCY LINE

“The fuck?” Bakugo huffs, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

───

After 15 minutes, you're debriefed with a new mission, and strangely, you’re assigned with none other than Bakugo and Midoriya. This was extremely uncommon for heroes of top 10 rank to work with those below rank 25 and only happened when other top 10 heroes are too busy. Emergency calls were normally automated messages, but this was a personal conference call from the board of directors.

We are in need of Y/H/N to assist Dynamight and Deku’s mission to stake out a villain’s laboratory tonight in Sector 42. We’ve received reports of civilians going missing near the area over the last few weeks, specifically those with uncommon and rare quirks. There is a probability that hostages are being using for the development of a secret serum, to which is unknown at this time. Report to the agency by 11:30PM for further instruction.

Man, you were really looking forward to more time with Bakugo. Granted, you’ll still be with him, but now you’ll be stalking around for work, not stuffing your face on the couch together.

“Kat, I don’t know what it is, but I…I have a really weird feeling about this stake out,” you admit, unsure of where this anxiety is coming from. This isn’t the first time you’ve been assigned to a mission like this, and certainly won’t be the last, there was just something odd in the air surrounding this one. 

“Yeah. Go grab your suit, I’ll call Izuku to meet us here and we'll go over together,” Bakugo says hesitantly, already dialing Midoriya and bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Hey, yeah just got the call. Y/N and I are at her apartment, swing by and we'll go to the agency together.”

───

By 11:45PM, the three of you are suited up and stationed in Sector 42. The area was very…barren? It was confusing to you how people would wander out here and disappear. It was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the city limits, an open field surrounded by a spotty tree line. Something still felt off about this entire set up - a gut feeling, but it was enough to keep you on edge.

“Y/N?” Midoriya called to you, blinking with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

You rub your temple, desperately trying to push the feeling down. 

“Sorry, Izu. I’ve had a gut feeling something was wrong since the phone call.”

“What do you mean?” His interest is peaked, both out of curiosity and concern. 

“Can’t place it, but I feel it, too. Something’s not right,” Bakugo chimed in, surveying the field for any signs of…whatever the hell it was they’re looking for. An entrance to a lab? Masked minions abducting people? The agency was extremely vague in their details. That didn’t sit well with you, and Bakugo now, too. 

“You’re not wrong. This is an open area in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone wander out here alone?” Midoriya muttered, continuing a conversation with his own thoughts aloud. “It's not a common road for travel, by foot or by vehicle. And how would the agency know what this villain is making without having the location of the lab in question?”

The abrupt sound of creaking metal echoed around you, a sense of danger spiking in your nerves. You place a hand on the shoulder of both Midoriya and Bakugo to halt them in their tracks.

“Did you hear that? It sounded like a door was opening…close by,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Whoosh!

You didn’t register there was another presence amongst you until the dart made contact with your skin. A warming sensation flowed through your right shoulder as you let out a cry, stumbling to your knee. What the fuck? Your hero suit was designed to prevent piercing damage to a degree, but this dart cut right through it. The dart resembled a syringe, automatically activating the injection mechanism as it pierced your skin.

“Y/N!” Midoriya shouted, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist to whisk you away from another potential attack. Bakugo whipped his head around, looking for any sign of where the dart came from. Was someone hiding, or was it a device hidden out of sight? Maybe in a nearby tree? That's not possible, these trees don't have enough leaves for coverage like that.

“Hold still, I’m going to pull it out,” Midoriya warned. You braced for the pain as he yanked the dart from your shoulder, tossing it out of reach. You wince, the sting slowly fading a few seconds later. “Are you feeling okay?”

Things were starting to feel fuzzy, the ache spreading rapidly through the rest of your body. Everything felt warm and cold simultaneously, as if your body was at war over what temperature to settle on. 

“I’m alright, just…dizzy,” you mumble, slurring as you attempt to reassure him.

Midoriya helps you to your feet, offering to let you use him as support. You wave a hand, muttering over and over again I’m fine, I’m fine. There’s a pulsing sensation starting to build in your shoulder, creeping its way through your right arm. It’s tingling, crawling - uncomfortable, but not painful. What the hell was in that dart? 

A flash of black invades your vision, throwing you off balance as things pixelate and sharpen repeatedly before completely disappearing. Things are spinning and your senses are dulling. You notice that you don’t hear Bakugo or Midoriya anymore…did they wander off? You should be able to hear explosions, gusts of wind, crackling energy - something.

A force knocks you on your back, slamming you to the ground. You don’t feel a damn thing, just a vague numbness as your body, what you presume, hits the ground. You can’t make out whatever, or whoever, it is that is attacking you. I still can’t hear anything! Can you speak? Can anyone hear you even if you could?

…Y…N! …Y/N!

A voice? It’s muffled, but you hear someone calling for you. Was that Midoriya?

“Let her go, jackass!”

Oh no, that’s Bakugo. 

His booming voice reverberates through your head, sending your thoughts whirling in a vortex more than they already were. A vision of the battlefield was starting coming into focus, hazy, but a semblance of scenery was making its way back to you. When did I get up from the ground? Didn't I get knocked down? 

The field before you was littered with debris.

…Branches and broken stumps of dead trees.

…Craters in the ground.

…are those broken pieces of Bakugo’s gauntlets? 

…patchy trails and puddles of blood soaking into the dirt.

The sights sent a chill up your spine - your gut instinct was right. 

To your right, Midoriya panted with force as he held onto his thigh, blood seeping through his suit and staining around the wound. He was close enough that you could see the detailing of his tendons exposed from the impact, frayed pieces of skin hanging from the damage. His hair was slicked back, matted with a mix of, what you think, is dirt and blood. The rest of his suit had a variety of slashes and cuts, the material tattered and torn all over his body.

To your left, Bakugo’s on the ground, battered and bruised as he’s struggling to get to his feet. His gauntlets were missing, along with the glove underneath on his right hand. His exposed forearm was beat red, what looked like hand prints blistering the area. Blood trickled from his forehead and pooled under his mask. He’s shouting again…you can’t quite make out what he’s saying as he’s extending his bare arm in your direction.

What the fuck happened?! 

Something inside you clicks abruptly, adrenaline surging, urging you to fight. It’s competing with the numbness in your muscles. How much damage have you taken if you can’t feel a damn thing?

Fuck. Come on, dammit. Move, fight - do something! Help them!

In your peripheral vision, a man appears beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn on your heel, ready to activate your quirk and blast this guy into oblivion. Your hand meets his clothed chest with a thump.

Nothing happens. 

Your quirk doesn’t activate.

Another swing, focusing all the energy you have into a concentrated blast.

Nothing.

Panic sets in as you study your hand, mortified that you’ve been rendered useless. Your mind is racing faster than you can keep up with. Is this the serum they talked about earlier? How long was I unconscious...was I even unconscious? 

And then it dawns on you - it’s a quirk suppressant. 

The serum they’re using to abduct people nullifies their quirks to make them a willing target.

The mystery man cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your vision tunnels on his face, the rest of your body shutting back down. You feel your arms flop to their sides as your knees begin to buckle - the adrenaline being zapped from your muscles at his touch. 

“Good, it’s setting in. You’ll be a decent specimen. We’ve been waiting for a psionics user like you to add to our roster.”

A giant swirl of matter begins to manifest in front of you, a gentle force sucking you closer to it’s entry point. You can't help but think about how helpless you look in this moment, confused as hell that this scrawny man could take down three heroes with ease. You fucking hated the feeling, never wanting to be the damsel in distress. It pissed you off beyond belief.

“It’s time.” The man, in what you can now see is a white lab coat, turns you around to face the boys sprawled on the battlefield. “We’ll be going now.”

Every inch of your body is screaming run. But you can’t. You can’t move, paralyzed by all the conflicting effects of the serum running rampant through your veins. Your vision is dimming once more, your eyes threaten to close as Bakugo’s voice drags you back to reality. Your eyes snap open as he appears in front of you, digging his heels into the dirt. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, pleading for you to hear him as he clutches your forearm, attempting to pull you to him. You can’t feel it, but by the strain shown in his bicep, he’s using all of his strength to hold onto you. His eyes are full of panic, wide and bloodshot, crimson irises aflame.

"Let her fucking go!" he roars a second time. His hand is slipping down your forearm, now desperately gripping onto your hand. You attempt to grasp it to no avail, your strength failing you. You hear him let out an anxious grunt, struggling against the force of whatever is pulling you away behind you.

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes, an exchange of unspoken words between you two. A sense of dread begins to flood through your body as you see tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He's terrified. 

You remember a thought from earlier in the day, if only I could scream "I love you."

There will never be a perfect moment, never a time and place for you to say it. You have to create the moment yourself.

A steady breath escapes you, softly gazing at Bakugo as you see his fingers slipping through your own.

"Katsuki," you mouth, barely able to hear the sound of your own voice.

"I love you."

The last thing you see is Bakugo frantically scrambling toward you before darkness envelops your sight.

- - - BAKUGO POV - - -

Everything happened in the blink of a fucking eye.

Ambushed, both him and Midoriya were hazed with a mysterious smoke, rendering their quirks useless. His explosions fizzled out as he fought the onslaught of henchmen surrounding them, armed with various weapons. The two of them blitzed through a good number of them before quickly becoming overwhelmed - 25 on 2 wasn't ideal odds.

Their hero suits were ripped, equipment shattered as they were punched, kicked, stabbed at, battered, and thrown around.

"I don't need my fuckin' quirk to kick your asses!" Bakugo threatened as he swiped at a nameless henchmen, nailing a right hook to his jaw. Midoriya was holding his own behind him until he let out an agonizing yelp, falling to the ground audibly.

"Deku!" Bakugo called out, spinning in the direction of his cry as someone socked him from the left side. He skid onto the ground, particles of dirt trailing behind him.

Regaining his composure, he looked around to see that all of the henchmen had swiftly disappeared without a trace, as if they were never there in the first place. What the fuck?

He saw her body standing still, some man in a lab coat behind her. She resembled a lifeless puppet, the light from her eyes dim and limbs loosely at her sides. It looked as though she could collapse at any moment.

"Let her go, jackass!" Bakugo shouted, unable to get to his feet.

The unknown man gripped her shoulder as a large black mass appeared behind them. 

Is that a portal? That looks like Kurogiri's quirk from years ago, he thought to himself, willing every fiber of his being to get to his fucking feet.

He's able to muster enough strength get one knee off the ground, enough to launch in range of her and wildly grasp for her hand. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

Bakugo doesn't realize he's screaming, he's acting on impulse and adrenaline - desperation to save her. His hand is slipping at an agonizingly slow pace, moving from forearm to her hand, hardly able to keep his hand clasped with hers. He's cursing internally, hoping that she can't see the terror in his eyes, the anxiety filling him to the brim. That's when he hears her speak, her voice hauntingly quiet.

"Katsuki, I love you."

His hand slips away, watching her disappear into the portal. It closes in an instant as he's hopelessly dashing to it, not noticing that Midoriya is charging from behind him. They briefly collide, stumbling from the impact before they both steady themselves. 

The silence surrounding them is deafening.

"Kacchan," Midoriya snivels, head hung low. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to help." His voice was breaking, clenching his fists at his side.

Bakugo stares at his hand, collapsing to his knees. He felt nauseous, the crippling realization churning in his stomach.

I love you.

Her voice ricocheted through his head, bouncing around as it tugged hard at his heartstrings. An overwhelming sensation of loss fills his heart, refusing to come to terms with the current reality. 

A brief memory flooded into Bakugo's mind, reminding him of a feeling he'd long shoved away. One night - years ago - at his brand new apartment in Tokyo, they'd been up all night talking after the long day of moving his shit into the place. It was 3AM, boxes piled everywhere as they laid in his bed, bullshitting the night away with random talks of life. She started a vulnerable conversation of mental health amongst heroes, ranging from her own family issues and medicated struggles as examples of not knowing what people deal with beneath the surface. He'd been listening, watching as she poured her heart out next to him, able to smile through it all. It was in that moment that struck him like lightning - he'd fallen madly and irrevocably in love with her. He had convinced himself there was no way she would have felt the same, forcing himself to suffocate that feeling for years.

And he was wrong.

Midoriya crouched down beside him as he's lost in the memory, a hand on his shoulder. 

"We'll find her, Kacchan, don't worry," he attempts to declare confidently as his own tears are staining his cheeks. "She's strong, she'll be -,"

"She said she loved me." Bakugo's facade was shattering before his eyes as he watched his best friend crumble onto the ground, clutching his chest. He couldn't control the wail that escaped him, tears pouring from his eyes like the downpour of a rainstorm. 

Midoriya pulled him close, Bakugo falling limply into him, curling into a ball as they sobbed together.

and thus begins the traumatic story of bakugo and midoriya losing their best friend to a mystery portal to nowhere!

Divider by : @/saradika

[askew-d]

WANGXIAN FICS MASTERLIST

• tonight i can write the saddest lines, by sarahyyy — post-canon amnesiac lan wangji getting to know wei wuxian again. amazing! i love this author, sincerely.

• deconstruct, by flowercity (faorie) — a soulmate au in which what you write in your skin appears in the other person’s. i’ll admit that soulmate aus aren’t my cup of tea, however i quite liked this one!

• resonant frequencies, by chinxe — the infamous fake relationship story. with wangxian, this works so well! just amazing.

• between the lines, by fading_fast — modern setting au with wangxian meeting through a game. love these strange meetings and this one’s damn enjoyable.

• something real, by latios — wangxian wrong number au involving bunny pictures. i need more wrong number aus for them!! gimme!!

• all your life you’ll dream of this, by attila — cinderella au but with wei wuxian as prince charming. a fantastic story, i was so engaged in this it’s a wonder.

• ⭐️🎖️ one good thing, by yuu_chi — wei wuxian’s a ghost haunting his childhood house until lan wangji appears. seriously, everything about this plot charmed me. i’m enchanted.

• of rabbits and men, by shoutowo — wei wuxian turning into a rabbit and making his way into lan wangji’s heart for the second time. anything more wangxian than this?

• ⭐️ rumor has it, by ulan — post-canon cql in which wei wuxian comes back to “haunt” his rumored cultivation partner. the softness in this killed me.

• ⭐️🎖️ a little happiness, by suspicious_popsicle — lan wangji gets cursed and is transformed into his child version. so lovely to see!! i’m surprised i can read this for free.

• critical path analysis, by chinxe — brooklyn 99 au with wangxian in that episode where they make a bet and wei wuxian takes wangji on a terrible date that’s not terrible at all!

• ⭐️ some of you, by tangerine chair — social media au where lan wangji’s an actor and posts a suspicious tweet about his love life. incredible story, really.

• ⭐️ this should definitely happen, by yeolinski — wei wuxian waking up high in anesthesia and hitting on the hot guy who’s there with him. this is so goddamn funny, i swear i can’t.

• linger in the sun, by etymologyplayground — wangxian are cursed to not hear or see one another. i loved this a lot, it’s terrific.

• another way, by anonymous — wei wuxian sneaks outside to buy emperor smile’s again, and once again encounters lan wangji. i’m frustrated this doesn’t have as many kudos as it deserves, tbh.

• life, drama and action, by akai_hana — one more social media au with wangxian as a famous couple. awesome story.

• inebriation and affections, by chewing — wei wuxian gets drunk and shows his clingy attitude. it’s great to see him like that for the first time, thank you author 🙏🏼

• ⭐️ the inquiries of the heart, by ziane — very much alike “another way”, but this one has a sequel. it’s a whole show alright. a hella nice canon-divergence.

• 我在, by tangerinechair — wei wuxian comforting lan wangji in the xuanwu cave. something i deeply needed to read.

• facilitated diffusion, by chinxe — lan wangji can’t stop ordering stuff just to see the cute delivery worker. at this point i’m bookmarking every work by this author, ngl.

• ⭐️ you, asleep and dreaming, by etymologyplayground — post-canon cql that’ll haunt your mind but that you need to check out if you haven’t already.

• a wild heart to tame mine, by theroyalsavage — superheroes au in a soft perspective and amazing plot, liked every bit.

• ⭐️ a song you’ve never heard, by arahir — wei wuxian’s fatally injured and lan wangji… well, you can imagine. it’s heartbreaking and heartwarming all in between.

• ⭐️ to wing your soul with jasmines, by enemyofrome — while reaching gusu, wei wuxian starts sending flowers to lan wangji. cql post-canon. i could die basking on this adorable story.

• dear hanguang-jun, by cavaleira — people start sending letters asking for relationship advice from lan wangji and he gives it to them. whoa, the entertainment!

• ⭐️🎖️ two guys r in love thats literally it, victortor — wei wuxian traveling back to his old self and meeting lan wangji again. it’s a shame we didn’t hear more from this author in this fandom for a long time. where are you?? come back to give us more of this gay lil beasts. i absolutely love this and the title makes it more interesting. iconic.

• concessions to love, by besanii — arranged marriage wangxian. it’s well-noted and well-written. it rocks!

• “congratulations, get rich”, by attila — it’s chinese new year and wei wuxian wants to do things differently. incredibly done.

• atlas, by etymologyplayground — if you want a crossover between hob and mdzs, here it is. and it’s amazing!

• soft-hearted, by sarahyyy — canon-divergence where wei wuxian ends up in the lan sect. it’s so soft, just as the name tells us!

• seldom all they seem, by fahye — here we go with one more arranged marriage au. this one’s rated e, surely a ride! worth every bit.

• and in the spring i shed my skin, by wvlfqveen — shapeshifter lan wangji in a modern with magic au where they’re professors. do i need to say more? all too good, all too good

• love & longing, rabbit edition, by jaws_3 — lan wangji gets turned into a rabbit and looks for wei wuxian for help. do you sense a pattern? yes, maybe i love the idea of lan wangji as a bunny. in fact, i recommend every story by this author and many others but i’ll just be adding by absolute favorites. and this one’s fabulous.

• 在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable, by yiqie — we had people writing letters to hanguang-jun asking for advice and now it’s people writing letters to the yiling patriarch! also gorgeous.

• 1 unread message, by bittersweetirony — office au where wei wuxian keeps receiving emails from an admirer. short and very sweet!

• ⭐️ the stars in the hazy heaven tremble above you, by cicer — wherein wei wuxian’s ciderella and wangji’s prince charming. i could read this over and over and never get tired. in fact, i did.

• ⭐️🎖️ only the deepest love, by occultings (microcomets) — pride and prejudice fusion. everything’s a bliss, magically and wonderfully so. i fell in love with this masterpiece. in fact, read everything by this author!! highly recommend. especially three days gone, if you go searching rabbits and a life in your shape!

• beneath six layers of silk, by darkredloveknot (enheduane) — lan wangji’s cursed to speak every thought of his out loud. come on, who never wanted to check what this guy’s thinking? perfect!

• ⭐️ let me come home, by cafecliche — seven nights with wangxian being sappy. i could dream about this piece of art. really.

• ⭐️🎖️ i hope that you will come and meet me, by feyburner — another post-canon cql where wangxian slowly get together. i find this particularly devastating and so beautiful.

• the ocean between us, by catbrainedschemes — this is for those who watched the legend of the blue sea, yes, the k-drama! because this is a fusion of it, where wei wuxian is a mermaid.

• call me, beep me, by myung — a whole social media au in another level! they are all actors and i love this idea so much. myung-laoshi big brained, tis glorious story right here made a lot happier.

• and his wanting grows teeth, by yukla — cultivator lan wangji finding wei wuxian in a village, an au in canon setting as the tag says. it's devasting how good this is, really.

• 🎖️ how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat), by bwyn, yuisaki — wei wuxian finds a catfish trying to be the famous lan wangji. turns out, of course, that it's not a catfish. can we talk about this story more? the sheer hurt/comfort of it, and how it's the perfect rom-com slash drama depiction? i want this as a real show! new york, i love you, by yuisaki also gorgeous!

• listen to the voice inside your head, by pupeez4eva— wei wuxian wakes up to his future-self voice inside his head. it's telling him suspicious things. the amount of giggles i let it slip. in fact, i recommend every work by this author because they always makes me laugh!

• 🎖️ the breaking of your soul (upon my lips), by sunsandships — canon-divergence where wei wuxian discovers that lan wangji's the one who kissed him without his consent. that changes everything. just... magnificent fix-up story, as i said so in my bookmark.

• love on 35mm, by fakeplasticlily — film student lan wangji and wei wuxian as the brother of lan wangji's best friend. my heart was aching during this.

• neatly arranged, by thunderwear — wei wuxian and lan wangji are betrothed, against their own wills. do we have enough wangxian arranged marriage content? no, we do not.

• ⭐️🎖️paint smears on sunny days, by snowshadowao3 — lan wangji's son, lan yuan, has a favorite teacher, and that's wei-laoshi, art professional and also an expert at getting into lan wangji's heart. i will dive DEEP into teacher wei wuxian concept. this one's so wholesome, i could Die.

• 🎖️the absolutely true story of the yiling patriarch: a manifesto in many parts, by aubreyli — the juniors decide to make up wei wuxian's reputation by creating a book of his stories with hanguang-jun. it goes well. one time or another. haha, i love the juniors, they are so creative when making wangxian get together.

• ⭐️🎖️ pigtail pulling, by protos_metazu_isson — lan wangji decides to face wei wuxian's pigtail pulling face to face. that goes better than the expected and worse that what he further imagined. it's surely one of stories i keep on rereading from time to time, especially because it's not big and it's so CUTE!! help.

• ⭐️🎖️ your hand in mine, by cerbykerby — wangxian cursed to hold each other's hand. i could scream while i'm are. come on, this is one of the best stories here, it's short and so sweet, so fitting for them too. perfect, perfect.

• ⭐️ as you like it, by cosmicmilktea — wei wuxian starts to discover what's lan wangji likes. it's what he should know as his husband, after all. IT'S WHAT WE NEED AND DESERVE.

• after the final rose, by azulewaxwing — the bachelor au, because who doesn't want a lan wangji for themselves? turns out, the cameraman attracts his attention more than any contestant could. absolute fire.

• your heartbeat, across the grass, by fakeplasticlily — former classmates with now wei wuxian babysitting and lan wangji as a famous football player. aaah, just imagining lan wangji playing football, as a brazilian, it gives me chills.

• grow, by cafecliche — age degression wei wuxian troubling cloud recesses and the juniors. i love this idea! love a tiny wei wuxian. he deserves good things.

• obedient and bellicose, by thunderwear — an ella the enchanted au where, as per say, lan wangji has to follow every rule. oh, what an incredible fusion. it fits so well, even.

• ⭐️ at least in this lifetime, by etymologyplayground — aaaah i'm sighing over this again. this story's pure sweetness. diabetes. fluff. outstanding. basically, it's just wangxian getting married.

• ⭐️🎖️ i'm the one for your fire, by occultings (microcomets) — a cherry magic au, where wei wuxian can reads mind and discovers lan wangji from the office is actually into him. and maybe he's also into lan wangji. but like, in a no homo kinda way. of course! (denial's a river on africa, dear.)

• ⭐️ look not with the eyes, by spodumene — a case fic post-canon cql where everyone who knows lan wangji starts to devote themselves to him and it doesn't work on wei wuxian. why would that be? i wonder.

• ⭐️🎖️ sweet chaos, by eachandeverydimension — it took me a long time to finish this because everything was so good i wanted to feel it forever. wangxian arranged marriage where they're fourteen and lan wangji goes spend the time with him at yunmeng.

• ⭐️🎖️ your words upon my lips, by uchiuchi — during a nighthun, wangxian get cursed, what one says comes on the other's lips. this killed me, it's so freaking funny and overall over the top.

• ⭐️🎖️ linger by the door (i've always been yours), by piecrust — epistolary wangxian! post-canon cql! introspection! slow burn! everything i could ever want in just one fic. and the letters are unbearably beautiful.

• my heart skips a beat (so my gut can feel the punch), by piecrust — wangxian taking the long way back home. i always wonder how these pretty stories come into an author's mind.

• we sit in the sunset glow, by moonsteps — tangled au where wei wuxian's flynn rider and wangji's rapunzel. thank you, dear author, indeed wangxian came straight out of a fairy tale movie and we deserve more fics like this!

•⭐️not in so many words, by jaws_3 — getting hananaki through a curse after he flirts with the wrong florist, wei wuxian starts dealing with the consequences of his actions. a masterpiece. and so, so lovely, gimme more. this author also has many darling works.

• ⭐️tickling sleeping dragons, by fallingfeathers — a hogwarts au with wei wuxian as a troublemaker gryffindor and lan wangji as a rigorous ravenclaw! perfect, isn't it? the development's awesome as well.

• blooming into the color of love, series by leffy — actors wei wuxian and lan wangji, who are judged to be rivals, have to work together for a tv show. and they have sex scenes at that. so enjoyable!

• love potion no. 9, by ria_green — one more hogwarts au where amortentia's involved, so you can imagine what happens. short and soft.

• the rivers start to sing, by fruitys — another tangled au but this time with wei wuxian as rapunzel and lan wangji as flynn rider. it's a marvel that we have two tangled aus in here! phenomenal. mountains, we met by this author (every work of theirs, actually) are also worth every bit!

•⭐️blue-ribbon bunny, by cicer — shapeshifter lan wangji is forced into a shift after getting tired at work and wei wuxian finds him. bunji won my heart, i want to pet him! wei wuxian, you lucky fool.

•⭐️no more looking, i've found home, by annadream — more epistolary wangxian! more post-canon cql! getting together! once again, with terrific letters. i'm astonished with these author's mind.

•⭐️🎖️teen project to change the world, by animeloverhomura — mdzs characters watching mdzs donghua!!! please, this is my utmost FAVORITE! ever! i'm also translating this into portuguese, for those who wanna check in the start note (i'm slowly updating it, im sorry). but aaah, how sensational this work is!!

• an impromptu visit to the city, by bosbie — lan wangji time travels into a modern time and wei wuxian finds him there! oh, this is precious, they are the best.

• heartkeeper, by postingpebbles — bunny lan wangji again, but this ain't modern times, and it's also fascinating. the arts in these made me so warm inside, too.

• ⭐️🎖️the one-body problem, by metisket — during a ritual, lan jingyi's possessed and wei wuxian's on his body with him. waahhh, i couldn't help but chuckle during every part of this, it's well-written and freaking nice to see them bonding. jingyi and wei wuxian being buddies owns my life.

• ⭐️🎖️no certainty of doors between us, by betts — this is the story that HAUNTS me. i read this every once in a while because it's goddamn FANTASTIC. just roommates wangxian with wangji complaining about wei wuxian but being head over heels in love with the man. chaotic, amusing and flawless!!!

• ⭐️🎖️covered in bees, by scarlettstorm— apiary au with wei wuxian freaking out over bees at his doorstep, but then lan wangji comes to aid. and of course, chemistry sparks. and there are bees everywhere. and my heart's melted.

•🎖️lavender blue, by ana_cp — wei wuxian's a florist for a wedding and lan wangji's a cook, they meet and don't stop meeting afterwards. everything about this work is excellent!

•⭐️ wrong turn, right place, by diamondbruise — more time-travel au! this time, it's wei wuxian who goes to cloud recesses coming from his modern time. one of my favorite quotes from all the fics i've read it's in here. such an exquisite work.

• hello, it. have you tried turning it off and on again?, by overmountainandmeadow — here we have modern setting, office wangxian, it superior lan wangji, juniors as interns and other great plots. stunning work!

• diamonds are wei wuxian's worst enemy, by thefaceofno — lan wangji says he wants to marry, and wei wuxian thinks it's with another person. of course it isn't. so he helps plan his own wedding. coming from our best fool, that's expected, really. splendid!

• secretary lan, series by silverclaw — exactly what it says, lan wangji as his husband's secretary and everybody thinks wei wuxian's cheating on their spouse with... well, his spouse. it's absurdly good.

• our hands clasped so tight, by chapter_61 — wangxian get stuck in a library and conversations ensue. i like the idea of fics with a lot of dialogue, and this one didn't fail to surprise and light me up! lovely!

• ⭐️connected: unknown number, by phoenixking25 — wrong number aus always have my heart, and wow, how good this one is. truly excellent, with the perfect lenght. the ones i read are always so short, but this is longer! a win for the wrong number lovers.

• cut through the clouds, break the ceiling, by tardigradeschool — modern setting with our adorable boys including a drunk confession. i'm not lying when i say this is so delightful, i want to print it out and keep it.

• who could stay? you could stay, by martyrsdaughter — neighbours au, where wei wuxian's a bit intruding. maybe too much. but lan wangji likes him anywhere. what is there not to like? haha, a whole awesome read.

• ⭐️ be gay, do crime, by merelydovely — lan wangji thinks wei wuxian, the guy who invaded his home one afternoon and petted his bunnies, is a bad guy. he's not. hilarious and brilliant!

• ⭐️don't threaten me with a good time, by livinginaworldofnoise — ridiculously funny! basically, a great british bake off au with wei wuxian being a lil demon. i want this to be printed and delivered during my funeral, thank you very much.

• ⭐️as the clouds part and clear, we finally meet again, by 12262325 — lan wangji, as a kid, encounters wei wuxian, who's older than him. they keep on encountering each other, and lan wangji keeps on falling in love with his senior. aah, i'm in love with this work! i can't stop rereading!

• as if you were a mythical thing, by daltoneering — a vague steampunk au as the author suggest, and it absolutely rocks! i wish this had even more hits, as it deserves.

you can check my wangxian bookmarks on ao3 for more recs! i’d just like to note again that this is, of course, based on my own opinion. regardless if these stories are famous or not, i wanted to make this list for my enjoyment and for those who want more wangxian content, either they’re old here or if they’re just entering the fandom :)

as always, i’m accepting other recs if you have those. check my pinned tweet for more of my stuff and thank yoou!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey just wondering if you still write for tangerine? If you do I was hoping you’d write one about tangerine having to most sweetest and kindest wife and everyone always wondering how could she marry a big grump like him? Like tangerine is on a job and he’s due back in a few days and these men have been sent to kidnap his wife and she sees them infront of her house and goes out asking if they are lost and invites them inside for some tea and makes them lunch and they end up leaving without her because of how sweet she was and tangerine comes back recognising the men leaving the house and his wife waving goodbye to them lol if that makes sense thank you

yes bb, still write for him. this is such a cute and funny idea!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 reader is very mother in this

ROSE-TINTED VIEW.

tangerine x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 702

Some people see the worst in others, but not you. You often view the world and those around you through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, only ever seeing the good in everything. Some may call you unrealistic, but you wouldn't call it that - you liked to think of it as optimism. It's something needed within the world, especially to your pessimistic counterpart of a husband.

You were having a home day, chilling and lounging around the house, waiting for Tangerine's return from work when you see a few construction workers appear on your driveway. That wasn't who they were, but you'd never know that.

You see them lingering for a few minutes before you head to the front door and open it. "You guys alright?" you ask, stepping outside and onto the porch. "You lost?"

"No, we're good. Thanks," one of them speaks, exchanging looks with the others. 

"Just waiting for our tool van," another adds, slapping his 'co-worker' when he began to whisper.

"Do you want to wait inside? It's going to rain soon, you'll catch a cold," you question, looking up at the sky - gesturing to the approaching grey clouds.

The men whisper amongst themselves, nudging each other with small laughs. "If you don't mind," the first speaks, nodding his 'co-workers' along.

"No, not at all. Come on in," you wave the men over, opening the door wider so they'd all fit past. You close the door behind them and notice the heavy fall of rain. "Just missed it," you chuckle, walking past them and into the kitchen. "Was about to put the kettle on. What can I get you? Teas? Coffees?"

The men exchange a few more glances - a quizzical raise of the brows upon your amiable questions. "Four teas, please, love," one of them speaks.

"I'll put milk and sugar on the table, and you can help yourselves," you gesture to the middle of the dining table in which they all sat around.

You head back into the kitchen, preparing and making cups of tea, grabbing a couple of packs of biscuits to take through. You place the mugs in front of them all - adding milk, sugar and cookies in the centre. The men thank you, smiling courteously at you.

"Can I get you guys something to eat, something fresh? Sandwiches? Oh, I bought a baguette this morning from the market— well, it's actually for my husband, but he won't mind. It'll go lovely with some deli meats. We actually have some in, all fresh from down the road," you offer, heading back into the kitchen. "You know what, I'll just make a big spread, and you can all help yourselves— anything that doesn't get eaten, you can take home."

You make a start on the sandwiches, creating a few different types for them all to graze on - taking in some extra cereal bars, fruits and bags of crisps. You make a sandwich for yourself and pull a chair to sit at the head of the table, talking casually with the strangers at your table.

After a while, the rain began to calm, and the men gathered their things to leave. You handed them small tinfoil parcels with extra food before waving them off, watching them move past Tan's car that was driving up the driveway. 

"Who're they?" Tangerine asks as he steps out of his car, staring the van down until it's out of view. 

"I don't know, some construction workers," you shrug, opening your arms to him - silently welcoming him home. "Good day?" you ask, pressing a kiss into his cheek.

He hums, seemingly distracted from the dark logoless van. "Did you?" he asks, draping an arm over your shoulder as you walk inside - side hugging you.

"Yes, very good, thanks. Went to the farmer's market this morning— got some pastries, oh and some jams. You'll love them," you smile, wrapping an arm around the middle of his back. "You hungry?" you ask, placing your spare hand over his tummy. 

"A little," he softly chuckles, silently admiring your sweetness. 

You press another kiss into his cheek, soothing over his dishevelled hair. "You go shower, I'll whip you up something."

psa, don't invite strangers into your home

[at1nys-blog]

Some stories gets told: The start

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x reader

Summary: After the duel with Mihawk, reader can't seem to leave Zoro's side while he is fighting between staying alive and reaching for an old friend

A/N: the way I am putting so much efforts in this is crazy, literally watching scenes in loop to understand how to add things and if they actually work in the original setting of the live action. I mentioned de@th a couple of times but briefly considering how long this is getting. Created a new village on Gecko Island for the sake of this ff Miro Village does not exists in the world of one piece, if it does I'm a lucky mf lol.

Pt.1\Masterlist\\Pt.2

If three days ago people would have told her she was going to fight Kalahadore and his minions, she would have laughed at her faces; if three days ago people would have told her she was going to enjoy a trio of wanna be pirates she would have laughed it off saying that the only crew she was going to join was the same as Yasopp's; if three days ago people would have told her that she was going to face one of her greatest fears, she would have joked about it, but there she was after a fight with Kaya's butler in the company of three wanna be pirates.

The bar was filled with pirates and some Marines, or so she thought. Her blurry vision was not of help, everyone dressed in blue or white, or white and blue, was a possible enemy that was waiting for the right time to strick an attack and bring them back to headquarters.

-...sea slug.-she heard the swordsman say, confused to why he was talking about sea slug, which, by the way, she thought were very cute, she asked for some explanations. Nami only pointed at Usopp, dancing with his usual grace and talent, if that could even be called grace or talent.

-Look at him. Like he doesn't have a care in the world.- the orange haired girl stated, she wanted to replay, to say that in reality Usopp was just putting on a facade, but who was she to spill secrets that were not of her owns? No one, so she just kept quite and went back to her drink. A not well made one on her humble opinion, but at least she was able to drink and have fun.

The girl, once again that night, went back into her own thoughts forgetting she was in company but even if she wanted to have a conversation with the two in her heart she knew it wasn't a good idea. Not when drunk and knowing such state meant spilling everything that was on her mind.

-..you drink.- that was the key word that got her attention, if drinking was in the equation she wanted to be part of whatever they were doing. -You guess something about me, I drink.- he said pouring some of the rum in three little glasses.

-uuhhh I want to play.-

-Not now.-they both said in unison.

-First round is between me and the thief.- Zoro said not taking his eyes off of Nami which smirked at the boy.

If her attention was on Usopp and having her drink, now it was on her two new friends having a drinking game.

-I bet yu grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one.-Zoro was the first one to try and guess under Nami advice, she gave him a second smirk. Y/N imagines the swordsman got it wrong from how the girl next to her reacted. And she was right.

-You might be thirsty.-Nami said. -I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just an handful of houses in the center of a tangerine grove.- Y/N started to picture how beautiful that might have been, that once again her mind alienated her from the conversation.

Y/N didn't know how long she was gone in her little world, but when she was back to reality second round was on, and this time she wanted to partecipate, but aparently the universe didn't want her to play that Usopp came back at the table with "his new best friend" or whatever.

-What did you say your name was again?-he asked sitting next to Nami.

-Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?-Y/N noticed Nami trying to get some informations out of the new nameless guy, asking who wanted to know such a question.

-You are Dracule Mihawk.- the name didn't ring any bell to Y/N, she had never heard that name, or at least while she was intoxicated from all the alcohol she had, the name was completely new to her ears.

-I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over.- she noticed the man didn't like to beat around the bush, he just wanted to get to Luffy.

-We don't know anyone named Luffy. Right, guys?- Y/N looked at Nami confused.

-What do you mean we don't know him? He came here with us.- she turned to the elegant dressed man and told him that Monkey D. Luffy was somewhere around the Baratie but she didn't know exactly where.

-You are unbeliavable.-

-What? Is true he was with us and now he is not.- she defended herself, the two of them started to bicker: Nami trying to explain to her friend why she was supposed to lie, but their attention was back at Zoro when they hard him saying Mihawk, was it Mihawk?, she didn't care much, what she cared about was why for the East Blue did he say that the man was going to die the very next day.

In that moment Y/N was sober in an instant, her brain was back to function normally and so her body. She moved forward, motion followed by the girl next to her, she wanted to understand fully what was happening, maybe she heard wrong. Maybe Zoro was just playing around but even if she had known the man for less than a week she could tell he never joked, at least not about somo random guy dying.

-I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death.-

-To the what now?- she said as a reflex, it was not like she meant to say out loud but it happens and the fact that Mihawk was staring at her was not helping her nervouness to settle down. The man turned back almost immediatly letting the green haired swordsman know he never heard of him, implying how small of a fly he was in his eyes.

-They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter. But my lifelong dream it to best you in single combat and become the greatest swordsman in the world.- now that is a great dream compared to hers, that just wanted to live numerous adventures and write about them.

Y/N started to second guess if starting such a journey was even worth it, she was surrended by people with amazing dreams, even Usopp had a better dream than hers. She shook the thoughts away, now she had to more important matter to care about.

Once the challenge was accepted and the time was set Mihawk left and she was on her feet in an instant, she tried to say something but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. She was speechless, Zoro did not just challenged someone that, for what she got from their conversation, is the most powerful and skilled swrodsman out there.

-You just have signed up your death sentence, you idiot.- she said and left to head back to the Going Merry.

Zoro was polishing his swords when Usopp came back with Luffy behind him, Y/N was silently listening to the conversation happening in the room, not really knowing how to handle the situation. Sure wasn't her friend, how could he be after a day they have known each other? But she didn't want him dead already.

Words of the conversation came and didn't so her brain didn't process half of what they had been talking about, she just knew Nami was trying her best to change Zoro's mind.

It was after Luffy and Usopp left the room that Zoro spoke directly to her that night, asking why she was still there.

-The promise.- she had heard that part, his dream was a promise made to someone; he was going to die just for a promise he made in the past. -did you made it to your friend?- he didn't answer but his body language told her everything she wanted to know. -in that case, I hope you are not going to die. Good luck.- she said walking outside ready to go and try to have some good sleep.

Waking up the next morning felt like a task, her head was pouding so much that if she had too many thoughts her head was going to explode in milion pieces for the lack of space. Trying to stand up from her hammock without falling was another task she didn't know how she managed to carry out, her legs feeling like jelly pudding but she managed to stay on her feet and following the boys outside, after wearing a pair of sunglasses.

The duel started and Y/N wanted to go back on the ship. She didn't want to see Zoro lose, she believed Zoro was a strong fighter and very much the most talented swordsman she ever knew but if his opponent had decided to use a tiny sword that looked like more like a knife, there was a high chance his friend was going to die in the worst case scenario.

The first time the weapon inflicted a scar on Zoro, Y/N gasped and hold onto Usopp to not fall butt flat on the ground for the scare it gave her.

-Why don't you retreat?- Mihawk's voice was cold, dry of any type of emotion when he spoke to him.

-I can't.-

-He can't.- a whisper, taken away from the wind in an istant, not Usopp nor Luffy behind her heard what she said and she was glad. She didn't want to explain herself, not right now.

-Or my dream will be lost forever.- and this is when things got for the worse. The swordsman took out Yoru, the sword he carries on his back and there was a fraction of seconds after the collision between the weapons where it felt like time stopped for good. Then the glenging of Zoro's swords hitting the ground broken into pieces. Y/N gasped, holding tighter on her best friend's arm.

The green haired boy sheated his good sword in place, opened his arms to form a T with his whole body. Tension grew in the air, everyone knew what was going to happen.

While the rest of the crew gave a glance towards each other she couldn't. Her eyes, even if weakened by the bright sun rays, couldn't leave the form of the boy that was about to die in a second now.

-ZORO- Luffy was the first to react, in a second the boy with the straw hat was next to his first mate, hoping to not see him dying in his hands. The conversation him and Mihawk had came in and out Y/N ears, she was focused on praying for the boy to not die.

Usopp was next, he run to his friends' side, pulling her with him in the process, she tripped loosing the grip on his best friend and falling on the ground. Nami tried to help her up, asking if she was okay but she was just able to keep silent.

It was just like when she was a kid and her father had died; it was like when she was a little girl and saw his first friend die, it was as if death was following her wherever she was going collecting people she loved one after the other. Her nails became such an important thing to stare at, she couldn't stand the sight of the pirates around Zoro, trying to speak comforting words that he was going to be okay.

He is not going to be okay, she thought, how could he? He had lost already too much blood and the more they were staying there doing nothing the more he was going to be more on the other side.

It was Nami that brought everyone back to reality and started to shout orders left and right. She asked the boys to take Zoro from the arms while she and Y/N would hold him from the legs.

Everything became a race with time, the more they wasted the more likely was for Zoro to die of blood loss. The four of them put him on the table of the kitchen; Usopp started to run around trying to find some towels or everything that could come in handy; Nami checked on the wounds; Luffy started to space out, every type of noise started to fade out and Y/N didn't know what to do, once again in her life she didn't know how to save another life.

-Someone...- the (your hair color) haired girl knew what she had to do, if no one was of any help she had to find someone that could be. She sprinted outside heading back to the resturant, they had to have a doctor or some sort of thing, didn't they? If that was not the case she was just unlucky.

Entering the resturant she clumsly tried to remember where was the kitchen, the place wasn't that big but in her mental state it was going to be hard remembering her own name.

When she found the door she rushed in, getting the chef and waiter's attention. The blond guy smirked, ready to flirt with her but noticing the worried expression on her face he just asked her if everything was fine.

-Nothing is fine.-she catched her breath for a moment. -Zoro got... He has a very pretty bad sword wound we need a doctor.- please tell me there is one on board, please please please. Her eyes were staring at the owner of the establishment and her face dropped when he said that the closest one was two days from there. Just my luck.

-I can't help you. Hope your friend makes it.-

-No, please you have to help us, please. Maybe there is a doctor on...-

-Ehy, where do you think you're going?- she wanted to punch the chef, he was totally ignoring her call of help and cared more where his waiter was going than on the live or death situation she presented him.

-To help her friend.- said Sanji

-Brunch is not gonna prep itself.- he reminded him. She was totally going to punch him if he ignored once again what was happening.

-You always told me to feed anyone who's hungry.- she heard him saying while looking around the room. -I don't see how this is any different.- he added.

The owner of the resturant sighed, realizing that he had no other choice but try and do somethig to help the dying kid.

-Fine. Bring me my kitchen knives and a bottle of our best whiskey. And a fresh yellowtail from the cooler. Bigger the better.-he ordered and started walking outside. Sanji was confused, why would Zeff need a yellowtail? -Just do it already.-

Y/N walked them to the Merry and once she pointed the direction of the kitchen, she let them go in first. She wanted to stay away from there, she didn't want her bad luck to linger over Zeff while he worked on Zoro's wounds.

It had been some time since the two chefs came to stich the swordsman up so when she saw the chef leaving the kitchen she jumped on her feet asking how her friend was doing. Zeff assured her the guy was resting but only time could have told if he was going to live or not.

She walked inside meeting eyes with Usopp, Luffy stop tending on Wado and looked at her, giving the girl a forced smile, and she did the same. She was in no shape for smiling sincerely.

-How is he doing?-her tone was almost inaudible if it wasn't for the lack of noises.

-He is resting now, we are hoping for the best.-Usopp answered, she looked in the direction of Nami's room but then changed her mind. She didn't want for her bad luck to make things worse.

Usopp noticed. He always did. He had know her for a long time now and could read her like an open book. He knew what she had to go through, she had told him, trusting in his vow to not say a thing.

-You can go and talk to him. Maybe he would like to hear from a more gentle voice.- he joked.

-I heard that.- that made her laugh a little and she made a note to herself to thank her best friend for the joke.

-But...-he started again, Y/N stopped him, it was fine. She was going to stay in her room for the time being hoping that everything was going to get better.

-What's up with her?-Asked a worried Sanji looking the girl dissapearing from his view. After she had left the cook tried to get some info out the sniper but the man brushed it off lying that he wished to know as well.

Entering her room she locked herself in, not wanting people in for now, she wished for some alone time.

She went to the little desk and turned on the snail radio searching for a station worth listening to hear. Every station she picked were talking about some piracy activity around the East Blue or the New World, some had music but nothing that was of her taste. Her patience was running short, nothing was good enough, growing impatience she took the snail and throw it away.

The object made a loud noise that had been heard downstairs for sure, but she didn't care. She really didn't. She got herself under the blanket, cold running throught her body even tho the weather was pretty warm.

It took her nothing to fall asleep, and to be surrended by her nightmares coming back to make her sleep difficult. Between the faces that she was used to see screaming at her, putting the blame on her a new was added to the crowd: Zoro's. He wasn't talking like the others, he was silently looking at her dissapointment all over his features. Y/N tried to apologize, but words couldn't come out, they were stuck making her choke on air.

-Z...-nothing, her throat felt dry, like the ground back in Syrup Village during the drought. She felt powerless as usual. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, she wanted to apologize but it was hard when the only thing you can do is breath.

Breating, the only thing she was able to do was to breath but with time she found herself having an hard time doing that as well, dropping on the ground. Tears creeped out her eyes, watering her eye line but she tried her best to fight the urge to cry her eyes out.

She woke up covered in sweat and sighed asking herself when was she going to stop having nightmares or was she going to live like that forever? If that was the case she hoped the sea was going to take her as soon as possible, before she was going to lose her mind.

After a quick shower and a change of outfit she tippy toed outside her room making sure no one was around she headed to check on Zoro. She was happy to see they were alone in that moment.

She closed the door behind her and for a moment she pondered if it was a better idea go back to her room and stay there untill her friends were back, no she decided to keep Zoro company for a while. Maybe she didn't really know what to say, but the words were going to come at some point, wouldn't they?

She moved the chair closer to the bed he was resting on, glanced for a while his hand. Was oaky for her to hold it? Was he going to even feel it? She didn't know what to do, she had found herself in that position countless of times and yet it was just like the first time.

-Zeff told me it is a good idea to talk to you but honestly I don't even know what to say.- she thought she was sounding stupid, who on the seven seas starts a conversation like that? Her for sure. -Usopp hasn't always been my best friend, I had one before I met him. She was older than me, not much older, just two years of diference.- she smiled. -I was new to Miro Village. The first two months she was really mean to me so I would avoid her most of the times, even thought she would find ways to bully me so I gave up. She did everything in her power to make me upset, she blamed everything on me to get me in trouble like that one time she stole an entire cart of fruits and told the major it was my fault. He had to call in my parents, they wanted to talk to my dad about my behaviour but little they know he was dead. He had died some weeks prior I moved there, the journey wasn't that long since I used to live nearby but no one knew, how could they? Is not like I talked about it nor anyone cared to ask why a lonely little girl walked miles to get there, they were just happy there was someone doing the jobs no one wanted. She apologized for how she treated me but to be honest with you it wasn't that important, she was the only one that paid attention to me, yes you might argue it was not the best way but when you are a kid that goes unnoticed you kinda of like it when someone talks to you, even if is just to make fun of you.- she took a deep breath, now it came the hard part. -We started to get closer and closer until one day pirates raided the village, they took her because she was trying to protect little ol' me. They killed her on the spot and I was going to follow her if it wasn't for a random citizen pumbing into the pirate. It gave me the window to run away and I found shelter in Syrup Village where I met Usopp. Sometimes I see her in my dreams, she is always mad at me because I ran away and I didn't help her, sometimes I think back at...-

Someone was on board, she could tell, checking who was she felt safe seeing her captain. Luffy walked past her ignoring her presence, not because he didn't like her, for all the seas if that was the case she couldn't even have thought on putting a single foot on his ship, the captain had to fix the problem first thing first.

-Hey, Zoro. You sure missed a big fight. Those fishman guys were though. You would have loved it.- she smiled, knowing that was 100% so true. -...great dinner. All of us sitting around together, listening to Usopp's stories. Only I kinda messed it up. And now I lost Nami.- schock was painted all over Y/N, what was he talking about? Losing Nami? How? When? Why?

-...but I know what to say now, and is so simple. I need you, Zoro. I need you to wake up.- the girl felt ashemed, she wasn't able to say those simple words, indeed went on about her childhood friend that died to protect her. She was glad that her captain got the courage to say those words.

-You gonna keep talking, or let me get some sleep? Geez, you people really like to talk uhm?- Luffy jumped on top of Zoro, Y/N was only able to stare at the two boys in front of her. He was alive, how? She was pretty sure he was done for. She thanked whoever decided to let him live.

Luffy hugged his first mate, making him groan out of pain.

-Luffy, Luffy get off you are hurting him.- the girl said and before she could help the straw hat pirate down he was already on his feet.

She was now standing next to Luffy, looking at Zoro with a small smile on her face.

-I had the strangest dream that Nami left.-

-She did.-

-What do you mean she did? Why?-

-It's my fault. She left...- he started but Zoro cut him off.

-No, you didn't do anything wrong. You acted like a captain.- Luffy couldn't understand, if he did actually act like a captain, why was the crew falling apart more and more? -No, it's not. I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Until we find the One Piece or die trying.- he kept on with his vow and Y/N could only admire the boy for that. She started thinking if she was in any position to vow eternal loyalty or if her presence on the Going Merry was just temporary, she hoped not for the latter.

-so what do you say?-

-What?-

-Do you want to be part of my crew as a loyal member?-she was taken aback, no one had ever asked for her opinion on important metters, she grew up following orders. If she was told to do something her only concern was to carry on the task, no question asked, but now? Now she was given the chance to choose: eaither stay on board and become a part of the Straw Hat pirates, or leave and starting fresh a new life somewhere else.

-If you accept me, I'll be honored to follow you and protect this crew and the one in needs.-

-Of course I accept you, why would have I asked to join in the first place? Now...- the three of them got interrupted by Usopp screaming and happy to see his friend awake.

-I wasn't worried for a second.-

-Yeah, not worried at all, in fact I was the one...-

-HE IS ALIVE.-he said raising with such force his hand and Zoro's in the process, making the wounded guy groan out of pain.

-LUFFY STOP. - she separeted the two, taking Zoro's hand in hers. -For all the seas, you are going to give him an embaracing death one of those days I am telling you.- she was still holding his hand when the green haired swordsman cleared his throat to get her attention. -Sorry.-

-So, now what we do? Plot a curse to the Grand Line?-

-No, not yet.- was his answer.

-But I thought we were going after the One Piece?-

-We are, but we can't do it without our whole crew.- she smiled, knowing exactly where he was going with that. First mission before heading to the Grand Line: getting Nami back.

-Great, now you two start getting everything ready. I am going to change his bandage.-

-I can do...-the captain started.

-I am not leaving the first mate under your care. You keep treating him like a doll. Now please let get ready to leave.

-I can do it myself.- he groaned trying his best to stand up, but failed.

-dude, you can't even seat without help. Now shut up and let me help you.- he let a small "fine" not sure about the whole situation but it was either that or groaning every two seconds. And as much as his ego screamed at him that it wasn't to be that bad, he gave up and thought that maybe he really needed a little bit of help.

[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. 

[saccharinosis]

IN OUR AMBER HOUSE (M!Yandere OC x GN!reader) - 1.9k words

(Warnings: manipulation?? General yandere things yeah under cut)

WHERE WAS HE? Anxious eyes peeked through the veil of blinders, panning across sun-soaked suburbia. Previously grey skies diffused with splashes of tangerine and rosy inks glowed above asphalt roads, hugged by pavement and dirty gold lawns which preceded duplicate houses—houses that harboured spouses who just arrived home to their loved ones. Yours was not one of them.

You glanced back at the clock; ‘5:32pm’, it read. It only takes him twenty minutes to get home—what's taking him so long? He was always the punctual type.

Anxiety twisted your thoughts into a web of indecipherable ramblings: what if he got into an accident at work? Or a car crash coming home? What if he decided to abandon you just like everyone else? What were you to do then? You couldn’t survive on your own. The train ticket hidden beneath the laundry machine weighed heavy on your conscience. Guilt seeped into the open wound of worries, for ever thinking anything sinful of his character. He was your lifeline.

Or maybe…

Maybe you should step outside—

Tires crackled. False storm clouds climbed out an exhaust pipe’s silver chimney, revving thunder. Your wide eyes glued themselves to the window. The aegean blue vintage Camaro rolled into view. He’s home.

You sprinted from the window to the entrance. Through the door you could hear the thumping of his powderhorn boots, soon coming to a halt. The jingling of metal alerted you to back away from the entrance. When the door creaked open, you jumped, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the faux fur of his hood. A deep inhale; the faint scent of ashwood, pumpkin spice and vanilla was familiar to you. You felt the vibrations of chuckles from within his chest, arms slithering around your waist.

“Sorry I’m late, honey. I forgot something at work,” he said softly.

His words carried a certain lilt, weightless and airy, leaving you full of sweet nothings and starved of candour. Did he really? You decided not to reply, tightening your grip as if he’d vanish into thin air.

“Aw,” he removed one of his arms, tilting your chin up with a finger, “were you worried about me?” Gold were his eyes, flecked with scarlet. Amber.

“... yeah,”

He brushed aside your hair, planting a kiss on your forehead. He moved to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, the side of your jaw—you attempted to pull away from the onslaught of kisses, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place.

“Lovel—”

Your protests were subdued when his lip met yours. The hand on your waist pulled your bodies flush against each other, while the other cradled the back of your head, fingers entangled in locks of hair. A tantalising heat roiled in your chest as you reciprocated with overwhelming fervour. When you were just about running out of air, he let you pull back, winded.

“You were saying earlier?” Lovel asked, his own breathing slightly heavier.

“Uh—I should go finish cooking,” you pressed your hands against his chest.

“Let me help you then.”

As you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t find the words to refuse. Your hands ghosted over the base of his neck, feeling sheepish as he stared, before helping him unzip his olive green coat. It slid off with the ease of a snake shedding its skin, and you hung it upon the coat rack while he kicked off his boots. In just a moment his hand intertwined in yours, leading you to the kitchen which held your work-in-progress.

Muted sunlight drifted through the windows, leaving the corners and crevices of the room vignetted. Upon the porcelain enamel countertops rested a cutting board alongside a myriad of vegetables. Nearby, a stream of steam billowed from the vents of the rice cooker whose red light flickered, already prepared. Thawed meat sat in a large pan on the burner.

“I’ll handle the meat. Would you cut the rest of the vegetables for me?”

You nodded. He patted your head, moving to the stove. As you returned to work, you couldn’t help but take glances at your fiance from the corner of your eye. He looked to be in his element, the sleeves of his black turtleneck pulled to his elbows as he shifted the pan around. A mellow tune, so relaxed yet precise, rose and fell from his throat like a threaded needle weaving through silk. You turned back to the cutting board, knife hovering above a stalk of scallions.

You were grateful, truly grateful, that in spite of all your other friends, he was the only one who stayed by your side. That when university and life’s unfortunate happenings reared their ugly heads, he was always there to listen and lend you a shoulder. He was the only one who cared about you. He was the only one who loved you.

And it was suffocating.

The same day reiterated itself. You wake up. You get dressed. You wish Lovel a good day at work. You do insignificant tasks. You wait for him. You greet him when he gets home—actually, that’s the only time when you felt like life had any meaning. Although there’s twenty-four hours in a day, your life was sequestered to the golden hour when he was home, when the etiolated sun rolled gold fog over the neighbourhood (and sometimes, what felt like in your head). You loved him. Yet something about the way he loved you left you feeling hazy; the perpetual golden hour, the stagnant sunlight like a flickering bulb in a dusty attic, it was all-consuming.

“What’re you thinking about?” he whispered, his breath fanning your ear.

A chill rushed through you. His hands rested on the counter on either side of you, your back pressed against his chest.

“It’s nothing.”

You felt the weight of his gaze sear into your skin. Your eyes fixated on the cutting board in front of you; the knife slipping from your trembling grasp. Huh. You didn't realise you were shaking. He hummed, fingers thrumming over the countertop.

“You wouldn’t hide anything from me, right?”

You shook your head.

“Use your words.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Good.”

He pressed his lips against your temple. Yet the air remained thick with tension, cloying your visage.

“I’m feeling a bit nauseous actually,” you said, removing one of his arms around you. “I’m going to the washroom.”

You left without another word, his stare glued to your back until the hallway turned around the corner. Almost instantly, the heavy atmosphere receded. You shook off the rest of the nerves as you walked. The hall itself stretched on, lined doorway after doorway which glowed dimly under marigold lights. One of such arcs emitted a light brighter than the rest.

You paused. To the right, the sun chiselled a passage between flowing curtains, its lustrous path resting at your feet. Its glimmer enveloped you in a trance, and thus you followed it: a moth to a flame, step by step. With a slight tug at the fabric, you unveiled a sky rippling of tuscan and silver, goldleaf clouds dappled across its expanse—your backyard, still like a painting. The only thing that stood between you and the outside was a glass door. You twisted your head back to the hallway. No one was there. It’ll be okay, you thought. You’ll just take a quick look.

Your hands gripped the edge of the panel, pulling it open merely a smidge. Crisp autumn wind caressed your face, and compared to the stale air inside, you’ve begun to realise liberty’s absence. You dragged the door the rest of the way, invigorated with newfound confidence. Tucked by the entrance was a pair of grey slippers a few sizes bigger than yours, beckoning you to wear them. Your heart pounded. It took but a second to slip them on. It took a few more for you to leap over the border and meet dirt. The grass reached its bowed arms over the exposed skin of your feet, swaying alongside your movements. You couldn't hold back the laugh bubbling up your throat as you hopped further down the yard.

Something twinkled in the sandy sky. You looked up. The sky’s gift landed atop your nose—a snowflake. For a moment you could examine its byzantine structure: geometric symmetry, hexagonal lattices forming crystalline branches. Mother nature’s perfect selenite flora, and just as fragile. Opaque white thawed into a glassy dome, almost like a snowglobe.

“What are you doing out there?”

Lovel’s voice piqued your ears. You tensed. Twisting around, his golden gaze flared in the sunset. He was omnipresent.

He murmured softly, similar to coaxing a hare, “Come back in, you’ll get cold.”

You hesitated.

“(Y/N). Come back.” Now.

That tender smile returned to his face as you ambled up the porch. An arm reached around your shoulder, as if he thought you might get lost. Together, you walked back inside. Back home. Another iteration.

When you turned, attempting to get one last glance at the backyard, he had already pulled the curtains close. Gold. Yet sunrays seeped through the sheer polyester, giving it a luminous, almost gelatinous quality. Like resin beginning to set. He turned to face you.

“If you wanted to go outside, you could’ve asked me.”

‘What does it matter if the answer is no?’ you thought, the sour words held back by the cage of your lips, but not through your eyes. He read your expression.

“Winter’s soon. We both know you’re more susceptible to cold. Do you remember last year?”

“... Yeah.”

“And what kind of future husband would I be to let my love get sick like that again?”

Whatever irritation you harboured melted off from the heat creeping up your face; you looked away. It seemed he always knew what to say.

“We can continue this later. I finished dinner.”

The guilt-ridden wound throbbed dully. You really couldn’t do anything without him. From frustration, to endearment, to shame he orchestrated your emotions in a contorted cacophony until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other started. The world around you blurred as your mind focused on the saline aftertaste of discomfort on your tongue. It is in your best interest to stay. Even so, you think that maybe there’s a world waiting for you outside this house. You want to bask in the extraordinary life of an average person: getting a job, buying a car, being independent.

Your eyes drift down to your feet. Gold wraps around the edge of your toes, ever so languidly creeping up the rest of your figure. Maybe it's too late. Maybe the amber had already crystallised, encasing your body to the confines of your own home.

But when you thought back to that snowflake, so bright and delicate, you couldn’t help but hope. That with the winter and the death of all things so would this old life find its conclusion; and in the dawn of liquescence you’d break through the icy surface, riding the springtide.

“.../N)?”

Twin suns melted the mirage of your mind. Lovel smiled at his seizure of your attention. He threaded his fingers through the contours of your hands, the sensation of skin-against-skin leaving fervid solar flares in its trail. Every inch of you drowned and burned in sunlight.

Yes, you thought. You couldn’t wait for an eclipse.

[sebsbarnes]

scarlet flags || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: you called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me

warnings: suggestive- minimal descriptions, toxic situationship

word count: 860+

masterlist

"you don't get to call me every time you get lonely, then pretend you don't know who i am when i'm not hidden behind the walls of your room" you spit, the venom in your tone nearly lethal.

he tutted as you turned away, "don't be ridiculous, angel."

you snapped your head to him, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest, face mere millimeters from his, "you!- you don't get to call me that. don't you fuckin' call me that.

tangerine lazily intertwined his fingers in yours as he hovered above your body. his lips moved soft yet feverishly against your own, it was bliss. you felt intoxicated and you silently prayed the high wouldn't come down. tangerine pulled away and started peppering kisses across your cheek until he reached the skin below your ear. with his teeth he nipped at the flesh pulling it into his mouth, surely to leave a purple splotch on your skin, his mark as if he were an artist. tangerine slid down your body, his lips ghosting down your chest and stomach until he got to your underwear, and through his dark lashes, he looked at you.

"is this okay, angel?" he whispered, his fingers wrapping around the waistband.

angel. this was the first time he called you that. it made your stomach flip, angel. you loved the inflection in his accent when he spoke the nickname. the nickname for you. you felt like you were his. it made your heart leap and you swore a piece of itself landed in tangerine.

"okay, okay! i won't call you angel," tangerine said defensively.

you rolled your eyes in disgust, racking a hand through your hair. he was agitating, this conversation was agitating. tangerine was a smart man so it was surprising when he seemed to act dense to avoid conflict.

"besides, i don't know where you got the idea that i ignore you in public love, i don't," he said crossing his arms.

"oh really? so last week at the gathering? or the gathering before that? you looked through me, like a window, pretended i was nonexistent. do you not realize how that feels?" you spewed.

a silent nod was all he gave you when you greeted tangerine at the work event. perplexed, you raised an eyebrow at his retreating figure but didn’t dwell on it too long now being sidetracked by ladybug. these work gatherings were really an excuse to drink and boast about whatever successful mission you had just come back from. truthfully, they were boring, but it was an unspoken rule that it was mandatory.

ladybug chatted about his healing foot from a gunshot wound but your eyes and mind were elsewhere. across the dimly lit room, tangerine stood with a puffed-out chest talking about the recent bolivia job. his eyes would wander across those listening, soaking in the praise before looking at you. it was quick and not like he had been caught, but as though it was an accident.

watching as his eyes looked up and down at one of the women standing beside him, he smoothed out his mustache before placing a hand on her waist. she threw her head back in laughter and her lips forming the word 'please' as she toyed with his collar.

you hate how you felt. you weren't his, you knew that, but you spent countless hours underneath his sheets and on top of his body and to sit here and be nonexistent made you mad, made you feel little. unfortunately, tangerine had a way of still making you want him and you know you shouldn't. it's funny, really, how his true colors shine in darkness and secrecy.

"c'mon, it wasn't like that, love," he tsked, uncrossing his arms and taking a step forward.

"but it was," you said pointedly.

tangerine sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, "y'know i'm no good at this stuff."

"i don't care if you don't want a serious relationship, tangerine. what i care about is having some respect and not being some disposable body. and what i hate the most is you keep drawing me in and you aren't even doing anything," you spoke.

it was the truth. you'd text each other how you miss the other, saying you wish you could feel him in you, or he'd say he misses your skin and you'd find your way over to his apartment. he'd greet you at the door with strong arms around your waist. most times few words were spoken before you'd find yourself in his bed with his head between your legs crying out to some foreign god.

what you hated most was standing before him now, his eyebrows pulled together and his tongue sucking at his teeth you still felt the unseen magnetic pull to him. you knew that eventually the piece of your heart that leapt into his the first time he called you angel would be broken. though, in this moment you knew after a few more bitter words and rolling eyes you'd find yourself in his arms again, and again. somehow tangerine's scarlet flags would always be washed out in the light of his room.

[i-smell-sass]

A Sweet Treat (Called Tangerine) PT1

A/N: Reader is intended to be trans, but can be read as amab too. i fucking love tangerine. also, i HC them using code names that start with each other’s initials, like tangerine’s name being Lucille and lemon’s name being Theo

Pairing/Relationships: Tangerine x Male Reader (R), Lemon x Male reader (P), Ladybug x Male reader (P) R: romantic, P: platonic

Summary: Male reader is assigned the Snatch and Grab job with Ladybug on the bullet train to Kyoto, on which he meets a handsome and charismatic assassin duo with fruity code names.

Requested: Yes/No

Warning(s): Basically all of what happens in the movie. Very self indulgent.

Genre: Fluff with a little angst

Pronouns used for Y/N: He/him

Codename: Weasel

Weasel sighed as he walked, checking his phone in frustration. He’d lost track of where Ladybug is, and was walking aimlessly down the Train car walkway in hopes of seeing Ladybug. Due to him looking down at his phone, he hadn’t noticed Tangerine standing up from his seat, causing him to bump into the man. ”Fuckin’ Hell, man. Can you watch where you’re goin’?” Tangerine asked, his british accent heavy with frustration.

“Oh, shit, sorry man. I wasn’t looking.” Weasel muttered, face at chest height. His eyes slowly traveled up, settling on Tangerine’s face. His breath hitched and caught in his throat as his eyes settled on Tangerine’s deep blue ones. “Really, it was an accident. I apologize.” He muttered, panicked. Was it getting hot in here or was he imagining things?

“’S fine, i guess. Just pay attention next time.” Tangerine muttered with a tense, in-genuine grin before squeezing by the smaller male, one hand on his shoulder. It was large, and warm, making Weasel shiver softly. “Fuck, he’s hot.” He muttered under his breath, closing his eyes as he got a whiff of Tangerine’s cologne. It was earthy, musky and calming. Straightening his jacket out before shaking his head, Weasel went back to finding Ladybug, focusing on the mission.

He’d later found Ladybug in the 1st class lounge, cleaning up glass shards. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, brows furrowed as he saw the blonde crouched on the floor, shoving the glass shards into the trash along with his trenchcoat. “Oh, Hi! i’m just.. um.” Ladybug muttered, his eyes nervously flicking over to The Wolf’s corpse sitting on a lounge chair.

“Oh my god. What did you do?” Weasel asked his brows furrowed. He glanced over at The Wolf, his eyes narrowing walking over to his corpse, tilting his head back to feel his pulse. “You killed him. Seriously?! Already?” He asked in a hushed whisper, his hands coming out in a frustrated shrug motion.

“Look, it was an accident.” Ladybug defended weakly, pulling his bucket hat onto his head. “Accident my ass. How do you ‘accidentally’ kill someone?” Weasel asked, raising a skeptical brow as he put both his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom would. “It just.. Kinda happened.” Ladybug muttered, shrugging.

Weasel rolled his eyes with a sigh, helping Ladybug cover up The Wolf’s body to make it look like he was sleeping before walking out with him. “You got the briefcase?” He asked, looking at Ladybug. “Yeah, Stashed it in the Trash can.” Ladybug replied, fixing his glasses.

Weasel stopped in his tracks, staring blankly at Ladybug. “Trash can? Really? That’s what you went with?” Ladybug shrugged with a small nod “Yeah. Why?” Weasel shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re a lost cause.” “You know, that really hurts my feelings” Ladybug complained. “Oh, shut it, softie.” Weasel muttered, giving a playful shove to Ladybug’s shoulder.

Later, Weasel sighed as he had lost track of where Ladybug was, making his way down the hallway. He saw Tangerine who had just jumped back into the train, the group of bad guys standing outside after talking to him. He seemed tense. “Who was that?” Weasel asked, looking up at Tangerine. “Huh? You again?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “I know you. You work with that guy, Ladybug.” He recalled, glaring as he pushed Weasel against the wall, grabbing him by his collar. “You give us that fuckin’ case or you’re gonna regret it.”

Weasel’s eyes widened, looking up at Tangerine. His face was so, so close, the faint smell of cigarettes clinging to him, his breath smelling like mint. “I don’t have it.” He whispered breathlessly, his cheeks dusting with a soft blush. God, he was useless. Usually Weasel could keep his cool, but with Tangerine around? Total nutjob. Can’t focus for the life of him. Their faces were so close, and Weasel’s eyes couldn’t help but wander from Tangerine’s bright blues down to his plump lips. He wondered how he’d taste. “What are you fuckin’ starin’ at?” Tangerine muttered, brows now furrowed in confusion.

”You.” Weasel replied, sighing softly in disappointment at himself. “You’re.. pretty.” He mumbled, hoping to save the situation that way. “..Pretty?” Tangerine replied, His mouth pulled into a frown as his brows furrowed tighter together. “Right what kinda fuckin’ joke is this?” He asked, a little frustrated, and Weasel squinted his eyes at the loud exclamation. “Not a joke.” He defended weakly. Then it clicked. Tangerine’s eyes widened slightly, brows lifting in surprise. “You’re into me?” He muttered, more to himself than to Weasel.

Weasel sighed, the blush deepening lightly. “I‘m not trying to get in your way. I don’t care about the briefcase. I’m just here to support Ladybug, and this job is getting too messy for a snatch and grab job. You can have it. It’s stashed in the trash can in the first class lounge.” He looked up into Tangerine’s confused eyes. “Serious?” Tangerine muttered and Weasel nodded.

”Okay. I won’t shoot you. Only if you tell your little friend to leave us the fuck alone.” Weasel nodded eagerly, breathing a bit labored. “I’ll do that. Just have to find him first.” He promised, losing himself in Tangerine’s eyes again. ”What?” He asked simply, and Weasel smiled. “Your eyes are pretty.” He replied, Tangerine’s eyes fluttering lightly as he looked to Weasel and then away. “Look, i can’t say you ain’t a handsome bloke yourself, but i kinda ‘ave a job to do right about now. Can’t afford distractions” He whispered. Weasel nodded, albeit a bit disappointed. “I understand.”

Tangerine pressed a light kiss to the back of Weasel’s hand before handing him a Buisness card, then pulling away. “Take my numba’ in case anythin’ happens. But don’t make my job harder for now. ‘kay, gorgeous?” Tangerine asked with a small, confident grin. That smile made him weak in the knees, The whisper of Tangerine's breath on his ear making him shiver. Weasel nodded with a blush, smiling up at Tangerine as well before the man strutted off to his brother. God, that walk could make anyone weak in the knees.

Weasel sighed as he walked through the train, shaking his jacket out to get rid of the glass shards in it. “You’re an idiot, Ladybug.” He huffed, fixing his hair as he looked back at Ladybug who was fixing himself up as well. Both were slightly bruised and bloody.

”I know, i know. But hey, at least we got the case!” Ladybug exclaimed with a way too bright smile, holding up the silver case. “Great!” Weasel muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes “Simple snatch and grab my ass. I’m never covering for carver again.” He grumbled as he pulled his gun out, switching the empty magazine for a full one. “Yeah, me neither.” Ladybug muttered, walking behind Weasel.

Weasel walked through the now empty train cars with Ladybug in tow, a determined stride in his step as he looked around at all the empty seats, brows furrowed. “What the fuck? Why are all the seats empty?” Weasel asked, voice a whisper. He had grabbed Lemon’s gun from where ladybug had hidden it behind the suitcases and put it back together, now one gun in his hand and the other stuffed into the back of his pants. Ladybug still refused to use a gun, which Weasel found plain stupid, but it was his death wish. Still, he kept the gun with him just in case.

Ladybug pushed in front of Weasel, walking into the Momonga train car. The Prince yelled for help as Tangerine had his gun pointed at her, and of course, Ladybug, as heroic and obnoxious as he is, jumped in to try to wrestle the gun out of Tangerine’s grip.

Weasel immediately jumped into action, pulling Ladybug away from Tangerine, or at least trying to. “LET GO YOU IDIOT!” Weasel yelled, kicking Ladybug’s shin to startle him. In that moment the gun fired, and Tangerine stumbled back. “FUCK! YOU FUCKING BELLEND!” Tangerine yelled, and Weasel gasped.

Weasel looked to Ladybug, noticing he hadn’t been shot. He quickly pushed Ladybug out of his way, coming to kneel down next to Tangerine who was sat on the floor. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SHOOT HER?! SHE’S THE FUCKIN’ DIESEL!” Tangerine yelled angrily, a hand clutched over where his shoulder met his neck, presumably where he’d been shot. The prince shook her head, crying and muttering some things about Tangerine lying and holding her hostage. “Shut the fuck up!” Weasel yelled, grabbing the gun Tangerine was shot with, cocking the hammer and shooting her in the calf. She yelped in pain, getting up and running further down the train.

Ladybug exclaimed in surprise, running after her after saying something along the lines of ‘you cant just do that’. Weasel sighed, pressing a hand over Tangerine’s, cupping his cheek. “You’re okay. Just your shoulder, nothing vital.” He whispered soothingly, and Tangerine grunted, eyes squeezed shut in pain. “Thanks fa’ savin’ me, Love. ‘Dunno what would’a happened if ya hadn’t Jumped in.” Tangerine mumbled with a small grin. Weasel nodded, leaning over to grab the first aid kit. “Of course. Even if we’re doing the same job, i couldn’t bring myself to let a beautiful man die.” Tangerine rolled his eyes at that, raising a brow. “That’s the best ya got?” He asked playfully, and weasel shrugged bashfully. “Hey, i’m trying here.”

Weasel ripped open the first aid kit, gently pulling Tangerine’s hand off the wound. He protested at first, but relented shortly after. “Just let me see.” Tangerine set his hand down, deciding on just switching out the empty bullets of his revolver for new ones. Weasel unbuttoned Tangerine’s shirt carefully, blushing lightly at the exposed bit of chest he could see. He went on to clean the wound best he could, bandaging it so he wouldn’t bleed out. “The bullet went through, You’re gonna be fine.” He reassured, pulling the end of the bullet out of Tangerine’s shoulder, with a little complaint from him.

“Where’s your necklace?” Weasel asked, noticing it was gone. “My brother.. he.. “ Tangerine trailed off, eyes seeming to go dim at that. “He died. Got shot. So i gave ‘im my necklace. Sentimental shit, Y’know?” He muttered with a sad chuckle, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s always hard to lose a family member.” He whispered, sighing. When he was done patching Tangerine up, he helped him up, smiling. “Fuck the briefcase. I think we should work together so we can make it out of here.” Tangerine gave a tight nod at that, squeezing Weasel’s hand. “Yeah, fuck that damn briefcase,” He mumbled with disdain in his voice.

They sat in the Momonga part of the train, talking about everything and nothing before Shigeru and Ladybug walked through that part, stopping at a toilet in the way between the train carts. Tangerine and Weasel looked confused at each other, not getting up yet. “What’s going on?” Weasel asked, brows furrowed. Tangerine shrugged best he could. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

They heard footsteps, and behind them, the door slid open, revealing Lemon, albeit with a very bloody shirt. “Tangerine!” Lemon exclaimed, Tangerine’s eyes shooting open, looking up at his brother “Lemon?! You’re alive?!” He asked loudly, getting up and looking his brother up and down. “You did wear the vest!” Tangerine smiled, eyes watering. “And you got shot in the neck!” Lemon pointed out. Tangerine shook his head as he pulled his brother in for a hug. “Come here you fuckin’ wanker.” he whispered, sighing into the hug. “You scared the shit outta me. I thought i’d lost ya.” He sighed, cupping his brothers cheek as he looked up at him. “Nah, You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easily.” Lemon replied with a bright grin of his own. Weasel stood up, smiling. “I think this might be yours.” He held out Lemon’s gun he’d found, smiling. “My gun! Where’d Joburg hide that?” Lemon asked happily, taking it and kissing the barrel. “Oh, it’s my favorite. Missed ya, beautiful.” He muttered to the gun before looking at Weasel again. “Thank you.” “It’s no problem.” Weasel smiled, rolling his shoulders. “Now, we have to get ready to fuck ‘em up.” Lemon and Tangerine gave sharp nods at that, and all 6 of them prepared to kill the White Death and his goons.

Weasel slowly came to, sighing as his head pounded. He Squinted at the bright lights, His hearing returning to flowing water and the crackling of electric wires. He stumbled outside, head pounding as he leaned against the door frame of the train car. Everything was a mess; train cars crashed into the side of traditional japanese houses, messing up the street and the broken train cars laying messily around. His eyes squinted at the bright lights of the morning sun, clutching his side where he was sure he had a bruised rib, if not worse.

”Where are the twins?” He asked Ladybug after the mess with the White Death happened. Ladybug shrugged. “Dunno. Haven’t seen them since they jumped out the train together.” Weasel’s eyes shot open. “They WHAT?” he exclaimed, panicking.

He groaned, holding his head as it pounded. He struggled to hear anything over the pain. Just was he looked up, a tangerine truck hit The Prince, killing her. His eyes shot open, looking around. As the truck stopped, Lemon jumped out, Laughing loudly. “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET! FUCKIN’ DIESEL, MAN!” He exclaimed, laughing at her corpse. Tangerine stumbled out as well, and they both looked soaked to the bone. Weasel stared at them, smiling, his shoulders sagging in relief as he saw them alive. He stumbled his way through the debris - albeit very clumsily and sluggishly. He moved to stand in front of Tangerine, grinning. “Need a distraction now?” He asked playfully, and Tangerine rolled his eyes fondly. “I’d love a distraction right about now, Darlin.” He mumbled, slinging his uninjured arm over Weasel’s shoulder, the three of them walking down the street in the morning light.

[silverguk]

Sub! Hinata Shoyo

Trigger warning- sex, belly bulge, dick riding, overstimulation, cum inflation.

Now close your eyes and just imagine hinata being the over enthusiastic lil tangerine he is and the amazing sex with him. You can fuck him for as long as you want but he never runs out of energy or feels that it's enough. So after 2 hours of continuous fucking, you are tired and have practically ran out semen but he continues to demand more of the sweet sweet pleasure.

So he just adjusts in the least you can do that is provide your dick to him so that he can ride it till hes fully satisfied that is actually if that could ever happen without your dick falling off. But the sight is so pretty, the way he rides your painfully hard dick at an almost unrealistic speed while you can see the prominent bulge appear on his stomach while your cock completely disappears in his hole. It's too pretty of a sight for you to ever say no to him as much as it overstimulates you.

With one final deep thrust the tiny male's legs give out as he plants his ass down and cums all over your chest, you can see his stomach bulge out with your semen which you weren't very sure you can any longer produce because of the excessive amounts of orgasm you had in the past few hours. The said male can finally feel the satisfaction bubble up in his heart after you have came for the n-th time.

Well none the less you love the lil carrot too much to ever say no to him no matter how much ur back hurts the next day.