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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

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borrow some sugar || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: You were living in the city, on your own. It was your dream though, you'd known it was far from home but you needed the space. Well, wanted the space. Didn't mean it wasn't lonely. The one time you actually met your neighbor, of course, you put your literal whole life in danger.

TW: blood, guns, murder, threats, cursing (it's Tangerine), protective!Tangerine (eventually), kidnapping, threats, and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: love a good normal person × Tangerine, and this is the epitome of that. Except you get way too wrapped up in it.]]

"Yeah, I know," you echoed out, fetching your keys out of your pocket -mindlessly walking through the hallway, "-I'm always safe, you know that."

Pressing your phone onto your shoulder, you heard a sort of bang -a heavy thud really, on the wall.

You furrowed your brows, the neighbor on that side was usually quiet. Like unusually quiet. You'd seen him, maybe once or twice in the hallway -he'd never said a word to you. Always wearing a suit and a super serious face, you'd assumed he was some sort of corporate worker with insane hours.

"Look," you spoke, unlocking your handle, "-I have to go, but I'll call you back tomorrow. I'm home already."

Slipping into your apartment, you sighed, pushing your phone into your pocket, dropping your keys, and taking off your shoes by the door. With the familiar thrum of your fridge, you mindlessly wander up to your couch and drop your bag.

It had been a terrible day at work, your boss was... well, your boss. And your work was exhausting, your feet hurt and your brain was working on the migraine of the century-

You just wanted to eat and watch your comfort TV show and turn your brain off -for an hour, at least. If not for the last few hours before you went to sleep, that was dream case scenario. Finally, when your brain was succumbing to the buzz of the voices, your eyes drifting shut, and the couch seemed so fluffy, there was a noise.

At first, you ignored it -figured it was your brain or something out in the hallway.

But then, it came back -a clear, harsh knock.

'2:30 am,' flashed across your screen as you looked at it, and then again, seriously, you thought you imagined it. Because who would that be?

You were fully awake now, leaning up on your couch, staring at your door -waiting, testing if it was real.

Knock.

Huh, you stood up -wiping at your eyes, and slowly slinking to the door.

"Hello?"

You don't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't what you saw.

It was your neighbor, sweaty with ripped clothes (a suit, you think) -was he ever in anything else? His eyes were lidded, nose bleeding, it stained his mustache, and you were pretty sure there was a knife in his shoulder-

"You 'ave any first aid?" He had an accent, a crazy accent that somehow suited him but you didn't expect at all.

"Are you-" you were in disbelief, "-Are you okay?"

He paused, before retorting -frankly, "Did you hear a fuckin' word I said, love?"

"Sorry, sorry," you swallowed, beckoning him inside, "-I think I have one in my bathroom. Just- Just sit at the counter."

"Right, thanks."

You weren't even sure your feet were touching the ground at this point, but still, you were quick -sifting through your cabinets.

A man is bleeding out in my kitchen, your brain panged, -a man is bleeding out in my kitchen.

Blinking, you mindlessly -in an entirely different way now- but directly made your way to the kitchen. A kit in your hand, you pinched yourself for a moment -this would be one weird fucking dream.

As you said, the man sat on a stool -blood dripping down onto your tile. You briskly wondered how to get that out, before sliding all the supplies across the countertop -the clatter filling the quiet air.

Pulling yourself onto the stool opposite him, you licked across your lips -fidgeting with some packaging.

"You couldn't just borrow some sugar?" you mumbled, taking out an alcohol wipe.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, frown still present on his lips -it seemed like it stayed there.

"This-" you motioned to him, "-is the first time we've met. You couldn't do a normal neighbor thing? Like borrow sugar-"

"Sorry, love," he rolled his eyes, "-I'll think of it fuckin' next time, yeah?"

"You should," you scoffed, "-I don't think every neighbor would appreciate bloodstains."

"And you do?"

"No," you stressed out, dabbing at a cut along his cheek -not the worst one but the first one you could handle right now, "-I am barely awake right now, and I'm half convinced you aren't even real-"

"Very real," he tsked, less biting this time.

You digested that information, swallowing dryly. A man, in some business, was on your stool, bleeding.

"Honest question," You pursed your lips, before focusing on another cut above his eyebrow. You were blatantly ignoring the knife, you literally had no idea-

"Go ahead," he huffed out, breaths puffing out of his chest.

"How the hell did you get stabbed?"

The man paused, thinking over his answer (why did he have to think?), "Break-in?"

You raised an eyebrow, tossing out the wipe, "You sure about that answer?"

"Better if ya didn't know, love," he mended -blue eyes slinking over your kitchen.

You hummed, picking through the material -thank god you took that sewing class, "Kind of expected that, mysterious suited neighbor."

"Tangerine."

You flicked up your eyes, confused, "Is that... Is that your safeword, or...?"

"Fuckin' hell," he sighed, using a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "-'s my name."

"Your name?" you questioned, tone raising.

"My brother-" he began before shaking his head -solidly, "-Doesn't fuckin matter, are ya gonna get to the knife wound or?"

"Listen," you spoke -a little pressed, "-I'm not one to stitch up wounds, Tangerine. I have to remember my sewing class-"

"You gonna stitch up my fuckin' shirt then, love?"

"Oh my god," you exhaled through your nose, "-no wonder you had to come to a stranger."

He opened his mouth -eager to bite back, but you promptly interrupted him.

"I have no experience," you said, taking the knife handle into your hand, "-but I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt like hell."

"Lucky for you, love," he spoke through labored breaths -wrapping his fingers around yours, "-I'm very fuckin' experienced."

And then without hesitation, he tugged it out.

The next few moments were bloody and unreal to you -your hands working quickly but your brain significantly falling behind. You could cross 'stitching up a wound on a handsome man' off your bucket list if it was ever even on there.

Now, you sat on the stool -hands sticky red, and your shirt (one of your better pjs, sadly) stained just the same. With a roll of bandages, you wrapped his shoulder with tedious little movements -eyes focused only on the skin. Only looking up when you'd tied it off, mind finally settling.

"Is that everything?" You asked, careful to not put your hands anywhere except your shirt.

"Yeah," he spoke, softer, "-just some bruisin', I think."

"Let me get you some peas," you echoed, sliding down from your stool -steps slow, you were just tired.

He didn't speak a word, as you dug through your freezer -finding one at the very bottom, of course.

You extended your hand, the cold sensation keeping you up -aware. Right now, your brain was in overdrive, probably ever since he'd shown up at your door, and your body merely just followed behind.

He shifted, grabbing it from you -you saw a kiss of a tattoo that you were curious about but not enough to ask. Your eyes sunk along his shirt, which was not a shirt anymore, all bloodstained and ripped up.

Before you could stop it, you were asking, "Do you need new clothes?"

Tangerine paused, looking at you like you grew a third head. You were past that point, you had his literal blood on your hands -there was no need to be shy now.

"'Had a boyfriend about your build," you clarified, "-I never gave him back like 10 shirts, so-"

"10?" He interrupted and you thought you might've seen a smile quirk onto his lips.

"He smelled good," you offered, before spinning to the kitchen and proceeding to scrub your hands with no hesitation, "-You want one or not?"

"Yeah," he sighed out, a little awkwardly, "-Yeah, thanks."

"While I'm at it," you spoke over your shoulder, "-do you need a place to stay?"

He pursed his lips, hand pushed into the peas against his ribs -you imagined it would be a big bruise in the morning.

"I'm pretty sure whatever happened," you emphasized, "-left a mess. I have a couch if you need it."

"Bein' awfully fuckin' nice to a stranger," he hummed, eyes tired.

"I figured you would've killed me way earlier," you remarked, finally drying them on a nearby towel, "'Had some good opportunities."

He smiled then, you actually saw it with your own two eyes -you almost thought you were hallucinating. His head tilting back, as his shoulder pressed against your counter -he looked kind of like a painting, all twisted angles and sharp jaw.

"What's yours?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "My what?"

"Your name, love," he answered, soft and attentive -much different than before (you kind of thought he might've lost too much blood).

"You wanna know that now?" You laughed, but even still you told him -there was something about him that made you feel at ease. He really shouldn't have.

He stayed that night, cozied up in your ex-boyfriend's shirt (which he looked surprisingly good in) and freshly showered. You didn't see him when you woke up that morning, and you didn't know why you had expected it.

A few weeks go by, and you were pretty sure that he moved out. Which, in retrospect, made sense, even still something in you felt kinda disappointed. He was the first person you'd actually talked to in months.

Coworkers didn't count.

You shook your head, he was literally covered in blood. In a business he couldn't talk about, and you missed him? You were officially losing your mind.

"Stupid," you muttered, eyes dipping across the TV -some sort of cheesy romcom that you'd never seen before in your life but still felt nostalgic to watch. It wasn't the worst thing you'd ever seen.

Good enough to sit and eat your favorite meal to, it was interesting enough to keep you awake.

When you finally slinked off to bed, and tossed into your fluffy comforter and soft pillows, you were exhausted. Far too exhausted to stay awake any longer. So, you didn't.

The sun was creeping through your window when you woke up, but not a morning sun -a too early sun. You groaned, looking to your phone and seeing without a doubt, it was 4:15 am. At first, you didn't know why you'd woken up so early but then you heard it.

A knock.

Initially, you were not going to move because it was warm here and you were tired.

But then you thought about if it was him, and if in the morning you'd see him dead on your doorstep. That would be suspicious, and you'd probably end up in jail-

You sighed, pulling yourself out of the bed and pattering to the door. And when you swung it open, you were met with familiar blue eyes.

Before you could stop it, you asked, "Don't you have any friends?"

He barked out a laugh -chuckle really, but something in him seemed nervous (like he wasn't sure if he should have come), "Lovely to see you too, love."

"Right," you agreed, before shuffling to the side and letting him in. He relaxed ever-so-slightly.

The first thing you noticed was a split on his forehead, just a cut -it wouldn't need any stitches (thank god, these pajamas were your favorite), and then you dipped to his clothes which were actually in tack. It was a blue suit, really complimented his eyes, and you wondered distantly if he did that on purpose. He seemed the type.

His pants though were dirty, and you could see him limping -only slightly. He was definitely not in as bad as shape as before though; you really wondered why he was here.

"Sit," you motioned to the stool and disappeared into your bathroom.

You got much of the same things and climbed onto the stool beside him, eyes sweeping across his face. Now that you were closer, you could see little cuts along his skin -teeny tiny.

"Glass bottle," he offered before you could say anything.

You hummed, nonchalantly, "Coulda guessed."

Your brain was numb at the moment, still sleepy and you once again thought this might've been a hallucination. He was handsome after all, and you did daydream about handsome men so it definitely could be. And you guessed you could have a saviour thing-

You stopped your train of thought, interrupting the silence as you dabbed at his forehead, "You know I'm not a doctor, right?"

He spoke, frankly, "You talked about a sewing class when you needed to stitch up my bloody fuckin' knife wound, love."

You nodded, fair point, before continuing, "Then why are you here?"

Tangerine paused, and you thought distantly he didn't have an answer, until he answered, "'Hard to do myself."

You thought for a moment, before replying, "What about your brother?"

"Not in the fuckin' country," he answered simply -something frustrated in his tone. But then again, when wasn't there?

"Hmm," you hummed, before rubbing the rest of the tiny cuts -he hissed slightly, "-different job?"

"No," he exhaled, "-just a different... mission."

"'Make it sound like you're a super spy," you laughed, "-but Tangerine isn't a very cool codename."

"Fuck you."

"You are such a joy," you remarked, debating bandaging the top cut, "-Are bandaids too baby for you?"

"Plasters?" He asked.

British, right, you nodded -waving one in your fingers, "Yeah, I think it's all I've got for your wounds. Well, unless you want it wrapped around your head-"

"'s fine," he muttered -low but you still caught it.

"Good," you assured, sticking one to his skin -fingers fluttering along his skin (when was the last time you touched someone?).

"Alright," you leaned back, gathering up your supplies -promptly ignoring the thought, "-all done here. Your leg-"

"Bruised ankle," he clarified -explaining the limp.

"Oh," you spoke, "-I'll get the peas again."

Your eyes dipped to his pants, covered in... something (maybe a mix of blood and dirt?), "And a pair of pants."

He didn't say a word, merely staying seated, as you grabbed the peas -sliding them across your counter. Before stalling slightly, asking-

"Do you even still live here?"

He pressed his lips together, apparently debating telling you -which you were slightly offended by, "No."

"So you're staying?" You asked, neutrally.

"Don't 'ave to," he spoke -not combative, and you really thought you were hallucinating then.

You tilted your head, confused, "You can stay, didn't I say that before?"

He nodded, still so wordless, and you were honestly the most confused you ever could be. Tangerine was quieter, softer, and it was nothing like the time before; he even seemed grateful.

"Honest question," you started.

"Yeah, love?"

"Are you okay?" You decided, careful wording with eye contact strong. You two were kind of close, he left his life in your hands -it was strangely intimate. Your relationship was very confusing, but it felt right to ask.

"Yeah," he answered -furrowing his brows, "-these wounds are fuckin' nothing, love. I have been far, far closer to death."

"No, I mean-" you clarified, "-like mentally. You're being too nice."

He raised his eyebrows, "Too nice?"

"Yeah," you stressed like it was obvious, "-you are like grateful and shit. You've barely cussed at me."

"You saved my fuckin' life, love," he questioned, "-shouldn't I be kind for 'at?"

"You should," you agreed, before contradicting, "-but you don't."

He was quiet then, eyes not meeting yours as his fingers tapped against your counter -seemingly running things over in his mind. It was awhile that he was doing that, but you patiently waited. You suspected opening up at all wasn't his forte.

Finally, still looking around your living room, he mumbled, "'Needed to see someone."

You took him at his word -not dwelling because it really felt like he didn't want to, and the rest of the night was the same. He took the pants, slept on the couch, and was gone in the morning -even though he couldn't have slept more than a few hours.

It started happening pretty regularly after that. You'd fix him up, he'd talk, you'd talk, he'd stay over. You started loosening up, talking about your job, and your life -nothing super specific. He stayed clammed up about his job, but his personal life he did talk about -there wasn't much, but he did talk about his brother.

You felt like that was a big thing.

And then, after quite a few months between visits, you heard a knock at your door. Super late as always, you made your way to it -expectant and in routine. This time though, there were two of them: a familiar Tangerine, and a man with bleached tips and a surprisingly big smile.

"Hello," he smiled and it was very odd -Tangerine hardly smiled, "-lovely to meet ya, I'm Lemon."

You could assume from the name, even still, you felt a little out of place, "Nice to meet you."

"Brother," Tangerine motioned to him -frustration nearly radiating off of him, as he made his way inside.

"Rude," Lemon spoke, "-can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," you exhaled, letting him in.

Tangerine was relatively well -bruised knuckles, a busted lip, and a mild slice on his collarbone. Lemon was even better with just a black eye, atleast on the surface.

Instead of on the stool, Tangerine beelined straight to the bathroom -slamming the door.

You pursed your lips, turning to Lemon for answers, "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"Annoyed 'im into takin' me 'ere," he answered simply, "-'Wanted to meet who my brother was talkin' about."

He talks about me, you thought for a moment -you fully believed that you were a little miniature part of his life, not something he'd talk about. Especially to his brother.

He must've seen your confusion, because he continued.

"Oh, he never shuts up, love," he laughed, "-'Feel like I already fuckin' know ya."

"Huh," you responded, puzzled.

You thought about it for a second, running over the idea in your mind. What did he have to talk about? Your life? Your boring job, your lack of love life, your favorite cheesy movies? He told that to his brother? His brother with the same unbelievable life?

Why the hell would he do that?

"Please, sit on my couch," you finally spoke, wandering towards the kitchen with intent, "-I'll get you something cold for your eye. And then, I'll deal with the tantrum."

"Thanks," Lemon smiled, tottering off to your TV and without hesitation, popping it on.

He really was very comfortable for not knowing you. How much had Tangerine said?

You stepped into the living room, offering the same peas to Lemon (did you even like peas?) that you often gave Tangerine. He smiled gratefully.

"Do you need any like Tylenol?" You asked, further -eyes swiftly drifting over his eye, it was a nasty sort of yellow, "-that one is a shiner."

"So nice," Lemon hummed, "-no wonder my brother was hoggin' ya. But, I'll be alright, 'ave had worse."

You nodded, before slowly making your way toward the bathroom. Raising your hand, you gently knocked -nothing compared to his on your door in ungodly hours of the morning.

"Tangerine?" You offered.

The door slid open, and your eyes swam over him -taking in his wounds that you had before like in confirmation. He really wasn't hurt bad, not like other times.

Turns out, you didn't care and still wanted to help.

He was leaning against the counter fidgeting with his hands -you think there was blood on his rings. You spoke before you could think about it.

"You want me to wash those?"

He quirked an eyebrow, "What?"

“Your rings,” you clarified, mentally cursing yourself, “-or… do you need help with your wounds?”

He seems to think about it for a moment, eyes dashing across his knuckles -his rings, really. You only watched him for a few moments, half convinced you had dreamt this all up, that maybe he didn’t even exist. Maybe he was a figment of your imagination, he was certainly handsome enough. And his name was Tangerine. This could definitely all be a dream.

“Think I can do the rings myself, love,” he laughed a little -you still weren’t used to that sound, “-and the wounds aren’t ‘at bad.”

You looked at him for a moment, peering along the busted lip and the slice on his collarbone, “You sure? It’s kind of all I do, is it not?”

He smiled, mustache quirking up, “If it makes you feel better, you can clean the cut. But really, love, I’m fine.”

You pursed your lips, taking in his breaths that swirled with yours -the bathroom was small, “I’ll just get you some ice for your knuckles. But if you die from infection, it’s not on me.”

He really laughed at the one, as you spun on your feet back to the kitchen -digging out some other frozen food you hadn’t gotten around to eating yet. With a solid motion, you extended it forward (it was maybe tater tots?), offering it to Tangerine.

“Sorry it’s not the peas,” you spoke, pointing to Lemon -who at the time seemed to be half asleep on the couch, “-your brother stole those.”

“The fuckin’ twat,” he hissed out, a little too personally -you thought it was probably about something far bigger than your frozen peas. He could definitely be that petty though. So, it was possible.

"Woah, somebody's pissy today. Bad day?"

Tangerine seemed to pause, eyes swimming over you -like he was committing you to memory, you briefly wondered why.

"Yeah," he said, solidly -not elaborating. You knew better than to expect him to.

"Well," you spoke, a little awkwardly -not sure where to go, "-I've got... icecream?"

He looked at you like you were insane, but then again, when wasn't he? You said a lot of things without a filter in front of him. Handsome men, what could you say?

"Like..." you clarified, clearing your throat, "-to eat."

"Yeah, love, I fuckin' got 'at part. Why the hell would I want icecream?"

There it was. Tangerine in his true form.

You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else cut you to the chase.

"Sorry," Lemon perked up, "-did you say icecream? Because 'at would be really lovely with this movie, a great pair-"

"Yeah," you turned to him -his presence was a lot warmer (why was his name Lemon?), "-I've only got one flavor, but..."

"Fine with me," Lemon responded, with a big smile, "-brother, are you gettin' any?"

Tangerine huffed out of his nose, genuinely frustrated apparently -much different than a moment ago. What was he even angry about? There was nothing-

"No," he spoke through a snarl.

"Ouch," Lemon put his hands on his heart, replying flatly, "-really hurts, mate. Not used to your shitty behavior at all."

You decidedly left the room (not really it was all open concept), waltzing toward your kitchen with a focus in mind. As you were digging around, trying to find the pint you'd hidden from yourself, you were interrupted.

"Do you..." you turned at his voice, Tangerine, he didn't look very certain of his words, "-Do you need any help, love?"

"Help?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow, "-With icecream?"

"Well," he was suddenly very grumpy -probably embarrassed, "-you help me all the fuckin' time, so I just thought- Excuse me for fuckin' offering."

"You..." you started, standing and now facing him, "-You were going to repay me for saving your life, by helping me with icecream?"

"'S hardly saving my life," he grumbled, under his breath -you still heard it.

"You had a knife-" you motioned harshly to stress the word, "-in your shoulder the first time we met."

"Not deadly," he retorted, a bit pompous.

You rolled your eyes, "Look, give me the benefit of the doubt-"

Tangerine quickly said -almost on instinct, "I certainly will fuckin' not."

"-let's call it even," you continued, ignoring his remark, "-I save your life, you save mine."

"That's..." he started, "-That's makin' it even?"

"Well, yeah," you tilted your head, "-a life for a life."

He furrowed his eyebrows, you took it as him not understanding.

"Let's say that I'm getting chased down an alley," you clarified, before interjecting, "-Ooh wait, or maybe I'm getting robbed-"

"Are you fuckin' excited at the idea of gettin' robbed, love?"

"No," you quickly mended, "-it's just a better story. Plus, that's not relevant-"

His lips quirked up into a little smile.

"-What I'm saying is," you started, "-If I'm in trouble, you have to save me. To make it even."

"And how am I supposed to know when you're in trouble, then?"

You paused, pursing your lips -good point, "Uh, I don't know. Do you guys have like a bat signal? Like I hold up a fruit stand sign to the light-"

"Very funny," Tangerine interrupted -flatly, "-Look, just take my phone number, yeah? If you're ever in trouble, you can ring me like a fuckin' normal person."

"You're one to talk," you responded, before furrowing your eyebrows, "-Wait, you guys have phones?"

"Yeah," Tangerine stressed, "-who do you think we are?"

"Well, I don't know," you explained, "-don't phones have trackers? Won't that out you guys? When you're on... jobs?"

"Burners," Lemon quickly clarified, "-well, kind of. 'S on a secret network, basically."

"So," you started, processing, "-you want to give me your secret phone number?"

Tangerine hummed, realizing but seeming to settle, "Well, it's not like you've given me a reason to not trust you, love. Should I not?"

"True," you responded, "-I have not snitched on you. Even with... all the blood, and the knife, and the job you won't talk about-"

"We get it, love," he groaned out, "-just give me your fuckin' phone, yeah?"

You without hesitation gave it to him, he seemed to quickly put your phone number in his, and then his in yours -handing it back to you open on the contact. With a smile, you made his name the tangerine emoji.

"You put me as the damn emoji, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed out, pocketing your phone in one fellow swoop.

You ended up seeing them both a few more times after that with varying injuries. (Once Lemon had a broken nose, and Tangerine had a broken finger. No more knives, thankfully.)

They were starting to be familiar to you -friends even. Despite not telling you about their job, you had gotten to know them well; you hate to brag but you were pretty good at settling their arguments. It made you integral to their dynamic.

You probably should've known one day you helping them stay alive would come back and bite you in the ass.

See, if you were asked, you'd probably assume they had many enemies. They were, at least, fighting people on a daily basis -you don't do that if your job is a positive one. And fighting people, almost regularly, is a surefire way of saying 'somebody hates me'. They probably had an enemy in every other city, if you were realistic.

You don't know why you hadn't thought of that.

That day, it was just a normal one. You worked until the sun went down, and then went home. Or you were supposed to.

Your shift at work was long and exhausting and you kind of wished your bed was right in front of you -so, to be honest, you weren't in your most aware state. It was always dangerous walking the streets tired, you knew this, so you usually had someone walk home with you. This night, in particular, was a lone shift (hell on earth) with a manager you didn't like, so you didn't ask.

And maybe that was stupid of you, but you doubted they would say yes.

Your feet pattered along the sidewalk, street lamps fading in and out of your view. Every few steps it'd get dark and then light again; to be honest, you were too tired to feel scared when it was dark.

And then, right as you stepped into the light, you heard the screech of car breaks (which you were kind of used to) and then suddenly there were hands all over you. Gloved hands, black-gloved hands.

Before you could say a word, you were thrown into the back of a van -no seats by the way, and enveloped in darkness.

It took you a minute to adjust, head spinning and hands shaking against the cold metal underneath you. It kind of felt like when you met Tangerine for the first time, like you weren't really there. Like you were experiencing something so bizarre, it couldn't be real-

Shit, you thought to yourself, Tangerine.

You patted yourself, ruffling over your pockets -trying to find your phone. It was dark and you couldn't even see. You guessed that was why, your phone went clattering onto the metal, away from your hand -loud.

There was something in you that hoped that these guys were stupid. That they'd look over the noise and ignore you until they took you wherever the hell they were taking you.

You weren't that lucky.

The van was distinctly pulled over, tires even scraping along the bumpy texture. And within minutes, the door to the van was flung open.

They were just a shadowy figure, light framing them so you couldn't see any of his features at all. He was just a shadow. You didn't know if that made him any scarier.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" His voice was low and gruff -like a smoker.

"I didn't-" you started, trying to avoid your phone -it was shadowed in the dark. You doubted he could see it-

And then his eyes flicked directly to it.

You literally could not have had a worse day.

Instead of reaching for it, he eyed for you to instead. And for a second, you thought he might've been trying to help you. That was wrong.

With your phone in your hand, the man promptly put a gun to your head. From a distance, yeah, but still trained directly into the center of your forehead. Was he going to kill you? Just like that?

This was suddenly very real, you swallowed back tears and nearly dropped your phone -trying to raise your hands up.

"Please," you begged, slowly and shaky but clear enough for them to hear.

"Shut up," he hissed out, "-listen. Take your phone, and call 'em."

"C-Call who?"

"Don't play dumb with me," the man echoed out, and you heard the click of the trigger pulling back -dear god, "-we know you're close to the twins, we've been watchin' your place for months."

"Okay, okay-" you breathed out, it felt like your lungs were full like you were suffocating-

Tears burned at the backs of your eyes, as your fingers, shaking, scrolled around the contacts app -he hadn't texted you or anything so all you had was his contact. Only for emergencies, he'd said.

You almost wanted to scare him once, but the idea felt so very stupid now.

Clicking call, the man nudged your hand, speaking lowly, "Put it on fucking speaker, now."

You dutifully did so, even if it took a few tries to hit the button -your hands were shaking enough to blur the screen. Your head was spinning, and the only thing your could feel was the cold metal beneath your legs.

Why did you ever think this was a good idea? To get caught up with... with bloody men who had a mysterious job?

You were moving back home if you made it out alive -the city wasn't worth this.

"'Ello?" His voice was spent, and you could hear the raggedy breaths puffing out of his chest -somehow hearing his voice calmed you just a second.

The man nudged you again, so you spoke, "Tangerine?"

He must have not been paying attention, because your shaky whisper -wet from your tears, you were crying, went relatively unnoticed.

"Little busy at the mo-" you heard a solid hit and what sounded like a crack, "-ment, you sure this is important, love?"

The man kept his eyes laser-focused on you, you took it as a sign to keep talking.

"T-Tangerine," you repeated, more inflection -the shake in your voice unavoidable.

The noise on the phone, suddenly got very quiet -you heard him mumble something to Lemon 'you got 'im?' before seeming to pull his full attention to you, "Everything okay, love? You sound... Is somethin' wrong?"

The man looked at you, expectantly. You took it as to tell him what was happening, clenching your nails into your skin -it might bleed. The pain was distracting, even just for a moment.

"I-I'm," you tried, but your voice cracked, and your breath turned into a sob, "T-There's a man, he has a gun to my head, I don't- I don't know why-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Tangerine spit out, something fierce in his voice, "Lemon-"

The man snatched the phone from your hand, voice low and in a growl, "Seems I got something you want, Tangerine. It's only fair."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter," the man deflected, "-all that matters is that I have your little nurse, and you have no idea where we are."

The van, suddenly without warning, started up again -swinging back onto the road. You braced yourself against the wall, mindlessly blinking -this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.

You could hear the pounding of his footsteps -rushed, like he was trying to get somewhere, "If you lay a hand on 'em, I will fuckin' rip you apart, piece by excruciating piece. Slow and fuckin' steady, for hours-"

"You say that as if you know where we are," the man responded, "-as if you have a chance of finding them in time."

In time? your brain chimed, and everything felt so far away now.

"I swear to fuckin' god-" he spit out, venomous, "-if you hurt 'em-"

"Yeah, yeah," the man retorted -confidence in his tone, "-I got that part, fruit."

You breathed out, swallowing back tears, and wiping your eyes so hard that you were seeing spots; maybe this was all a dream, maybe you had just fallen asleep at work-

"Hate to do this to you," the man echoed out, "-but we have to go. Let's hope we see each other later, for your sake."

Tangerine nearly yelled through the phone, but that didn't stop him from hanging up.

At the next stop, the man moved back to the front -taking your phone with him. You sat alone, in the back of a van, in complete darkness.

Would this be the last thing you ever see? Really?

It was just like you were in the city, so incredibly alone. At least you had a chance then, to remedy it. Now... Now you weren't even sure you'd be breathing in a few hours.

"Oh god," you breathed out a big exhale, a sob bubbling up your throat -you had so much left to do, "-oh god."

The van didn't stop for what felt like forever, bumpy roads and quick turns -they were speeding the whole time, and you had no idea how they weren't pulled over. But maybe it was because of the hour, it was fairly late.

The door swung open before you could think about anything else, two men rushing in and grabbing you by the shoulders -dragging you out.

"If you scream," you felt cold metal to your neck, "-you're dead."

"Aren't you going to kill me anyways?"

"Only if your friends," the other man retorted, "-don't behave."

They tied something around your eyes, leaving you completely in the dark -gloved hands squeezing your shoulders so tight, they were definitely going to bruise. Three sets of feet pattered along what sounded like concrete, as your mind went numb -the cold, bitter air filtering over your skin.

It was echoing now, after you heard the swing of some heavy doors opening -must have been a big place. Your mind was reeling, you felt like you weren't even really there.

Then, without a word, they threw you forward directly into a brick wall -seemingly latching a door behind you. Your head spun for a moment as you tried to reorient yourself -blindfold still on, as you pulled it off you felt a stickiness on your forehead.

Pulling your hand in front of your face, you realized it was blood. How hard did you hit your head?

Your fingers flitted across it again, and you hissed. Apparently very hard.

You tried to look at your hands, see how much blood, but it was all shadowed -the darkness didn't change much from what you saw in the blindfold.

Hands shaking, you leaned yourself against the wall -tears steadily making their way down your cheeks. You could cry now, freely, as you finally were brought back down to your body.

This was really happening. You were in some dingy old room, and there were men outside who wanted to kill you to get at someone else. You were expendable, a pawn.

Any moment, any feeling, and they could just kill you. You'd die here, and nobody would know what happened to you.

You'd be one of those news stories you couldn't believe.

The brick scratched against your head, but it was kind of numbed by your headache -pounding where you knew the split of skin to be. Or where you could've guessed it was anyway.

That couldn't mean anything good.

Your breaths were starting to hollow out, low and slow, your body coming back to the cold concrete floors. You were grappling with your helplessness, what the hell would you do? What could you do?

You were... you couldn't do anything. You were done. This was it, all that work for... for you to die in some dingy old room alone.

And then, you thought of something you hadn't thought to. Something you'd never let your mind dig into, not really, because at the time it seemed stupid.

Tangerine.

You'd always known there was something there, something bubbling under your skin. Even with everything, you still... there was something.

Something warm in your chest at the idea that he came to see you. That it wasn't just for the help anymore. And he was handsome, and he promised to save you and his eyes and his arms and his hands-

Before you could think about it for too long, something interrupted you.

Boom.

It made your ears sting, the noise bouncing along the walls -you flinched where you sat. Breath sudden in a gasp, you stilled. Almost like as if someone could see you, like you were hiding.

There was some shuffling outside, someone messing with the latch on the door -they were struggling. Maybe because their hands were shaking? They were trying to get in-

And then, right outside the door was an even louder-

Boom.

It makes your head sting, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see spots. You swallowed, trying to calm the pounding in your head, rubbing at your temples.

Gunshots, you recognized, suddenly, they were gunshots.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, they were right outside the door. With a gun. With a gun-

Before you could think of anything to say, the rattling at the door started again -the scratch of metal against metal. It sounded more frantic now, somehow, and your whole body froze. Maybe if you didn't move they wouldn't hear you?

The door swung open, light pouring in that made your eyes sting. The door pounding against the wall -loud and opposing.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your breath, staying completely still -hoping the shadow hid you against the walls. One hand covering your face, waiting until a figure steps into the room.

And when one did, cast in shadow, you sat very still. Watching their head twist around the room, back and forth -looking, searching.

You bit back a sob, let me live, let me live.

Then, they spoke.

"Love? Are you in 'ere?" He echoed out, "-Or was that fuckin' twat lyin'-"

"Tangerine," spilled out of your mouth as you rushed forward -wrapping your arms around him in a huff, "-holy shit, Tangerine-"

He stood frozen for a second, unfamiliar with the affection, you assumed. You inhaled a shaky breath in, the whiff of his cologne keeping you stable, there. You were safe-

His arms slowly met around you, unsure, but settling comfortably. Holding you for a second, just a second.

"Are you alright, love?" He pushed back a little bit -blue eyes scanning over you, "-Did he fuckin' lay a hand on you?"

"No, just-" you breathed out, pushing through the pain, "-he slammed me against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard, but that's-"

"Your head?" He asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the light, "-Come out 'ere, love, so I can see."

"It's not really-"

Tangerine let out a big sigh, turning back to you, "Let me help you, yeah?"

You pursed your lips, eyeing him for a moment -he was relatively unscathed, just a blood stain on his shirt and maybe some busted-up knuckles. His hair was still in place and his suit jacket uncreased, he felt composed -sturdy. Stable, really.

"Okay," you whispered out, letting him guide you out the door -you hissed at the little light you did see, almost instinctively squeezing your eyes shut.

"Sorry, love," he spoke, soft and gentle, "-can't control the sun for you."

"You could block it," you remarked, "-god made your shoulders insanely broad for a reason."

He laughed, moving in his place so less light shone on you -hands moving to hold your face (tilting the wound into the light), "You think my shoulders are broad, then?"

"Duh," you responded, something in your head woozy -you stumbled a little in place.

"Shit," he reacted, hands smoothing to your shoulders, holding you up, "-Can you 'ear me? Stay fuckin' awake, yeah?"

"Okay," you blinked heavily, trying to see him clearly.

When you did, he stood there eyes desperately searching yours -looking at you, concerned. They scattered all over you, settling on the split on your head for a bit too long -it was still pounding in your head, made you flinch a little.

"Do you think-" you started, "-Do you think I need a hospital?"

"No," Tangerine breathed out, fingers dusting along your wound, "-just need someone to watch ya overnight. And to clean you up a bit."

"Wouldn't..." you echoed, "-Wouldn't a hospital do that?"

Tangerine met your eyes, his lips quirking into a smile (just barely), "You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"

"I'm just making a point," you deflected.

"Just-" he sighed out, before connecting your eyes again, "-let me help you. I want to, yeah? I really fuckin' want to."

"Okay," you echoed out, relaxing into his touch -relaxing finally, "-fine."

"Good," he tsked, and without hesitation wrapped his fingers around your wrist, "-now, let's get out of 'ere, shall we?"

You did so, eyes squeezed shut tight because all the light did was hurt. But Tangerine soothed you, hand still on your wrist, ("Close your eyes if it hurts, love, I've got you.") and guided you along, even sitting you down in the car and pulling the seat belt along your body.

"You know I could do that myself, right?" You spoke, eyes squinted open -the car was much darker.

He didn't dignify you with a response, sliding into your side and shutting the door behind himself. He silently settled into the seat beside you, like the passenger seat was taken. Which it decidedly was not.

His blue eyes kept darting to you, and you could feel his leg pressed against yours.

"You know that I'm fine, Tangerine," you exhaled, looking to him, "-don't you?"

He didn't respond, so you continued.

"You looked at my wound, I'm alright-" you laughed a little, "-I can sit in the backseat by myself."

Tangerine seemed to think for a second, before speaking decidedly, "If you go to fuckin' sleep, love, you won't wake up. I'm 'ere to keep you awake."

You could feel his breath fan over your face, and you swallowed. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as your eyes stayed on his (blue, blue-). With another intake of breath, you snapped them away -eagerly looking out the window.

Well, you thought to yourself, you're doing a really good job, Tangerine.

The city blurred by, as it made way to more familiar silhouettes but not... not yours. Not ones near your home.

"Um," you spoke, particularly to Lemon (who was driving) "-are we not going... home?"

"You serious, love?" Tangerine offered, blue eyes decidedly matching yours.

"Are we not-"

Lemon interrupted -catching your eye in the mirror, "You were kidnapped, mate. Do you not remember 'at?"

"No, I do," you huffed out, eyes dashing between the two of them, "-they didn't get me at home though, they got me off the street."

"Doesn't mean anythin'," Tangerine countered, jaw twitching ever so slightly -he really didn't like talking about them, "-'Ey 'ave eyes on your home, 's how they made the connection to us."

"Tangerine-"

"He's got a point," Lemon responded, fingers tapping along the wheel, "-takes too much effort to prove 'im wrong, trust me."

"Lemon-"

"Why do you even want to go home, love?" Tangerine interrupted, eyebrows furrowed -genuine curiosity.

"Because it's my home," you reiterated, "-it's familiar. I know you guys may have forgotten the feeling, but it... it would make me feel a lot better to be home."

Tangerine sighed, a deep heavy sigh, "How about a compromise?"

You pursed your lips, eyes flickering across his face (god, was he pretty), "I'm listening."

"We stay at the hotel a few nights until they cool off," he offered, "-and then, you can go home."

You sighed out in relief.

"But," Tangerine clarified, "-me and Lemon need to stay with you for a while. There's not a fuckin' chance you're goin' alone after this. Especially so soon."

"What so-" you started, "-you guys are going to constantly be around me? I have work, and I... I need to get groceries-"

"We 'ave to be, love," Tangerine spoke in almost a whisper, soft, "-these people, they're not goin' to be as fuckin' nice next time. Lemon and I know 'at."

Right, you thought to yourself, mysterious jobs. They've probably done something like this before.

You involuntary shuddered, thinking about the darkness and the gun and your life-

Tangerine looked at you, eyes darting around your face -a slosh of concern sliding over his features, flickering in his eyes. It was no wonder those thoughts had come to the forefront of your mind, he was so protective of you. There's only so much you can resist feelings for someone who so very much values your life.

A handsome someone, your mind tsked.

Before he could open his mouth though, you turned your head back to the window. A familiar swirl bubbled into your stomach, you couldn't chance looking at him. Afterall, getting flustered with him was surely a dead giveaway and there was no way in hell Tangerine felt anything remotely the same.

And that was plain embarrassing.

You felt suddenly like you were in school again, and were crushing on a jock -that never even looked your way. It felt pretty hopeless, and even though it did, it didn't stop you from going to every game -just to pretend for a little while.

Was that what patching him up was? Your own sort of way to be close to him, to pretend for a moment that everything was different.

Shit, you thought, that is embarrassing.

Luckily, you severely doubted Tangerine would ever know. You were pretty good at keeping secrets. Hence, well, the whole reason you were even here in the first place -you regularly housed assassins.

It took only a few minutes after that (feeling blue eyes boring into your side the whole time) when Lemon pulled into a parking spot and you arrived at the hotel. Lucky for you, it was far from a dingy old place on the side of the road.

This place was way above your paygrade. You had never even dreamed of living such a luxury; all golden accents and marble floors. You hardly even knew this place existed in your city.

"I take it back," you whispered to Tangerine, as Lemon strode up to the front desk to request a room change, "-we can stay here forever."

You saw the woman point to you, clearly in concern and you suddenly remembered the wound on your head. Your fingers smoothed along it, and you grimaced, Lemon seemed to come up with some sort of explanation, though. And she promptly looked away.

Tangerine laughed at your words, a quiet little chuckle, and fell rather silent. You peered over at him, wondering why he hadn't said anything back; and when you did, he seemed to be stealing little looks at you -silently fidgeting with his rings.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment, debating asking him about it.

Before you could, he opened his mouth to say something -eyes lingering on your face, like he was trying to memorize it (something in your chest fluttered), "Love, I-"

"Sorry, mates," Lemon interrupted, eyes dashing between the two of you for a moment, "-rooms are booked tonight. Lady says we can try again tomorrow but she doubts it'll 'ave changed."

"So," you swallowed, "-just two bedrooms?"

"Yep," Lemon popped the p, "-and hate to say it, but I'm gettin' one by myself. You lot can figure the rest of 'at out yourselves."

Something was gleaming there in his eye -something mischievous; you frowned -heartbeat stuttering in your chest.

Maybe there's a couch, your mind chimed -a little patheticly.

As fate would have it, there was. And an entire kitchen and living space -an expensive kitchen and living space. You were truly floored by this place.

"This is a hotel, right?" you questioned, eyes lingering on the high ceilings (you decidedly did not have those).

"For rich blokes," Lemon clarified, "-the kinds 'at hate to 'ave anythin' besides luxury."

You spun around, eyes darting between the two of them, "Like you two?"

Tangerine frowned, and Lemon snorted -disappearing off into the kitchen; leaving just you and Tangerine alone in the living space. That being said, each room was actually divided, with no open concept -just archways.

You slung yourself onto the couch, inelegantly (but when were you ever elegant) and were pleased to find it felt like clouds, "Why, if you could pay for this, did you ever come to my apartment? They probably have an on-staff nurse you could page, good god-"

"Eh," Tangerine mended, voice calm and confident, "-like the company better 'ere."

You smiled to yourself, small and quiet, heart fluttering in your chest. You are not making this easy, fruit man.

You cleared your throat, about to shift the subject because you frankly could not address the fondness in his eyes. Instead, Lemon came to your rescue with a smile.

"Well," he spoke, "-I'm fuckin' exhausted, I'm off to bed. If you need anythin', ask Tangerine."

And then, with that, he left -disappearing behind one of the doors down into the hallway.

"You can't sleep," Tangerine said suddenly, "-your head... We've got to get you to a doctor in the mornin', so they can look at it."

"Why not tonight?"

"I truly fuckin' doubt anyone of credit would be open this late," he explained, sauntering up to your side and sitting down (when he had the whole couch).

"Tangerine," you spoke, "-the emergency room doesn't just... close."

"I just," he sighed out, leaning back into the couch "-I want you safe for tonight, yeah?"

"I doubt they'd show up to a hospital," you reasoned, weighing your words.

Tangerine frowned.

"Look, I just-" you paused, "-you don't have to be on watch duty. You need sleep. Just take me to the ER, and I'll-"

He scoffed, repeating, "There's no fuckin' way you're going alone, love."

Swiping the keys off one of the tables near the door and shooting Lemon a text, he grabbed your hand and guided you outside.

The night was a surprisingly quick one, as you were taken into the ER and looked at. They quickly bandaged and stitched your wound, even sending you in to get your brain looked at. Tangerine was dutifully by your side, all night, even when they told you they'd rather keep an eye on you tonight. Something along the lines of what Tangerine said, keeping you awake.

He did, however, end up getting some sleep -slouched over in a hospital chair. One of those plastic ones that really could not be comfortable, and you knew his back would ache in the morning. But when you asked him to, he straight refused to leave ("No fuckin' way, love"); so, you were sort of glad he had gotten some sleep after all.

Then, the next morning, they set you on your way. Quickly reminding your husband (it was the only way Tangerine could stay overnight) of all the bandage changes and consistent eye he should keep on you; he seemed rather serious when listening -eyes intent, and almost as if he could, he would take out a notepad and write each thing down extensively.

You were touched, something in your chest swirling widely.

Was this how he felt when you took care of him?

Well, you sort of doubted so, because they were different circumstances. Despite the closeness and the fingertips on the skin, it was less protective and more domestic. Something very different in the closeness there, and the presence of him now.

Even now, as you leaned onto the couch, scrolling through channels -you felt his eyes solidly on you.

"Tangerine," you tsked, bandage smoothed across your head, "-I'm fine."

He blinked, as your eyes swam over his face and a pink dusted along his cheeks, "That's not what I- I was just... just lookin', love."

You furrowed your eyebrows, curious, tilting your head, "Why?"

Tangerine paused, blue eyes bubbling along your skin -like he was considering his answer, or maybe deciding on one. You thought for a second that he wasn't going to say anything -wordless, as always.

"Need to change your bandage," he deflected, getting up, grabbing some supplies, and roaming over to you on the couch.

You groaned, leaning your head back against the cushions -so soft and cloudlike that you almost couldn't stay frustrated, "We just did that."

"'At was yesterday, love," Tangerine hummed, smiling ever-so-slightly, "-the doctors said-"

"The doctors said," you mocked his accent, shaking your head with the words, "-spare me the speech this time, Tan."

He smirked, face so close to yours now (peeling the old one off, rough fingertips dusting along your forehead), "Fuckin' argumentative today, yeah?"

You swallowed, eyes darting between his -back and forth, responding shortly, "Maybe."

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at the quickness of your response, dabbing at the wound quickly -cleaning it. He was gentle, with tiny little movements; it was hard to imagine these were the same hands that hurt others. He was so soft with your wound, why-

"You alright, love?"

He was a breath away, blue eyes (upon finishing the bandaging) matching yours, intensely. Tangerine just had an intense stare, like you simply held the world in your hands. It was like he didn't blink, even though you knew he did.

You swallowed, for a moment, eyes dashing along his face -it really was totally unfair. Your cheeks grew a little hot at the closeness, you saw his eyes dart to it -eyebrows furrowing together.

Good god, it really was like high-school again.

"What, yeah-" you laughed, awkwardly -eyes darting away from him, "-why would I not be?"

Tangerine hummed in thought for a second, and you could nearly hear the gears in his head turning, "Love... you're actin' really fuckin' odd right now."

You fidgeted with your fingers, watching them in your lap -you couldn't think straight right now. This was all new in your brain, and when was the last time you had feelings for someone-

"I'm not," you answered, finally -a bit like a toddler who was getting in trouble but the meaning all the same.

He sighed out a breath, seeming to settle on something and you could almost feel his eyeroll.

And without another second, you felt his fingers on your chin. Rough fingertips brushed against it, as he tilted you back to face him.

You blinked.

His blue eyes flickered along your face, slow and tedious, "You know you're safe with me, yeah?"

"Tangerine," you exhaled.

"I'd-" he started, eyes dipping away before coming back to yours -so genuine, "-I'd save you without the deal, you know 'at? Anytime, anywhere-"

"Tangerine, that's not-" you faltered, he was so broken open, vulnerable, to you right now. Something in your chest heavy, and your heart ready to spill on your tongue.

"I'd shoot 'im over and over again if it made ya feel safe, love," he continued, fingertip brushing along your skin like he was cradling your face, "-I'm sorry I ever let 'im put a fuckin' hand on you, you 'ave to know 'at."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, soft, "-That's not your fault."

"It is."

"Tangerine-"

"You're afraid now, aren't you?" He echoed out, a soft sort of whisper but filled with intent, "-How does 'at not mean I'm responsible? I never should've-"

"Tangerine!" You exclaimed, resorting to using your hands to cup his face -bringing him back down to earth, "-I'm not... afraid."

He paused.

"Well, yeah, I am, but it's not-" you tsked, before sighing, "-I know you'll keep me safe. I don't know how I know, I just... do."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Then why-"

And then, as normal, your brain stopped functioning, words coming out before you could think them over, "You're very pretty."

He opened his mouth, a smirk smoothing onto his lips. You didn't let him continue.

"And I'm not immune to a pretty man caring about my well-being," you clarified, swallowing -somehow maintaining eye contact, "-I'm not... good at handling it."

"You're..." he started, a quirk of a smile on his lips (not that you were looking), "You're fuckin' flustered, love?"

"Mortifyingly embarrassed," you corrected, your voice squeaked out.

Tangerine laughed a little, "Ya sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"

"Ha ha, laugh it up, mustache," you responded, rolling your eyes -much more comfortable. The banter was easy.

"Well," he tsked, and you were suddenly very aware of how close his face is to yours, "-you apparently fuckin' like it, love. What's 'at say about you?"

You swallowed, "Didn't say it doesn't suit you."

"Hmm," he hummed, and there was a flicker of something in his eye -mischievous, "-guess not."

"Nope," you popped the p -awkwardly. Your eyes darting between his frantically, you felt something building in the air a moment -heavy as your eyes sat on his, and his on yours.

It was almost as if, a look, one glance held your entire being in the balance.

"I think you're quite pretty too, ya know," he echoed out, low and gravelly -you could feel his breaths scattered across your face. He was suddenly very close to you again, the fuzziness that banter provided snatched away.

Something twisted in the bottom of your stomach, as you opened your mouth -letting out a very quiet, "Thank you."

He seemed to take those words, just absorb them in the heavy silence that had bestowed upon the room. There was a part of you that wished Lemon was still here, that he could pull you apart but he left early that morning. And now, here you were, and all you could think about was his lips and that stupid fucking mustache-

You blinked, clearing the fog, and clearing your throat -backing up and standing to your feet.

Tangerine slowly came to the realization, the haze drifting out of his eyes, as they came to default onto yours -still intense but not as close. You could handle this.

"Anyway," you bit your lip, "-I'm kind of starved, do you... want anything?"

"Do I fuckin' want anythin'," he mumbled to himself for a moment -hands carefully putting the old bandage on the table and arranging all of the supplies so they wouldn't fall off.

And with a slow measured breath, he rose to his feet -steps teetering closer to you. His hands found solace in his hair as he rifled it up a bit, and on the cuff of his shirt -you saw a little blood. Was that from you? From your bandage-

"I've got somethin' in mind," he finally said, a little distant from you, but nothing like before (maybe just a few steps away from the closeness of the couch).

"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, but it still felt dry, "-what do you... want? I think we've got like some... fancy tortilla chips and salsa, which... is a good one, or-"

He laughed a deep sort of low chuckle, erasing those steps you talked about before. You swallowed, words trailing off; there was a little spark in his eye when he noticed that you had -pride.

"You are really un-fuckin'-believable, you know 'at, love?"

"I think you've told me before."

He laughed at that, shaking his head, and you felt the breaths of each one scattered along your face -brushing onto your lips. You snapped your mouth closed at the thought.

Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, deep, deep breaths. You can do this.

Tangerine grew rather silent, before words seemed to bubble out of him without thinking, "You."

"What?"

"I want you, love," he clarified, "-in particular, I'd really love to fuckin' kiss ya right now, is 'at alright?"

"I didn't think you were the type to ask," you quipped, before you could really think about it, again.

He furrowed his eyebrows, a bit in defense.

"No, I mean-" you scrambled for a minute, "-you feel like the kinda guy that does it-"

"It?"

"-in like an emotional rush. You know? Like no words, just... just..."

Tangerine sighed, but you could see the quirk of a smile on his lips -you hadn't scared him off yet apparently.

"Sorry," you squeaked out, and you definitely saw a smile smooth across his lips.

"I'm fuckin' askin' ya, love. Say yes or no, yeah?"

"Yes," it came out in a rush of breath, a little like it clawed up your throat with desperation, "-yes."

Tangerine didn't hesitate a second longer, pushing forward with a force unmatched -big hands coming to cup your face at the hinge of your jaw. It was desperate, almost like he'd been waiting to do this awhile and the idea of that, made your breath catch.

You briefly wondered when it started, before he pushed into you further -hands righting themselves just below your ears on the back of your neck. He made you bump into the wall behind you. Tangerine promptly swallowed your squeak at the sensation, as easy as breathing.

Of course he was good at kissing too, your mind chimed, so unfair.

And then a more coy voice spoke up, but hey, he does want to kiss you though, I'd count that as a win.

Yeah, you decided as his mustache scratched ever so slightly at your upper lip and his hands dropped to your waist, definitely a win.

He pulled back a moment, breaths ragged and slow -eyes darting over yours, "Was good, yeah?"

You decidedly didn't answer him, pushing forward to kiss him again -this time a little slower, less rushed. He was just as slow, fingers holding your waist just slightly tighter like he didn't want you to leave.

Why the hell would I leave?

Tangerine was the one to part that time too, eyes slow to open like the kiss had affected him just as much. Your heart beat a little faster at that.

"Take that as a yes, yeah?"

"Oh, definitely," you laughed, hands coming to rest between his chest and shoulders.

He's strong too, your mind unwillingly retorted.

He didn't move, like he was simply absorbing your breaths and to be fair, you were pretty sure you were doing the same. He was nearly panting after all.

Words slipped out before you could stop them, "When I told you to borrow sugar, this was not what I was expecting."

Tangerine paused for a moment, gears working. Before his face flickered into something of annoyance, frown so prominent.

"Good god, fuckin' shut up, love."

"Make me," you offered, laughing.

And he certainly did.

#tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #borrow some sugar

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

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love, love, love || tangerine × he/him! reader

Part 2 of find yourself (and me).

Summary: You knew Tangerine well, you'd fallen in love with the guy. But when a mission goes wrong and you fake your death, he can't know a word of it. And when you finally transition after years of wishing, you can hardly even imagine running into him again. If you thought you might, you'd run the opposite way. But fate had different plans. (PART 2)

TW: just murder mention (no descriptions of violence or anything), cursing (it's Tangerine), soft!Tangerine, and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: Based on a request by @random-thoughts-004. Y'all I wrote some clingy af Tangerine in this one, be ready. This is just more establishment of the universe, enjoy :)]]

Despite Tangerine almost getting down to his knees and begging, you still worked with your agency. The same as Ladybug, and he was still your partner a majority of the time; Tangerine decidedly hated it, but you weren't switching over just because of the twins.

Maria had been with you through a lot, you'd hate ditch her.

This conversation was one well due to Ladybug, explaining well... everything. You thought he deserved to know (Tangerine did not). But it was your secret, so your opinion trumps.

"Wait, so," Ladybug started, leaning back into a chair in a way that shouldn't be comfortable but you somehow knew it was, "-4 years ago, almost 5 now, you were Butterfly?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And you faked your death?"

"Because of the White Death," you clarified.

"So, when he was killed on the bullet train," he continued, gears turning, "-you came out of hiding?"

"Yes," you answered.

"And you're a man now," Ladybug added, before turning to you thoughtfully, "-That's a lot of personal change to go through, are you sure you don't want my therapist's number? They're great-"

"Ladybug," you chastised.

"Sorry," he stopped his train of thought, before returning, "-and, just so I know because they could and would kill me at any moment, what's your relationship with the twins? I know you were partners before but mustache has that pendant on his neck and its kind of..."

He fell silent but you could tell by the look on his face -he meant romantic. That you and Tangerine were in a romantic relationship, which you... kind of were? He didn't say anything exclusively, but you assumed... Shit, maybe you shouldn't have assumed.

Later, you told yourself.

"First, you know his name is Tangerine," you responded, "-Secondly, they are my best friends."

He placed his hand over his heart, gasping, "You wound me, Beetle."

You rolled your eyes, "You're a close second."

Ladybug was already passed it, however, "Now, I hate to tell you this, but that pendant thing? Romantic. Romantic as hell. He keeps you next to his heart? Yeah, the guy's head over heels."

You furrowed your eyebrows, opening your mouth to respond.

"Although," he countered (to himself?), "-he is a strange man. I'm not even sure he has feelings past anger."

"Ladybug," you sighed, motioning to yourself, "-come back to me."

He shook his head, before blinking and refocusing on you, speaking then, "Tan's got it bad. Hate to ruin the dynamic, can't imagine the fallout with those two-"

"Ladybug," you replied, "-I know."

And then you paused, for a moment, "Well, I know he has feelings for me, we had this whole reuniting thing-"

"Reuniting thing?"

"Later," you answered, before thoughtfully adding on, "-but he didn't like clarify anything. Should I be assuming?"

Sure you kissed, countless times actually -like every time you met up. But Tangerine had never expressed his feelings to you, or you to him. You loved the guy, but who's to say he loves you?

"Clementine is a very strange man, Beetle," Ladybug paused, pursing his lips, "-but he's not stupid."

"Tangerine," you corrected, before exhaling, "-and stop doing that. You know the only thing keeping him from killing you is me, right?"

"And I thank you for that every day," he spoke gratefully, making prayer hands toward you.

You picked up a pen from the desk, and threw it at his head, "You're such an idiot."

After yet another 'you wound me', the conversation faded off. The next mission being run through (about a month or so away), your day, with Ladybug anyway, was over. You had no job today, mostly because you requested it, but the next one would be a few weeks' worth so you figured it balanced out.

Speaking of jobs, Tangerine (the twins, really) was in New York, you think, doing a job -a hit, maybe. He didn't tell you much about work, you weren't entirely sure why, but you thought it just might have to be a residual torture for not switching agencies. Or maybe he didn't want you to be worried. You could never really tell with him-

Hence the uncertainty. You'd hate to be the one to ask 'What are we?' because it had been so long, and there was something in you that assumed he loved you but... that wasn't certain.

It made you a little on edge, that you didn't have a label, that you didn't know if he loved you too. In fact, maybe all of it was just the adrenaline of you being alive-

Enough thinking for today, you thought -decidedly, before beelining into a bakery.

You'd seen it before with cute puns and a chalkboard outside on the sidewalk -you'd always wanted to go in. Why not today? You were free, and alone... and could really use a sweet of some sort.

Spiraling thoughts meant a sweet craving, what could you say?

Just as you slipped in the door and the warm scent of just... bakery crept through your nose, your phone rang. Vibrated in your pocket, you should say. You patted it for a second before pulling it out, not even reading the name -you kind of already had a clue.

"Hello?" You asked, brushing into the line, and skimming through the menu board. There were so many-

"Hello, love," he sighed out into the phone, and you could hear he was definitely frustrated, "'s good to 'ear your voice."

He called you sometimes, when he got angry -helped him calm down. At least, that's what Lemon said, and you tended to believe him. He was right about a lot, to be fair.

"Lemon tell you to call me?" you questioned, still flicking over the menu boards -there was some sort of toasted sweet bun called 'a bun in the oven'. Interesting choice.

"Yeah," he confirmed, before switching his tone, "-the fuckin' twat."

"What did he do now?" You laughed, you imagined him all harsh edges but still soft with you -you enjoyed the new dynamic. It was... nice.

Made you feel like you were special.

How special? your brain chimed, Boyfriend special? Love special?

You swatted away the thought, trying to listen attentively to your... Tangerine. This was not the time to be worrying about labels, nor was it ever but you knew you would later. Always something to ruin the good.

"Doesn't matter, love," he exhaled out, and you wanted to contradict but something in you said he just wanted to hear you, "-how has your day been? That fuckin' prick treat ya well?"

It was always so weird, to hear such casual things from him. But he always seemed to want to know, he was so genuine about it -wants to know everything. (Maybe so he can kill whoever is necessary if it was a bad day, but still-)

"Ladybug responded very well," you hummed out, "-totally understanding. And it's been... uneventful. Had the meeting with him, and now I'm..."

You paused for a minute, realizing you'd told him about this place before, "Oh! I'm in that bakery I've always wanted to stop by. Had nothing better to do, so, thought I'd see how it holds up."

"You went without me?" He was smiling, you could tell, "-You'll 'ave to tell me the verdict, yeah?"

"Just wait a few minutes and I will," you smiled, chest warm and fuzzy, there was something so domestic about these calls. It made you think that it was labeled, that you were... something.

"'ve got a few minutes," he hummed, low and soft -you could nearly see him in your head. Hunched over a counter, curls falling forward and a ghost of a smile on his lips -listening attentively.

It was midday there, and he usually called you at night, so it must've been something in particular. Maybe bigger than Lemon doing something. You wanted to ask, truly, but he didn't seem to want to about whatever it was.

"Glad you could clear your schedule," you responded with a bitten back laugh.

"You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"

"Very," you answered with a smile.

You were next in line, so you skimmed the menu and picked what you wanted. Even with its atrocious name, it still sounded pretty promising; plus the smell in here helped.

Slipping into a booth, you scoot to the wall and place your treat on the table in front of you. The bakery was a little busy, but not the kind that you could hardly think in. It was calmer, like a murmur in the back of your head.

You questioned, toying with the packaging -it probably made a crinkling noise in the background, "How's the job going? Any more staking out?"

He paused, and you could hear a little of the frustration again but it felt distant, "It'll be another day, the guy ended up in the wrong fuckin' safe house. Not the one we'd been at for six hours."

You heard the distant voice of Lemon but you couldn't make it out, Tangerine decidedly did not tell you what he said.

"You not enjoying the city, Tan? The Big Apple?" You posed, a little sarcastically.

"Fuckin' 'ate it 'ere," he muttered, "-'s crowded and stinks. And..."

He faltered for a moment.

"And you're not 'ere," he finished, a little nonchalantly.

Oh, your heart stuttered in your chest, was he sweet now?

You knew he was always sweet, always a gentleman, but he rarely ever said it. He was more of a show-er, not a tell-er. You didn't mind, but to hear it out loud was something entirely different.

"I miss you too, Tangerine," you spoke, gently, so as to not break the moment.

"Yeah?" He asked, seemingly genuinely inquisitive.

"Of course," you nearly laughed, "-what, you think I don't miss you?"

He fell awfully silent, and something in you shifted. Did he really think-

"Tangerine?" You questioned, a bit in disbelief, "-Seriously?"

"You 'ave friends around," he murmured, low like he didn't quite want you to hear it, "-I'm halfway across the fuckin' country-"

"Sure you are," you echoed out, now fully drawn into the conversation, "-but that doesn't mean I'm not going to sit and wait for you. You know that's what I do, right? Wait for you?"

"When... When I come back," he hummed out before sighing big and long, "-no more waitin' on each other, yeah?"

"I'll wait as long as I need to for you, Tan," you hummed out, picking a piece of your treat off, "-but, if you're saying let's go somewhere, I am very into it."

Popping it into your mouth, you heard him chuckle -it made your stomach swirl. You missed the noise; it felt so special to hear, so special, to see the little grin twitch onto his lips.

"You don't 'ave to wait for me."

"I do," you clarified, "-you're my Tangerine, of course, I'm going to wait for you."

"Your Tangerine?" He questioned, and you couldn't tell the tone.

Shit.

"Well," you finished, awkwardly -fidgeting with the wrapper even more, "-yeah, I guess."

He hummed, letting out a little laugh, and it felt like everything in you was on fire. Did he agree? Did he not agree? Your brain was running at 100 miles per hour, as you listened to the silence on the other end.

Finally, you decided to change the subject.

"This is really good," you picked off more and popped it into your mouth, "-you'll definitely have to come here."

He paused for a minute, before replying -thoughtfully (and maybe a little nervously), "You think we can go together sometime? When I'm not... halfway across the fuckin' country."

"Yeah," you smiled, "-whatever you want, Tan."

The rest of the conversation was slow, and boring, honestly, but it seemed to relax Tangerine. You could almost hear the frustration dissipating, rolling off his shoulders the more you talked. You didn't have much to talk about, but you did your best for him -filled the silence.

He didn't bring up the 'my Tangerine', and promptly neither did you.

Before you could hang up, though, you heard a bit of a scuffle, and the voice changed on the phone. Footsteps pattering and cars honking, you realized suddenly they were outside.

"Hi, it's Lemon, stole the phone," he let out quickly, "-just wanted to let you know, because he's too pig-headed to fuckin' say it, he misses you like crazy. It's actually drivin' me mad."

You opened your mouth, but he kept going.

"Should've fuckin' heard 'im on the stakeout, 'Beetle this' and 'Beetle that'," he spoke mockingly, "-and as much as I love you, mate, and I do, he's drivin' me fuckin' insane."

"Lemon, calm down," you laughed out, "-I can barely understand you."

"But you did, yeah?" Lemon clarified, "-Got the whole, 'my brother seemingly can't survive without you constantly in his circle' thing?"

"You're overreacting," you pointed out, "-I'm sure he-"

"No, mate, seriously," he began again, almost desperate, "-I'm goin' to tell 'im to start callin' you daily. He gets so pissy, it's like he's gettin' fuckin' withdrawals."

"Lemon," you sighed out, "-your brother is always pissy."

"Not with you around," he countered, and your heart fluttered in your chest, "-and I can handle regular Tangerine, trust me 'ave my whole life, but this... this is new."

You somehow believed him, "Really?"

"Yeah," Lemon confirmed, before speaking softer, "-I just wanted you to know. I know my brother... isn't exactly open with 'is feelings. It's not 'is strong suit, and you know 'at, but I figured it might help to 'ear from someone else."

You paused for a moment, touched, "Thank you, Lemon."

"The bloke is crazy about you."

You paused, just listening for a second. Digesting it, maybe you didn't need a label. Maybe you already knew.

"Actually, he's fuckin' insane about you," and suddenly he was worked up again, "-just keeps repeatin' and repeatin', I swear to fuckin' god-"

"Lemon," you spoke, exasperated, but still with a smile, "-I get it."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," he sighed -seemingly stopping on the sidewalk.

"Both of you, be safe, yeah?"

"Oh, trust me, mate," he laughed, "-my brother will kill everyone in 'is path if it means he gets to come back to you."

He did end up calling you everyday. You hadn't expected it at first, but then the next day you saw his name flicker across the screen, and the next, and the next. You get the picture.

You're not sure if Lemon forced him to or not, but the text ('thank you, I owe you everything') from him seemed to say it was helping.

And you were glad to help. The idea of a daunting label and love faded to the back of your mind; because even if he didn't love you, he really cared about you and that was a big deal for Tangerine.

Plus, you think he'd love you back eventually.

That brought you to now, you were teetering around your hotel room -still safely in the same city. Ladybug was too somewhere, but he was off on his own thing -he'd call if it was anything dangerous. Or he should anyway.

Ladybug was a wildcard sometimes.

Like the time he hadn't brought a weapon on a hit, because he was doing some "self-cleansing". There were a few times of the same caliber.

You'd gotten used to it by now.

Just as you finally roamed to the couch, grabbing a blanket from the back of it and pulling it over you -switching on the TV, there was a knock on the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows in thought, who the hell could that be?

Your mind immediately went to Ladybug, and to be fair, he did usually show up with no warning. So, it could definitely be him. Plus, he was in the same city. And then, you had the sudden thought that he was hurt and needed your help.

You scampered to your feet without an extra thought, rushing to open the door -waiting for the ever-familiar face. God, he's probably-

That, however, was not the face you expected.

"Tangerine? Hey, what are you-"

Before you could say another word, he gathered you up in his arms -wrapping himself completely around you and slouching slightly to shove his face in your neck. He kicked the door shut without even looking up.

You fell silent -a bit in awe.

This (cuddling?) was very new.

You paused for a moment trying to steady yourself, before relaxing, and raising your hand to brush over his scalp. Threading your fingers through his hair, you could nearly see his shoulders drop the tension they held. Huh.

"Hey, Tan?" You offered, slow and timid.

He hummed into your skin, and you took it as a response.

"Can I-" you spoke, hesitantly, "-lock the door?"

Tangerine sat up at that, arms still wrapped around you with a quirk in his brow, "We're fuckin' assassins, love. Are you really worried about someone breakin' in?"

Still, he pulled you with him and flipped the lock.

"Well," you echoed, a touch embarrassed, "-now that you say that."

He laughed, his head tilting back slightly and you got a woosh of his cologne -which really smelt good. Your head went a little fuzzy at it.

Before you could say a word though, Tangerine leaned forward and kissed you -simple and domestic. Warm and fuzzy. It was just a press of the lips, but it was a little longer -like he somehow needed it. Wanted to feel it longer. Have you around him, maybe.

When you parted and your eyes fluttered open, you brought a hand to his face, "Are you okay, Tan? You're kind of... freaking me out."

He pressed his lips together, and something in him softened -you did not see the hard exterior at all with the moment. It was both refreshing and terrifying -you couldn't decide which one wom you over.

You took his silence as the initiative to keep talking, "You have never hugged me like that, ever, and you're being sweet. Suspiciously sweet."

Tangerine smiled at you for a moment, before pulling you forward and resting his head on top of yours. Moving slightly so he could bury his nose in your hair, he muttered out, "'Ere's a first time for everythin', yeah?"

"Tan," you pressed, but decidedly didn't move, "-it's not that I don't like this, far from it actually, but you... Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath in, before pulling back -running a hand through his hair, "Just tired, love, exhausted."

"You weren't supposed to be here until Monday," you questioned, grabbing his hand and placing yours in his stead -fingers brushing through the hair (like you'd ever give that up), "-it's not Monday."

"Lemon, the dick, told me to come back," he explained, leaning ever-so-slightly into your hand, "-told me he was fuckin' sick of it and booked me a ticket."

"Did you get the job done? The hit?"

"Yeah," he clarified, "-he just wanted to stay in the city longer. Wanted to go 'sightseeing' like a fuckin' tourist. Did he forget we were 'ere on a job?"

"Tangerine," you laughed, "-Lemon deserves to have fun. Life isn't just about the job."

He looked at you a certain way then, some affectionate haze bloomed across his eyes, "Yeah, it isn't."

You thought for a spare second, he may have been talking about you. That you were the other side of his life. And the more you thought about how he showed up, sweet and touchy, maybe he was.

"You know you can-" you paused, "-relax with me, right? I didn't mean to say you can't be like that, I just... I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

Tangerine pursed his lips.

"I'm not, shit-" you exhaled, "-You can be whatever sort of Tangerine you want to be with me. I won't mind."

"'At's an odd way of sayin' it, but-" he responded, "-I understand, love."

"Good," you patted your hand on his chest, "-because I was really hanging on by a thread there."

He laughed, a tiny little chuckle, and without hesitation, kissed you again -soft and slow. There was no end goal with it, just like he wanted to know you were there -you were real.

You'd talked about it before, the nightmares. The ones of you with a different face, dying, and all he could do was stand by watching; or even the ones with your same face, and the same thing. Dying right in front of him, and he was helpless.

"Tangerine?" You hummed, soft and in between the press of lips.

"Yes, love?"

You pulled back, raising your hands to cup his face and thumbs lingering under his eyebags, "Let's get some sleep, yeah? You look tired."

He turned his face into your hand, kissing your palm -his mustache tickled a little, and with a slow, succinct nod -he agreed.

Just as you began to pull him into the room though, he suddenly stopped. Feet frozen in place, you spun around to look at him.

"Just so ya know," he spoke, slow and soft -not breaking the mood, "-you're my Beetle too."

You smiled, mimicking, "Yours?"

"Yeah," he smiled -big and bright and only for you to see, "-definitely fuckin' mine."

Yeah, he loves you. You were surprised you'd ever even wondered otherwise.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #tangerine #tangerine bt oneshot #he/him reader

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

Text

saying something stupid (like I love you) || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.

TW: angsty (with a happy ending), crying, cursing (it's Tangerine), and avoidance (Tangerine is really bad at feelings, what can I say).

[[A/N: yes this is based off that one song. It's so GOODDD. And also something Tangerine would totally do. Peep the Little Women reference. Enjoy :)]]

"C'mon," Lemon urged, "-'s not 'at hard, mate."

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly chewing the inside of your cheek, "You say that as if you've ever been in a relationship. Ever."

You had known the twins since middle school (probably), both raised with shitty parents and even shittier lives. When you saw them for the first time swindling a boy out of his money in a go-fish game, you essentially blackmailed them.

('If I don't get a share, I'm telling the teacher.')

You actually even knew their names, and them yours, but you preferred the codenames -you were the one to come up with them afterall.

Tangerine almost popped a blood vessel when you met that day, but Lemon smiled big and bright and pulled a five out of his brother’s hand. You and Lemon were fast friends after that; Tangerine took a lot more time.

That being said, when you were finally friends -near high school, he started to... fill out his form. Naturally, being close to someone who is handsome, you find yourself in... certain states of mind. And what started as a little crush your senior year, snowballed to now.

Where you were in love with him.

You probably told Lemon after a few years of it not going away. But, you'd find that every day after you'd regret that decision.

"Sally Jones," Lemon offered up, seemingly in defense of himself.

You scoffed, "The girl you dated for a month?"

He nodded his head.

"You didn't even like her," you clarified, "-you liked that she had cable so you could watch your fucking trains."

"So?"

"So-" you said a little loudly, turning to the bedroom where Tangerine slept and drastically lowering your voice at the distinct absence of shuffling, "-Lemon. We have been best friends since we were kids, that's... That's a lot to mess up because I'm... because I have feelings."

"What so-" Lemon starts, "What if he gets married one day? What are goin' to do? Just... Just fuckin' bury it down?"

"First off, he's too much of a dick to get married, secondly-" you paused, letting out a big sigh -something in your chest twisting, "-yeah. I mean, it's what I've done for all of these years, isn't it?"

He frowned for a minute, hand finding its place on your shoulder, "You ever think ya deserve to get it off your chest? 'At maybe you deserve the happiness it'll give ya?"

"Might give me," you corrected.

"Look, I know my brother," Lemon argued, brown eyes layered onto yours, "-and I know he's been fuckin' crazy about you since you stole that fuckin' five dollars on the playground."

"I didn't steal it," you clarified, a little defensively "-we made a deal. We negotiated-"

"Y/N," he refocused, "-I just wanna see the two of ya happy, yeah?"

"I know," you spoke, softer, "-I know, Lemon."

Before another word could be spoken and it really seemed like Lemon wanted to, Tangerine stepped into the living room -hair still sleep-mussed, and clothes far more casual than what he'd wear normally. Not that it was new to you, but it still made your heart flutter a little.

"You 'avin' a fuckin' pow wow without me?"

"Morning, sunshine," you smiled with a sing-songy tone.

"Fuck you," Tangerine muttered (a tiny little smile quirked onto his lips), before slinking off into the kitchen -most likely in search of coffee.

When you stayed seated, eyes flickering over whatever reality TV show was on -Lemon nearly burned a whole in your side.

'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.

He was wordless, brown eyes darting from you to the kitchen -a few times in a row actually.

'Now?' you mouthed back.

'The sooner the fuckin' better,' Lemon mouthed back, shoving you further down the couch.

Well, you debated to yourself, it would get him off your back, and that would be nice.

But, you didn't feel so scared then -not like all the years prior. It was like something... something had shifted in you and you just wanted it done.

Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.

You took a deep breath in and with raised hands (in mock surrender), stood up.

'Fine.'

Lemon seemed taken aback a moment, shock, like he'd never actually expected you to cave; to be fair, you were a little surprised too. But... you were tired, and if heartbreak was to come of it -you wanted to get it over with now.

'But if he doesn't...' you mouthed, '-you owe me everything in your wallet.'

He neatly nodded in agreement.

You swallowed, squeezing your hands together and with the timidness of a doe, entered the kitchen.

The kitchen in the apartment was small, but modern-looking. It was all sleek metal and plain colored cabinets, looked like something out of a magazine. That being said, Tangerine fit right in.

Your eyes unwillingly went to his hair, the unkempt curls, and you briefly wondered if they felt soft.

"Hey, Tan?" you echoed out -trying to keep your voice level and calm.

He held up a finger -as if to say 'one moment', before fidgeting with his coffee. He took it basically black so it didn't take him too long to do so. Just a dash of both sugar and milk, he spun around to look at you.

You supposed you hadn't thought about the idea that he had to be looking at you while you said it. His eyes were always so... bright and distracting -you could hardly handle it when he looked at you so intensely on a regular day. How could you do that today? Right now?

You cleared your throat, wringing your hands together, "I, um, I need to tell you something."

Tangerine pursed his lips, looking you over -leaning slightly on the counter with his cup in his hand. His eyes dashed over yours with a curious sort of question there -scanning over you like he was trying to figure out just what it was.

"Ya alright, love?"

You blinked, trying to clear your head, and opening your mouth to respond. In what way, you weren't sure but any at all sounded good-

"Get fuckin' on with it, mate," Lemon yelled out from the living room -apparently hearing everything in here he could.

Tangerine was just looking at you -blue eyes just looking.

Something in you snapped.

"Jesus Christ, fine, Lemon," you hissed in frustration -words coming out before you could stop them, "-Tangerine, I'm in love with you."

Tangerine froze.

You weren't even sure he was breathing.

"Tangerine," you stepped forward, concerned, "-are you okay?"

Before you could so much as touch him though, he, without a word, beelined out of the kitchen. So fast you were left reeling in his dust, blinking a little deliriously.

You instantly spun around your heels and rushed to the living room -just in time to see Tangerine swipe the keys (the car keys) off of the little table near the door and promptly leave the apartment.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed into your mind -like a pin dropping into silence.

Something swirling up into your chest, you swallowed -something heavy on your tongue and even heavier on your heart. You blankly stared at the door, like if you wished hard enough he'd come back and tell you he loved you. That all of it had just been a gut reaction.

After a few minutes, that did not happen.

"Lemon...?" You croaked out, eyes suddenly blurry and heart pounding in your chest -had you really just ruined it all?

"Lemon-" you let out a breath and it somehow turned into a sob. It felt like your chest had been cracked open and your heart crushed to dust.

God, you'd lost him. You fucking lost your best friend because you decided to be stupid and fall in love with him-

You don't know when you fell to the floor, crying, but you do remember Lemon rushing over to you -brown eyes guilty and somewhat confused.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He kept repeating it, over and over, but all you could see in your head was Tangerine frozen and all you could feel was a loss. You were grieving him, there was no way anything could go back to normal-

You'd have to get separate jobs, live on your own-

"I'm not leavin' you," Lemon said suddenly, and you realized you must've been muttering, "-My brother can shove 'at idea up his arse."

Without another breath, you pushed yourself into his arms -wrapped around him into a hug.

"Liked you much better anyway," he muttered, and there was a laugh that burst through your chest.

You and Lemon ended up staying at that apartment for about three more days, waiting to see if Tangerine would return. All of his clothes were here, and you weren't entirely sure he even had his wallet in his pajamas -but he didn't show back up.

Not that he hadn't been in contact, Lemon had been both answering and not answering phone calls from him almost by the hour. He always ran to another room to answer them though, and you respected the privacy -it's not like you wanted to hear from Tangerine anyway.

Even though he was your friend and you were worried, you knew it best not to talk to him.

"You're a fuckin' idiot, mate," Lemon hissed out -bitter and disapproving, "-none of it makes any fuckin' sense, I swear you were-"

There was silence for a minute, you assumed Tangerine interrupted him.

"Are you really fuckin' serious with me right now?" Came back with a much harsher sentiment and the tone of it chilled you to the bone -Lemon was mad.

Which you'd really only seen once or twice, in grade school, either when someone picked on you and you cried (both boys reacted similarly to that) or when someone, unprompted, hurt Tangerine.

You were suddenly flashed back to your senior prom when a guy had asked you but it had all turned out to be some joke. 'He's fuckin' stupid not to like you, love,' rang through your head -familiar blue eyes and arm wrapped solidly around you pulled you into his side, '-doesn't deserve you anyway.'

There was a bitter taste in your mouth.

Lemon pulled you out of your thoughts, "What were 'ey supposed to think, mate? That you were so joyous you couldn't stay fuckin' still?!"

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, mindlessly packing your bag. The next piece made you stutter to a stop. Hands lingering on a long-sleeved button-up, one you'd borrowed from Tangerine and he'd never asked for back, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest.

No more crying, you thought.

With not a word, you took the fabric in your hands, leaving your room, and shoving it into Tangerine's bag.

You did stay in the room for a moment, breathing in the... Tangerine of it all.

And then, you left.

"No, no, mate," Lemon laughed, incredulously, "-I'm not doin' shit for you. You come 'ere and do damage control yourself."

You pulled your bag up on your shoulder, it was just a little duffle -you didn't carry much job to job, and trailed into the living room.

Lemon immediately straightened, cutting off Tangerine, "I've got to go, brother. I think you know 'at to do."

With the precise press of a finger, he hung up.

Letting out a big sigh, Lemon turned to you, "Let me get 'is stuff, and then we'll leave, yeah?"

And you did.

You're not sure what the last call was about, but after that one, he started calling you too.

Lemon had decided to cool off on the jobs, just visiting a few cities out of want -kind of treating it like a tourist. It was weird, but not unwelcome. One of those nights, it started.

You were eating on the couch, some sort of reality TV show distracting you with Lemon -when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. You unhesitatingly went to pick it up, eyes smoothing across the name-

'Tan ��'.

Staring at it for a moment in disbelief, you quickly declined and set your phone back on the coffee table.

He didn't call you again until late that night when Lemon was asleep in his room; you weren't asleep, to be fair, just staring up at the ceiling.

The name flickered across your screen, and with a little hesitation, you answered.

"What the hell do you want, Tan?"

He was silent for a minute, slow to respond -speaking a little in disbelief, "Hey, love."

"Tangerine, don't-" you started, something breaking in your voice -you cleared your throat, "-That's not fair."

"Love-"

"You're being mean," you echoed out, tone a little broken and weepy -it was all you could say.

He was silent for a long while then, almost exhausted, "I'm sorry."

"It feels like," and you could feel the tears bubbling up, "-it feels like when that stupid guy ditched me at prom," your voice got much quieter -a little pathetic but you didn’t care, "-but you're not here, Tan."

'I want you here,' went unsaid.

"I'm sorry," he repeated -but this time a little more dim.

"Don't you think I deserve to hear that in person?" You offered -swallowed back a sob, you were crying by now, just silent tears down your cheeks, "Don't you have any respect for me-"

"I never meant to-"

"Save it," you interrupted -tired and exhausted, "-I need to sleep."

Before he could say another word, you hung up.

And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, that was between you and the apartment walls.

He didn't stop after that night, calling you more than Lemon -he still answered. You didn't. You had nothing to say to him, until he decided to apologize, in person. Or even just come back at all. He couldn't run forever. No matter how much he didn't want to reject you, you needed to hear it.

Couldn't he understand that?

Because every day he didn't, there was a traitorous little part of you that held onto the hope that maybe he had just been overwhelmed. Maybe he just wasn't ready.

And that hurt more than anything else. That he wouldn't come to tell you otherwise, when you already knew it.

There were a few times he'd call you, and Lemon would call him back: 'Just leave 'em alone, mate.' And then, he'd disappear off into a room -ready to talk about whatever they did.

And then, about a month after the start of it all, you heard a knock on the door.

It was a normal day, where you and Lemon ate takeout and watched whatever show was on -which was often shitty. He didn't talk about Tangerine, so the conversations were more lighthearted -made you feel better.

But when you heard the door, you froze.

Lemon seemed to be looking for your reaction, brown eyes darting all over your face. And for a moment, you were relieved that he was okay but then your face settled into something strained.

You told him you loved him and he ran away. You didn't think it could get much worse than rejection, but it did.

Lemon took the look as a sign to gently rub your shoulder, comforting, before standing up and heading to the door.

Deciding to focus on the TV and eat, you did so. You only flinched when he swung open the door, and in quiet whispers, you heard his voice again. It felt like your whole world was crumbling, you thought you were ready for this -the rejection. But you still loved him so much-

You blinked away tears, determined not to let him see you cry. You wouldn't accept pity, not from him.

You knew his footfall, knew exactly where he stopped behind the couch and you even felt his hand come to clutch it right by your head. You ignored him.

"Y/N," he started and his voice seemed a little wrecked.

Not knowing entirely why (or maybe knowing exactly), you turned to meet him.

Tangerine was disheveled, hair messy like he'd been running his hand through it for days -which you knew he did when he was nervous, and his new suit messy. He did look a little like he'd been in a bar fight, and won. You also knew he did that when he needed some stress relief.

Was that why he was here? For refuge?

"I-"

You abruptly stood up, food falling from your lap, and somehow safely onto the couch, "I'm too tired for this."

Tangerine looked at you for a moment, and you thought it was a little desperate but you smushed the idea without hesitation.

This time, you were the one to run away from him.

You found immediate solace in your room, slinking against the door and breathing so quickly -your eyes fogged up. Needing something to do, you decided to unpack your bag.

Unwillingly, you heard a mutter of voices, and even Lemon's footfall as he disappeared into his room. Tangerine took a bit longer, but when you heard the door shut, you let out a long sigh of relief. Not tonight.

Before you could finish with your clothes though, you heard his steps again -slow and hesitant. You thought for a second that maybe he was leaving again, and something in your stomach twisted.

Instead, though, all you hear was them booming closer. You stilled.

You had the off thought to run over and lock it, but it was too late then. The door opened slowly like he wasn't sure if you were asleep. And you chastised yourself for not thinking of that.

When he opened it all the way, his eyes landed squarely on you. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you could shut him down and go to bed.

Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.

Your eyes darted to it, his hand clutching a shirt -the shirt you had shoved back into his bag. How did he even know it was different?

"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.

"Tangerine," you countered, swallowing back the heaviness in your voice, "-that's yours."

"'S not," he explained, "-I fuckin' gave it to you."

"You let me borrow it," you clarified, tone wavering slightly, "-I'm just returning it."

"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"

"Tangerine."

"Take the fuckin' shirt, love," he reiterated, "'s not mine anymore."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-can you not? It's late, and I'm tired-"

"It's your shirt," he interrupted, something in his eyes but you couldn't quite label it, "-take it, and I'll fuckin' leave you alone, yeah?"

"I'm not-" you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment -trying to bat away the tears, the frustration, "-Tangerine, I don't want it."

"Well, I want you to fuckin' have it."

"Do you think about what I want?" you echoed, "-Ever?"

Tangerine opened his mouth, but you were on a roll now.

"I..." you laughed incredulously, looking up to stop your tears (you blinked them away), "-Tangerine, it's been a month."

He tried again, but you didn't let him.

"You. You left," you sniffled slightly, clearing your throat -prolonging the inevitable, "-Tangerine, I... I told you that I loved you and you ran away."

"Love," he started, small and barely there.

"Stop-" you swallowed, "-Don't call me that, it's not... it's not fair."

"How is it not fair?"

"You don't-" you groaned, swiping at your eyes -you were crying now, and out of the corner of your eye you saw his hand twitch (like he wanted to comfort you).

He stood in silence waiting, patient.

"Tangerine, why didn't you just tell me then?" You asked the question that bounced around your mind ever since he left.

"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"

You flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the name again -something twisting in your stomach, and squeezed your eyes shut. Breathing a big breath in through your nose, you started.

"That you don't love me," you clarified, and now your voice was shaking and your eyes were blurry, "You could've-"

Tangerine seemed to be processing something, a flicker in his eyes.

"You could've made it so much easier if you'd just-" you frustratingly wiped your eyes again, "-said that. But instead, you ran away, and all I could think about was what I had done wrong for you to-"

"You didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth?" You practically begged, "-Why don't you tell me now? So I don't have to... So, I know."

"That's not..."

"Tangerine," he looked at you -and you but back a sob, "-I deserve the truth. Just say it. I know you're scared you'll hurt me, but I... I've survived worse."

"What makes ya think it'll hurt you?" He offered, and your heart in your chest started beating loudly -ringing in your ears.

"Because you ran away," you repeat, wiping at your eyes again, "-I think that makes the answer pretty clear."

"Y/N-"

"Just fucking reject me!" you exclaimed, not loud enough to bother neighbors but enough to bounce around the room (Lemon probably woke up to it), "-It's not that hard, Tan, you've practically done it before."

He seemed to flinch at that, grimace even, at the mention of what he'd done. You were glad he felt some kind of guilt. Still, he remained quiet.

"For the love of god, Tangerine-" you echoed out, shaky now and your heart on the floor -vulnerable, "-just say it. It's not that hard."

"I fuckin' can't," he finally answered -something bubbling up in his tone; his hands clenched by his sides -shirt still clutched between his fingers.

"Can't," you questioned, voice shaky and tears building in your eyes, "-or won't?"

"Can't," he reiterated.

"This is ridiculous, Tangerine," you whimpered -swallowing back a sob, "-you can't give me fucking peace?"

"Y/N-"

"Give me a reason," you interrupted, brash, "-give me the reason you can't reject me right here right now."

"It's not 'at fuckin' simple, love," he remarked, low in tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Nothing ever is!" you reasoned, "-Just tell me, that's all I want."

"It's not..."

"Tangerine, please."

He swallowed, eyes dipping to yours -scanning over you with your no doubt red eyes and shaky hands. Like he was thinking, deciding on what to say. All you could see was reluctance.

He let out a big long sigh, fidgeting with his hands (and the shirt in the mix).

"Tangerine-"

"'S not how I feel."

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

"I can't..." he trailed off, eyes off you and flickering toward the ground, "-I can't reject you because it's not what I feel, love."

Your breathing halted in your chest. Heart twisting into something so complex, sad and angry and hopeful.

There's no way, he- Why the hell did he run away?

"That's not funny, Tangerine."

"It's not a fuckin' joke," he responded, eyes finally back on yours -and you tried to read them all you could.

"Stop, no," you echoed out, shaking your head, "-don't pity me, just tell me the truth-"

"I am," he reiterated.

"No you're not," you laughed incredulously, "-it makes no sense."

He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, "I was scared."

"That's not-" you started, before clearing your throat, "Do you not think I was scared? That I wasn't putting everything on the line to say that? I thought I was going to lose you and then I did-"

"You didn't lose me," he spoke, softer, "-you could never lose me, love."

"I did, Tan," you sniffled, "-I lost you."

"No-"

"Tangerine," you echoed, "-you left. And I thought, I thought that my best friend was gone. I thought that because I had stupid feelings I lost you. You ran away, Tan!"

"They aren't stupid," he responded and it seemed that he was deciding on whether to step closer -you took a preemptive step back.

"At least," you sighed out, voice cracking, "-at least you knew the truth, I... I didn't know shit. You could have never come back-"

"I did," he interrupted, "-I did come back, love. And I know I'm fuckin' stupid, Lemon has been drillin' it in my head for weeks. I regret walkin' out of 'at fuckin' room so much."

His eyes were shiny with tears now, as he stepped forward into your room -hands reaching forward like he'd wanted to touch you, but he stopped.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you? What if you just-" you sniffled, "-run away again?"

"I won't," he spoke -unwavering, "-I swear on whatever fuckin' god is up there, 'at I won't do it again."

"I don't-" you whispered out, clutched at your arms.

"I never meant to hurt you, love," he echoed out, stepping closer, "-I fuckin' hate myself for doin' it. I will never fuckin' do it again."

"Tangerine, this isn't-"

"I'm fuckin' madly in love with you," he finished, laughing a little -slowly placing his hands on your arms. You didn't move away, and he seemed to smile at that, "-'ave been since we were kids, and you pulled 'at greedy shit on me."

"It wasn't greedy," you defended.

"Most certainly fuckin' was," he tsked back, moving one hand to your face -thumb wiping back and forth.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but there was still something heavy in your stomach. Tossing like waves.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally, "-I got fuckin' scared and ran away. It wasn't fair to you, and-" his hand brushed against your cheek, "-I'd beat myself bloody senseless if I could."

You laughed at that for a moment, and his smile got a little wider.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, something clawing up your throat again.

He frowned, allowing his hand to fall to his side -sighing, "I'm a fuckin' coward, love."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything.

"You confessed to me and it was so fuckin' brave," he looked at you like you were the sun then, bright and warm, "-and I... I couldn't spit out a fuckin' word. I just went into autopilot and..."

"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.

"Yeah," he spoke, confirming, "-ran away."

Before you could hold your tongue, words slipped out, "That is pretty cowardly."

Tangerine laughed, a big one, and something in you warmed -a smile perking onto your lips.

"It is," he agreed, "-I'll give you fuckin' 'at."

And then he paused, eye flitting over you -seeming to detail all your features in his head. Tracing over your nose, your eyes, your eyebrows, your lips-

"Are we okay, love?"

It was soft and hopeful, and something in you softened -your hurt letting up just a smidge. It wasn't gone, not yet.

"Yeah, we're good," you hummed out, taking a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, "-but you have a lot to fix."

"I know," he hummed back, blue eyes soft and affectionate, "-I'll do it. Whatever you fuckin' want."

"Well," you smiled, so close to his face -merely a breath away, "-I think I've got my first idea."

"Do you?" He offered with a smirk, hands coming to hold the sides of your face.

"Yeah," you brought your hands up on top of his, "-kiss me, please."

Tangerine didn't hesitate after that, pulling you closer with the grasp of his hands -still somehow gentle. His mustache tickled your upper lip, and you laughed a little -a grin spreading along his own lips in response. And after, it was slow, languid, each press of the lips just a touch more desperate -like you were his oxygen. Fingers pressed into your skin, your head went a little fuzzy -fingers twisting around his palms.

Speaking of oxygen, you parted.

Before you could so much as say a word though, Tangerine pressed a small one to your lips -simple. You laughed a little.

And then again, and again, and again, and again-

"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."

"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.

And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"Tan?"

"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"

Tangerine opened his mouth.

"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.

"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."

You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"

"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #tangerine #tangerine bt oneshot #gn!reader

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

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Thanks for the tag :))).

Anyone who wants to do it, feel free!

Picrew challenge. It's easy, just make a you from this picrew lol

No presh tags: @jadore-andor @emilykaldwen @massivecolorspygiant @theradioactivespidergwen @bouncehousedemons @em-likes-to-lurk @moongirldreamer @corrabell @ohhstark @selfproclaimedunicorn @humanpurposes @thesunfyre4446 and anyone else! Go nuts

#not tan #not tangerine

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

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find yourself (and me) || Tangerine x trans male!reader

Request by @random-thoughts-004.

TW: mention of deadname (it's like your codename but like still), fake death, grief, blood, wounds, murder, guns, knives, scars, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: Thanks for my first request !!! I hope I did it justice! Enjoy this slowburn and kinda angst riddled oneshot. Reader's first codename is Butterfly. Second is Beetle. (You work with Ladybug's agency.) ]]

The first time you met Tangerine was one of your first jobs ever. You remember it so well because well, the twins made it memorable. They made everything memorable, you'd come to realize but not now.

It was a gala, and you were dressed well -fancy even, with hair perfectly in place and shiny fabric cascading.

The job was an easy one, getting your feet wet and whatnot; not that you hadn't wanted the harder ones, it was just like a test run for your agency -seeing if you could do it. Which, with your experience, was kind of ridiculous but you didn't want to get into it right now.

All you needed was information from a man, some sort of billionaire -you weren't honestly sure. The location of someone else, his brother... cousin? You knew his name and that was all that mattered.

You finished your drink, and with a walk that could kill, you made your way to the floor. He was talking to some men (tall with bleached tips, and another one broad shoulders with a mustache), but you simply pushed yourself through.

His eyes, naturally, rested on you, and you used it toward your advantage.

"Hi," you smiled over the rim of your glass, fluttering your eyelashes for good measure, "-do you mind if I interrupt? I've been dying to talk to you all day."

The man, Richard you remembered, smiled smoothly, "'Course, honey. We can always pick up this conversation later."

With a glance toward the men, you pushed your arm into his and began walking away.

You had felt the eyes boring into your back at the time, but you didn't think anything of it. You probably should have, but to be fair this was a test run, was it not?

The man guided you to a balcony, empty with the night sky and stars twinkling. You would've thought it was pretty, if you didn't have an objective.

"Name's Richard," he spoke, still close by your side, "-what's yours, sweetheart?"

Swallowing the bile in your mouth (he really wasn't your type), you smirked -playfully, trailing your fingers onto his upper arm, "I prefer to be a mystery to the men I meet, Richard."

He grinned, it was working well, "I'm not the first then?"

The rest of your conversation was much of the same, low chats about things that didn't really matter -hobbies, jobs, etc. And when you casually mentioned family, it was smooth sailing.

"Got a cousin visiting one of my houses down in Miami, but I haven't seen the rest in years."

You weaseled out the name, and with a cunning smile, went to refill your drink. He'd said he'd have someone do it for you, but you said something about 'clingy already?' and his masculinity came in check.

Your job was done. You were 30 minutes from getting home, out of these heels, and watching your favorite show with the emptiness of your apartment. These kinds of crowds were exhausting, you needed it.

That was until hands shot out of a closet and pulled you in so fast you couldn't even scream-

"What the hell?"

The light was on, thank god, as you took in the man. He was broad shoulders from before, dressed in a fancy suit -three piece, with curly gelled back hair and blue eyes. Oh, and the mustache. He was your type.

You shimmied out of his grip, pushing yourself to the farthest wall, "What are you doing?! You can't just pull women into closets-"

"Who fuckin' sent you?" He uttered out, harsh and brash -british accent, your mind noted.

"Sent me?" You played dumb, "-This is a gala, I was invited, prick."

"Don't fuckin' lie to me," he hissed, pulling out a gun and suddenly, this was all very real.

"Jesus Christ," you raised your hands, "-why the hell does it matter?"

"You're after my hit," he clarified, like it was fact -pushing the gun further into your face.

"Yeah, no," you laughed, "-my job here was information. I literally just talked to him, if you paid any attention to your surroundings-"

"Awfully snappy for someone with a fuckin' gun in your face," he retorted, but you could tell that his frustration had significantly lessened.

"Shoot me then," you egged on, "-lose your cover, and your target, and shoot me."

His mouth flattened, eyes hardening, as the realization slipped over his features; you loved being right.

Gotcha.

With the speed of a snail, he lowered his gun -jaw muscle flexing. You could tell he was pissed that you were right. This was fun, you would've stayed all night to get on his nerves, if this dress didn't make you feel like your skin was peeling off.

In very different circumstances, you would've been glad to be trapped in a closet with him. But, we can't always get what we want, can we?

Without another word, you slipped out of the closet and made your way to the door. And when you got home you scrubbed your skin clean until the flowery scent of your perfume went away (it made you sick), but that was nobody's business but your own.

The second time you met him was very different. Your job was a hit, a CEO of some fancy business -you didn't really care. You'd posed as some meeting for him -after hours, it was actually really simple to get this guy alone.

Anyway, you had just shot a bullet through his head when the door came crashing open -easily, you switched targets.

Instead of some innocent, however, it was the man -still wearing a three piece suit and the same mustache. He wore it well though, so you couldn't blame him.

"Not you again," you groaned.

"What the hell are you doin' 'ere?" He replied eyes scrunched and eyebrow raised.

"My job?" You answered, still pointing the gun at him without hesitation.

He raised his hands, begrudgingly, and looked you over, "You 'ere for a hit?"

You kicked the body at your feet, sarcastically, "Ya think?"

His eyes flicked down to the man, before back up to you, "Lucky for you, I'm just 'ere for a drive. You let me go, we call it even?"

You pursed your lips, tilting your head to the side -thinking on it, "Fine, but if I see you again it's fair game."

"Can't fuckin' wait, love," he remarked, and you honestly weren't sure if it was all sarcasm. Huh.

"Butterfly," you said as an introduction.

He furrowed his brows for a moment before a wave of understanding crossed over his face, "Tangerine."

Needless to say, you left that building laughing your ass off.

The next time after that you met Lemon, and then suddenly you were a trio. You switched agencies and were constantly partnered for missions, and even when you weren't, they'd follow you and keep an eye out for you. Even when you told them that you could handle it, they still showed up (Lemon always blamed Tangerine).

You don't know when Tangerine started shifting in your head -from friend to... something else. A scary something else. But you think it started here.

You were in a safe house, one you'd crashed in a lot actually. An apartment in the city with three bedrooms and a fancy kitchen, you could picture it as a home if you thought about it long enough. Couldn't see it without Tangerine and Lemon anymore though.

It was late, and you were watching some late-night reruns of a show you'd never seen -it was some sort of love triangle, and you somehow already had a favorite actually. You couldn't sleep, it was just something in your head -nightmares. You had close calls before and tonight was one of them; you wanted to be alive a little bit longer because of it.

"Hey," the voice interrupted your haze, drawing your attention to your right.

It was Tangerine, he was wearing normal clothes -baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt with his hair ungelled (you were still getting used to it). Blue eyes flickered across you, he could read you really well -you hated it.

He didn't ask if you were okay, didn't have to he knew, just sat by your side on the couch -you offered him some blanket. He took it, closer into your side than he was before -it made your head spin just a little. You figured because you hadn't been so close to someone in so long.

Before you could stop yourself, you started talking, "You ever think about what your life would be like if we didn't do what we do?"

It was sleepy coming out of your mouth, slightly slurred, but still genuine. You always got a little talkative around him, you weren't sure entirely why.

Tangerine deflected, blue eyes fuzzy over your face (you weren't looking at him), "Do you?"

"Yeah," you muttered, low and quiet, "-all the time."

"What would you do?" he asked, and he was genuine -you could always tell when he wanted to listen.

"I think..." you started, trying to decide your words, "- I think I'd want to be married. Is that stupid?"

"'s not stupid, love," he spoke, soft with his gruff sleep voice.

"It'd be nice, I think," you hummed, perhaps saying too much but you didn't care then, "-forever with one person. With this job, you're always alone. Jumping from place to place, partner to partner. I think it'd be nice to have somebody who was always there."

Tangerine didn't say a word.

"The real question is if I'm marriable," you laughed, "-do you think I have enough positive characteristics for someone to marry me, Tan?"

It was kind of a joke, and you expected him to respond that way. He didn't.

"Yeah," he whispered, dead serious, "-I do."

You were taken aback a little bit, something unfurling in your chest that you hadn't quite named yet but you knew it now, "You think so?"

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer -your head settling on his shoulder without hesitation. You stayed that way for a few moments, breathing in his cologne and shampoo -he smelt so good, how?

"Someone would marry you," he finally responded -something there in his voice but you couldn't name it, "-'d be fuckin' stupid not to."

It was going great, really great. Until it wasn't.

You can't even remember the mission now, but it was one that the twins followed you in on. You convinced them to wait out in the car, you could handle this.

And while you were, your earcon went off -static voice in your ear. You had to strain to hear it, but once you did, you wished you hadn't. It was Maria, your previous handler -you had no idea how she got your connection, actually. It didn't matter then, the voice echoing through your head.

"Butterfly, listen to me, you have to get out of there."

"Maria?" you questioned, slamming a guy's head into a wall, "-'Would love to catch up but I'm a little busy right now-"

"Butterfly, listen. You are in danger."

"Aren't I always?" you laughed, sliding a blade across another guy's neck -he sunk to the floor.

"I got intel on a manhunt for you, the White Death is looking for you. You are not safe, listen to me."

You stalled in place, your heart dropping to your stomach, breathless, "What?"

"He's been surveying your safe house. He knows what job you're on, you have to get out of there now."

One of them rushed you from behind, you promptly elbowed his throat and he let you go -you spun on your heel and shot him square in the head. It was on instinct, your brain was running a thousand miles a minute.

"I can't hide from a guy like him, Maria," you spoke, a sort of shake in your tone, "-he'll find me. He'll find the twins-"

"Listen to me," she repeated, "-we have a plan, but it's not going to be easy."

"Yeah," you sighed, "-okay. I've got nothing to lose, right?"

"There's a car on the westside of the building, you need to head that way and-"

"Maria," you thought of the twins, "-I already have a ride."

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, you are not making it out of this building alive."

"Jesus," you laughed, "-have a little faith in me-"

"Butterfly, you are not making it out of this building alive."

"I am," you replied, "-I don't know what you're thinking but I'm perfectly capable."

"You, Butterfly, are not making it out of this building alive. Are you listening?"

"I don't-"

"As far as anyone knows, you are dead. As far as the White Death knows, you are dead."

"Oh," you responded, softly, "-this is... I'm... What about the twins?"

"They can't know. The White Death will be surveying them for months after, if they don't play the part-"

"They would," you ushered out, tears burning at the backs of your eyes, "-they... They could not see me for awhile but they would know-"

"I'm sorry, but if you're actually going to stay alive, they can't know. The White Death is smart, he knows how close the three of you are. If they know, he'll know."

"Please," you whispered, you felt like you couldn't breathe, "-without them... You don't know what it'll put them through, Maria, I can't-"

"I'm sorry."

Tears fell before you could stop them, heavy and your throat felt like it was closing up (good god, you couldn't breathe). You stumbled to the window, eyes catching on the car that waited for you by the entrance -if you squinted you could see them, you just wanted to see them again. Even if it was the last time-

"Butterfly, breathe, I need you to focus, okay? For them and you."

"Will you tell them first, before... before anyone else? They deserve to-" your voice cracked, "-They deserve to know first."

"Of course."

You swallowed, gasping for a breath and desperately wiping at your eyes -it felt like you were suffocating. Even still, you righted yourself -for the twins.

"What do you need from me?"

"Leave your phone and something they would know you wouldn't leave behind. They have to... They have to believe it."

With a shaky breath, you threw your phone to the floor -it cracked, but you didn't care. You scanned over yourself, digging into your pockets for something -anything. And then you remembered, the scratching on the fabric -it was your bracelet.

It was a gift from the twins, a simple charm bracelet with one single charm: a butterfly.

You remembered when they gave it to you, you promising to keep it on every day. It was the best gift you'd ever been given-

Hands shaking, you unclasped it -watching as it clattered to the ground, butterfly looking up at you. With another breath, you pulled your knife out of your pocket -three initials carved into the handle. Something in you cracked then as you looked at it, a little shrine to you -this is what they'd see. When they were told you were dead, they'd see this. That was... That was it.

You couldn't stay here anymore.

"Maria," you swallowed, blinking back as many tears as you could, "-where's the car?"

The next 4 years were a lot. You'd finally become yourself, a man, and you lived out in a small little cabin in the woods. You lived next to a teeny-tiny town where everyone knew each other, and you made your life there.

It was a sunny day when a car pulled up to your home -a fancy, expensive one. You knew it well, it dropped you off here all that time ago. Maria.

She smiled when she saw you, skimming over you -she knew about the transition but she hadn't seen you since before, "You look good, happier."

"Thanks," you smiled, leading her into your home. She was well aware of your home, every few years, she visited. Told you things, about the twins -their successes, their failures. They were infamous now. Sometimes it felt like you were there again, you could close your eyes and smell Tangerine's cologne and see Lemon's smile-

"I have some news," Maria started leaning against your countertop -she was always so rigid, all business.

"Yeah?" you smiled, "-What did they do now?"

"The White Death is dead," she spoke -frank and direct.

Something in your shoulders lifted, tears burning the back of your eyes -it had been so long, "Did they...?"

You knew very little about what she told them then, but you do know it had to do with the White Death. You knew they'd try and avenge you one day, it was just in their blood. You hoped they had peace now.

"A few people did," she clarified, "-remember the bullet train I talked about last week?"

"Yeah, you had Ladybug on that one, right?" you asked, you knew of the guy -never met him.

"The twins were there," she hummed, "-Turned out to be planned by him. He was going to kill them all by the end of the line."

"But they survived?" you asked.

"They did," she assured, before pausing for a moment, "-I'm here to ask you something."

You pursed your lips, something catching in your chest, "I can't see them, Maria-"

"That's not-" she started, before clearing her throat, "-I want to ask if you want back in."

"Into... work again?" You asked, curious.

"Yes," she said, laying it all out, "-We have a spot open, you'd be under me. We can start out with small jobs-"

"Isn't this what we planned? All that time ago?"

"We did," Maria confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "-but, you've been here so long. Your plans can change, you know. You could live a normal life."

You thought back to that conversation that late night with Tangerine. You had wanted it then. At the time, you didn't know who you wanted it with but now... you did. And that... that wasn't happening.

But going back to work, that was familiar, that felt normal. You'd be yourself again. You hadn't felt that way fully since that day, but you could achieve it now. Mostly.

"Okay," you responded, "-I'm in."

That is what brought you here in some office building for a drive under the name, Beetle. Well, you weren't alone. A couple of months ago, you'd been at a meeting of the agency -Maria had requested you come. You'd said something a little bit snappy and from the back, a guy with blonde hair, glasses, and a huge smile, had yelled, "I like this guy!"

That was your introduction to Ladybug, and he'd immediately requested to be your partner to Maria. He even threw in some 'pretty-please's, you'd laughed really hard that day -you hadn't in a long time. And with a little hope of some normalcy, you agreed.

Now this was pretty run of the mill, you'd worked with Ladybug to know most of his quirks -like forgetting literally everything as soon as you stepped into the building, and not wanting to kill people on Wednesdays ('My therapist says I need to start taking care of myself, this is me doing that, Beetle.').

"Listen," you turned to him, "-just keep the guy distracted, I will find the drive."

"Hey," he mumbled, eating some kind of finger food, "-Aren't we supposed to be a team? What was it that Maria said-"

"Ladybug," you sighed, he could really annoy you, "-firstly, you know she never says anything in your favor-" he nodded at that in agreement, "-secondly, do you even remember what you had for breakfast this morning?"

He paused, squinting his eyes.

"Exactly," you pointed out, "-so I will go find the drive, and you go... mingle."

"I don't wanna mingle," he nearly whined, "-I should've retired after the bullet train."

You froze for a moment, at the mention, before coming back down to earth, "You can do that after we do this, yeah?"

"Oh," he waved his hand with a grin, "-you know I could never leave you, Beetle."

You smiled then, "I know. Now, go, seriously-"

"Yeah, alright," he swatted you, "I'm going-"

With that, you slipped over to the elevator -squeezing past a few stray people and pressing the top floor. Luckily, it was some sort of company party, so every office was unattended. You, yourself, needed the top office, so out of respect for your knees -you'd decided to use the elevator.

You would later wildly regret this decision.

Around the fifth floor, it stopped. You fully prepped yourself for some stray office worker, probably holding a two-liter to bring downstairs and the awkward conversation that would ensue. Instead, it was much, much worse.

Because in front of that door stood Lemon, tips still bleached and dressed in a casual suit -the same kind he always used to wear. Your heart was in your throat, so you casually arranged your tie -trying not to let your voice come out squeaky.

"What floor?" You offered.

He didn't say a word, was just staring for a moment -brown eyes solid on you like he was reading you. You knew you looked different, and even sounded different but you still thought maybe-

"Seventh, thank you," he smiled, sauntering up to your side.

You smiled with a nod, and pressed the button.

The silence was unbearable, and you were certainly going to give Maria an earful when you got back because this. Was. Not. Supposed. To. Happen.

That was literally your one clause for this work-

"Do I know you?" Lemon asked, looking at you questioningly, "-I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. You're so familiar-"

Your tongue was quicker than your brain, "I'm Carl, Mr. Madison's assistant?"

He pursed his lips, like he was trying to believe it.

"I work on the third floor, mostly," you lied through your teeth -it was just keeping cover, "-maybe you saw me there?"

"Yeah," he settled, still eyeing you weirdly, "-probably."

The rest of the ride was silent, just before he stepped off, "Carl, if ya see an uptight guy in a suit with a mustache, tell 'im I'm on seventh, will ya?"

You instinctively nodded, and as the doors slipped shut -your brain started screaming. Of course, Tangerine was here. God, you could handle Lemon, but-

You pressed your com on, hissing out, "Maria-"

"Yeah, Beetle, what's going on? Everything okay?"

"The twins are here," you spoke -tone wavering, your breaths felt shallow like you weren't getting enough no matter how hard you tried.

"Oh shit."

"Wow," you came back to earth for a moment, "-that's the first time I've heard you lose your cool. Too bad I'm losing my mind-"

"Beetle, listen to me, okay? They don't know who you are. You look different, you sound different."

"I know," you let a breath out, "-I just. I never wanted to see them again. I don't... I don't deserve to."

"Beetle, we've talked about this."

"I know," you took a breath in, "-I know. It's just a lot."

"Is Ladybug there with you?"

"No," you spoke, like it was obvious, "-he can hardly remember his name sometimes, Maria-"

"I'll tell him there's an emergency. Send him up to you."

"But there isn't?" You countered, hand slipping up to run through your hair.

"If the twins are there for the same thing, there's about to be."

With that, you were on the top floor. You kept your eyes peeled -fancy shoes clopping along the tile. You'd always wanted a pair, but now you felt like a prick, honestly.

You figured if Tangerine was anywhere he was here, or shuffled into the party. That was if you had the same motivation.

Which was probably your best bet.

Somehow, you made it to the office in one piece. No peering blue eyes anywhere or accents melting into your ears, you were alone. Huh, maybe you were lucky.

You shuffled through some drawers, scattering paperwork and knocking a tin of paperclips over. It really didn't matter, the man would notice the USB gone anyway so no need for it to look like someone hadn't stolen it. With the drawers, you came up empty-handed.

You pursed your lips, before brushing your fingers along the top shelf of the bookshelf, maybe it was hidden? Nope.

You spun on your toes, before your eyes landed on the laptop. It was literally plugged into his laptop, out in the open.

"Idiots," you mumbled, before pocketing it with the slip of your hand.

Ready to go and fetch Ladybug, your job was done-

"Give me the fuckin' drive," his voice bounced around your head, and you very nearly cracked your neck spinning around to see him.

The first thing was the gun in your face, which was familiar, actually.

You raised your hands in surrender, instinctively muttering, "Jesus Christ."

He stalled for a minute when his eyes met your face like he was processing something -you thought out of anyone he would recognize you. The gun faltered in his hand as his eyebrows crept together into a furrow, confused.

You washed over him too, his hair was slightly longer and he was stronger -you could tell. His mustache was the same, and the suit too, just tighter. But along his neck, right at the collarbone was a nasty scar -it was new, fresh, you could tell. A couple of months at most.

"Look, I'm just Mr. Madison's assistant," you started, your voice shaking but it actually helped you here, "-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?" He countered, frustrated again, but there was still something skewed in his face, "-I saw you slip it in your pocket."

"Right," you swallowed, "-glass doors."

He leaned forward, the gun doing the same. And you heard the jingle of his necklace, the one he always wore -something from his childhood he said, but there was another sound, another noise. Before you could think any better, your eyes dipped to it.

The butterfly charm.

Your heart stalled in your chest.

He had the butterfly charm, your butterfly charm, around his neck. The silver was stark against the gold, so you really couldn't have missed it -how long has he been wearing that?

A sob trickled up the back of your throat, but you held it back -blinking away tears.

"Look," you echoed, voice heavy with wear -you wouldn't cry, not now, "-we can work this out."

"I said," he stepped forward, and you could smell his cologne -it was still the same, "-give me the fuckin' drive."

You didn't move.

"Do you want a fuckin' bullet in your head, love?" He asked, his face getting redder, but there was still something in his eyes -he was hesitating. He never hesitates.

Not... not at work. He pulls the trigger and is done but he's hesitating-

Your heart pounding in your chest, you stood your ground -digging your heels in, "Shoot me. You can take it off my corpse, just shoot me."

Tangerine frowned, something in his face flickering between your eyes -you knew he saw you, but you didn't know how he did. Did he think it was just a coincidence? Did he know? Did he think he was hallucinating?

He opened his mouth, but before he could say a word -Lemon walked in with a gun pressed to his temple. Your eyes caught on Ladybug's and he visibly seemed to relax at the sight of you breathing.

"For old times sake," he spoke, "-you give me my guy, I give you yours."

"You almost fuckin' killed me," Tangerine seethed through his teeth, "-why should I 'ave any leniency?"

Oh, you thought, that scar was from Ladybug?

"He's got a point 'ere," Lemon replied, rather plainly. You wanted to laugh.

Ladybug paused, "I said I was sorry, I thought we were past that, guys! We killed the White Death together, remember?"

Both of them froze, tense and lips twitching. Was that... Was that because of you?

"Oh, right, sorry," Ladybug recanted, "-sensitive subject."

It was. Something in your chest panged, you'd never thought you'd see it firsthand. You never wanted to-

You stopped the train of thought, hissing to Ladybug, "You are not helping here, you know that?"

"I'm trying my best," he practically whined back, "-you try reasoning with these guys! It's like talking to two brick walls-"

"Ladybug," you chastised.

"Right, sorry," he repeated.

You sighed, leveling to look at them, "Look, I'll give you guys the drive, okay? Just let us go. I'll get him out of here."

Tangerine softened just a smidge -blue eyes matching yours, you may have looked different but your eyes stayed the same. You knew that, and you hoped somewhere in him, he recognized them or they reminded him or anything-

Because if they didn't, you weren't making it out of here alive.

Wordlessly, Tangerine put his gun down and held out his hand. So he did see it.

Ladybug's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, he was clearly not expecting him to relent. But then again, you weren't either.

You pulled it from your pocket, dropping it into his open hand -careful not to touch him, you couldn't do that to yourself.

"Ladybug," you spoke, motioning for him to follow, "-Let's go. We'll tell Maria on the way."

He did as such, giving the gun back to Lemon, and slowly following you out of the door -back turned to the outside, keeping watch.

"Did you-" Tangerine interrupted, stalling the two of you in your path -your heartbeat quickened in your chest, as he turned to look at you, only you, "-Did you know Butterfly?"

"Everyone knows Butterfly," Ladybug responded, "-she's a legend, even for our agency."

He didn't react to his response, only solidly looking at you, Lemon too. You felt like every move you made was outing you, revealing you. That they would realize and hate you and never understand-

"I never knew her personally," you answered, swallowing, "-Just... Just stories."

And with that, you spun on your heel and walked out the door -Ladybug following dutifully behind. You felt their eyes on you every step until you turned back around in the elevator.

You didn't do a job for quite awhile after that. Ladybug, following your lead, took a break too -said something about meditating. You didn't listen, you couldn't.

All you could see was that charm hanging on his necklace -right next to his heart. Did Lemon have your knife? Did they split them?

The next few months were boring, Maria kept calling you and you kept telling her you were okay, you just needed some time. She even sent Ladybug on you a couple of times, but even he could tell you weren't at your best. He just kept recommending things his therapist said, you appreciated it, really, even though it didn't help at all.

When you finally got back to work, Maria sent you as a solo -Ladybug was something you had to limit after a while. All you had to do was get a package before it was delivered, simple.

You didn't know why god seemed to hate you.

You were posed as a delivery truck driver, you even had the truck, the outfit, and the lift. It was something you genuinely enjoyed and everything should've gone perfectly.

It should have been as easy as walking in and walking back out.

That was not the case.

You arrived at the hotel lobby, dressed in the uniform and smiling at the front desk. Politely asking for the boxes you needed, something about office supplies or pillows or something. The hotel had too much of it. All you had to do, was get the package and sneak it in with the others.

"Can I run to your bathroom?" You asked with a smile -you had to get out of the lobby somehow.

"Of course," she smiled, bright and beautiful, "-There's one down that hallway and to the right."

You followed those directions, and then decisively took off into the bathroom -despite it not being a part of the plan. Somewhere in the back of your head, you noted that someone was definitely following you. It was a shadow in the back of your eye, but you still saw it.

So when the door opened behind you, you raised your fist and-

Stopped.

Tangerine stood there, eyes wide as your fist was mere inches from his face. He was wearing a coat, maybe like a trenchcoat, that was brown and gave his whole outfit something entirely different.

"What the hell?" You hissed out, lowering your fist, "-What are you doing here? Following me?"

Tangerine seemed to pause for a moment, before wiping his hand over his mouth, "I'm stayin' 'ere, saw ya out in the lobby. This isn't... It's not a job. I'm not 'ere to... to hurt you."

"Did you just want to say hi?!" You asked, sarcastically -this could not be happening again, "-Last time I saw you, you had a gun pointed at my head. Forgive me for being afraid."

He licked his lips, and you noticed it then, something was very off. He wasn't angry, no, he looked exhausted like he hadn't slept in days; his eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying. Had he been crying?

"Um," you started, trying to act normal, "-is everything okay...?"

"Tangerine," he finished for you.

"Beetle," you offered in response, before repeating, "-Seriously, is everything okay? Should I call your... your partner?"

"You knew 'er," he interrupted, voice worn.

"Knew who?" You questioned, squeezing your nails into your palm -you knew where this was going.

"Butterfly," he clarified, "-you fuckin' knew 'er, you had to."

"Look, Tangerine," you replied, "-I already told you-"

He interrupted you again, quietly letting out a wet sort of chuckle, "You even say it like 'er."

"Say what?"

"My name," he bit at his lip, gnawing at it, really, "-you say it the exact same way, and I... I fuckin' remember that, so you knew 'er."

You were speechless for a moment, before settling yourself -trying to stay away from this, "Do... Do you need to talk for a minute? Or?"

"Are you 'er brother?" He asked, something heavy in his gaze, "-It's the only solution I can think of, and it's drivin' me fuckin' mad. I have to know-"

"Why would I say I don't know her if I'm her brother?"

"I don't fuckin' know," he breathed out, hands running through his hair, "-are you afraid of the White Death? What he... he did to 'er? He's dead, very dead. You can say you know 'er-"

"But, I don't," you offered, a little weaker.

"You do," he replied simply, "-you fuckin' 'ave to, you look just like 'er. You can't- I can't... Just tell me the truth."

"I'm not her brother," you repeated, it was the only thing you could say.

"Did she ever say anythin' about me? About... About Lemon?" He continued, his voice scratchy and eyes blinking so fast you knew he was holding back tears -your stomach churned.

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-I don't know what to-"

He interrupted you again, hand pulling on his necklace, the charm, "'s hers, you were starin' at it the other day. 'Was her bracelet, but I think ya know 'at."

"Look," you swallowed, heavily, "-I can't do this now, I'm on a job. We can talk later, though, if you need to."

You ended up finding the box in ten minutes and leaving without another word.

By the time, you were ready for missions again -you were half convinced you wanted to just go back to the cabin, and live your life there. Away from mustaches and feelings and fear, you could enjoy yourself -listen to birds, observe nature, even.

Maria even offered it, after the last trip, she'd smiled at you in the solemn way she did and offered you the home back, the life back.

You thoroughly debated it for a few days but wanted to feel like yourself again and this was the closest you'd get, ever.

You loved him, and this was the closest thing you'd get to him. It was all you had.

Even if he did love you, you were... different now and you couldn't imagine that would be okay with him. You didn't let yourself.

The next time you saw the twins, you decided to embrace it -try and be as close as you could. If they figured it out and left you in the dust, so be it. You wanted them in your life.

It was another solo mission, Ladybug was in one of those 'I'm going to quit and move to Costa Rico' phases of his career and you didn't exactly want to cozy up with anybody else.

Maria understood, and sent you alone.

It was a hit, some guy with a big life insurance policy -his wife hired you, apparently. He was a loner, and didn't go much of anywhere, so you were to stage a robbery and simply kill him in the kerfuffle. Or, at least make it look like that.

The job was so easy that you'd taken to the city afterward -you wanted to live a normal life for a minute, and after it all, you ended up in a bar. A sort of quiet one with a wooden bar and dim lights -the only people in there being men watching football games, and even they did say much of a word.

It was calm, peaceful.

You heard the door jingle, you knew the sound but assumed it was a normal person -sipping on your drink in your booth alone, away from prying eyes. You didn't exactly want any company, not really, but you ended up with some.

The steps of fancy shoes, it was ingrained in your brain, only getting louder -you thought maybe someone was going to sit close to you. Until they abruptly stopped at your side, you promptly turned your head -eyes peering over your drink.

Tangerine stood there in much better shape, blue eyes focused gently onto you (not red and puffy) and hair perfectly gelled back. He was wearing the blue suit that matched his eyes really well -you'd told him it was his best one once.

"Tangerine," you hummed, sipping your drink, "-weird seeing you here."

He paused, eyes flicking over you for a moment -maybe taking in your outfit, just the same as you did. Before muttering out, "'Ere's a safe house nearby, me and Lemon are stayin' 'ere."

You knew that one, the three of you stayed there a couple of times but then again, where hadn't the three of you stayed?

You pondered over that for a moment, before speaking, "You can sit down, you know, I won't bite."

He seemed to tense up.

"Unless you do," you clarified with a bit of a smile, "-in which I retract my statement."

His lips quirked for a second, as he slid into the booth across from you, "'M off the clock."

"Ah," you nodded your head, "-lucky for you, me too."

"Lucky for me?" He asked, it all seemed so natural -you knew he'd ask questions about it later.

"I'm a good fight," you shrugged, "-what can I say?"

"I imagine," he laughed, and something in your chest swirled -you missed that.

He sat in silence for a moment, tapping his fingers against the table, as you messed with the napkin you had. It wasn't uncomfortable, not really, (you didn't think it would ever be) but there was still something hanging over the two of you.

"Look," he said, suddenly, "-about the other day. I'm sorry, I was... I was in a really bad fuckin' place. Just brought up some memories... I didn't mean to-"

"Relax, Tangerine," you sighed, something bubbling up your throat, "-I know what it feels like when you've seen a ghost."

Something in you twisted, tired, and thinking you were lying. God, you were lying to him. But you couldn't chance losing him again, you didn't want him to hate you. Force himself out of your life, his choice.

Not yours. It was selfish, you knew that much.

"They treat ya well?" He asked, and you tilted your head, "-Your agency? I had a friend... switched over, so..."

"Very well," you hummed, "-My handler is... she understands my breaks."

"You had a break?"

"Long time ago," you spoke, vaguely -you couldn't be specific, "-stayed in a cabin, lived normal for awhile."

He leaned back into the booth, something in him curious, you could see it, "How was it?"

"Boring," you decided.

"Yeah," he murmured, "-always thought it fuckin' would be."

You took a leap then, even if the answer would hurt. You wanted to know.

"You ever thought about it?"

"Bein' normal?" He clarified -eyes smooth over your face.

You nodded, finishing your drink -he seemed to notice, and you half thought he'd offer you to get another.

"Yeah," he breathed out -not matching your eyes now, something heavy on his shoulders, "-once a long fuckin' time ago. But... things change."

You wondered if it was because of you -that one night. If he wanted that with you-

He wouldn't anymore, your mind chimed -stinging under your skin, you are different. So is he.

Timing would never be right, it made your lips snap shut anytime you thought of telling him. The idea that he had loved you then, and now... now he wouldn't. That was worse than him hating you for life, just not... just not loving you anymore.

You swallowed, thick -you wanted to know more, but you couldn't just say that, "That they do."

He paused for a moment, before sliding out of the booth, "I 've to go, Lemon's waitin' on me."

You nodded your head, toying with your glass -eyes slinking across the rim, something in you disappointed. Something in you wanted him to stay, but that wasn't going to happen. You couldn't have him.

Not now.

"Beetle," he spoke, slow and measured, "-'S nice talkin' to ya. Maybe we can catch up again when we aren't at each other's fuckin' throats, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, the tips of your mouth turning up just a little, "-I'd be alright with that."

You started seeing Tangerine every once in a while, strange little cafés and dimly lit bars. You didn't know how he always ended up in the area with you or close by, but it felt familiar. Like when the two of them would follow you into jobs, even when you said you'd be fine because they wanted you to be okay. Just in case. You supposed now that they actually had something to worry about.

That led you to now, you laid on the tile of a building -head pounding and the lights blinding. You had successfully cleared it and killed your hit, but someone had snuck up on you -gun drawn, they took a cheap shot.

"Maria," you breathed out, "-Maria, come in."

"Beetle? Everything alright?"

"They got a cheap shot in-" you hummed, "-I think in my chest? It hurts to breathe-"

"Okay, alright. I'll see who's around you, okay?"

"I think I can walk-"

"Don't move, keep your hands on the wound. What floor are you on?"

"Second," you faltered out a breath -a sting in your lungs, even still you shifted putting all your weight on your hands, "-shit, never get used to that."

"Never will."

You laughed, leaning your head back down against the tile -it was cold against your skin. You felt like you were burning alive, so it was actually a little refreshing.

The lights above you hurt your eyes, but it was easier to breathe this way. Inhale, exhale -a sting, inhale, exhale -a sting.

You imagined for a second this was years ago, that you were actually dying then. The twins would come rushing in, burst through the doors, and Lemon would be darting all over you -trying to figure it out. And Tangerine... Tangerine would grab your face and keep you awake -soft words but every once in a while shaking you to keep you awake. You wouldn't have been able to die then, not with them there -trying to help. You supposed you could die now, bleed out on a tile floor alone or with someone you didn't even know.

This dream of it being Tangerine and Lemon, that was something you could live for -you could almost see it in your head.

And then you heard it, a door busting open and fancy shoes clattering down the hallway -like yours that made you feel like a prick. You wondered if you got the idea of them from Tangerine, he surely owned so many pairs-

"Shit," there was a voice then, and your eyes snapped to the source.

Oh, I'm definitely hallucinating.

Tangerine stood over you before falling to his knees, mumbling -frustrated, "I just fuckin' knew it was you."

"Am I..." you spoke, breathlessly, "-Am I hallucinating?"

"What do you think I am? A fuckin' angel?" Something in your mind answered yes, "-Hate to break it to you, love, but it's just me."

"How the hell were you around here?"

"A job," he said, a little too quickly -it was suspicious.

"Lying-" you slurred out, "-I can tell you're lying."

Tangerine didn't say anything in response, ignoring it, "'S your chest, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, "-where I'm holding."

"Alright," he breathed out, "-alright. Don't stop holdin' it, okay? Keep your hand 'ere."

"How am I gonna move?"

He rolled his eyes, "Can't give me an inch of fuckin' trust, can ya?"

"Sure, I can," you breathed out, flinching slightly, "-just tell me your plan."

He let out a chuckle, before without warning -slipping his arms under your knees and back. The movement jostled you a little and it hurt -you hissed out.

"Sorry, love," he echoed out, softer than you expected, "-'s the only way to get ya out of 'ere."

"I know," you exhaled, "-I know. Keep going."

It felt like you hadn't even blinked before he was pattering out of the building -he was going so fast. Your head was spinning now, but you were still conscious.

"Shit," you heard Lemon, as Tangerine slipped you into the backseat, laying you across the seats -head first, "-a bullet?"

"Fucking cheap shot," you breathed out, "-Killed a whole building full of people and some asshole came up behind me and shot me-"

Lemon seemed to laugh slightly at your frustration; it made you feel a little lighter.

Tangerine shut the door and you waited for him to slip into the passenger seat. You were getting tired, you just wanted to bandage it up and go to whatever hotel was open.

Instead, Tangerine slipped into the side with your head -carefully lifting it and setting you back down onto his lap. You froze -his cologne surrounding your head so much it made you woozy. Why had he done that?

"Stay awake, yeah?" He spoke, breaths raggedy -he really must've been going fast, "Beetle, do you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," you swallowed, the smooth cushion of his suit pants was tempting, but the situation you currently were in kept you awake. Your heart was pounding, your brain spinning, you were so close.

You'd been closer, but that was over 4 years ago. Even further when his hands made their way to your face and hair -trying to keep you awake. It worked very, very well.

Had he ever held your face before?

Something in you said no, but it could've happened. You were also so close and any time you got injured he'd always wanted to see it for himself. He usually refused to leave until he took care of it himself, with gentle hands. Whose to say you hadn't gotten a cut on your face?

Why did it feel so different now?

You looked up at him, just for a spare second -you saw his hand run through his hair, unveiling the curls by the second. You'd always liked his curls, when he'd shown you his natural hair -it was all soft and bouncy. It wasn't good for his image, you totally understood.

He's nervous, your mind chimed, does he care about you like this too?

You slapped away the thought and decidedly started staring up at the plush ceiling -this car was definitely expensive, you knew that much. The cushion on the seats, the detailing, the roof, the speed-

This thing had to be stolen.

"Ya alright, love?"

You swallowed and met his eyes, big blue blinking down at you and you could see it, the concern. Since when was he concerned for you? This you? Something had changed at some point and you didn't even notice.

"I've been shot," you retorted, obviously, "-I'm currently bleeding out on your fancy seats."

"That's not-" he huffed out, pinching the bridge of his nose -you couldn't hold back the grin on your lips.

Lemon laughed from the front, "'Give 'im a real run for his money, you know 'at, Beetle?"

"I try my best."

Lemon laughed again, and something in your chest felt lighter -you had missed them, so much. All those years at that fucking cabin, you had missed out on them, on knowing them, watching them, being with them.

God, you regretted everything then, but it was for the best. It kept them safe.

"Seriously," his voice was lower now but still so pointed, "-are you alright?"

You blinked away the fog of tears in your eyes, not now, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright."

The ride was short after that, it was wordless. Even though you think Tangerine wanted to say more, he didn't pry. Which you thought was very strange because he's Tangerine (he prods and pokes until you're set on murdering him) but you were literally bleeding out, so maybe it was courtesy.

You didn't have the heart to think it was anything else.

The twins brought you up the stairs, each taking a shoulder, and although it wasn't as dizzying as before when Tangerine had physically held you... It still was overwhelming.

These guys were like your family. You hadn't been this close to them in years.

"Alright, I'm assumin' you got the wounds?" Lemon asked, directed at Tangerine.

With a succinct nod, Lemon spun back around in the doorway -talking as he walked out, "'M off to get some food, don't bite each other's heads off, yeah? I'd hate to clean up the mess, personally-"

And then he was gone. You were currently sitting on a stool, hand still pressed intently into your chest, as Tangerine gathered up what medical supplies they had. Which was a lot, actually.

You spoke before you could think about it, "You know I can do this myself, right?"

"God, you've got quite the fuckin' head, don't ya?"

"You're one to talk," you replied.

Tangerine pursed his lips, in a way you could tell he was hiding a smile, before his eyes drifted to the ground for a moment. He didn't respond immediately, thinking on it.

And even when he brought everything onto the counter, he didn't say anything. It wasn't until he stood in front of you, nearly in between your legs as you sat on the stool.

"Just let me help you, yeah?"

Your eyes flickered over him, trying to read him but all you could get was -please. Almost like a desperation to help you, like he'd wanted to do this not just offering it-

"Yeah, okay," you responded softly.

"Shirt off," he quickly spoke -right to business, reaching over to the counter to grab what he needed.

You swallowed, you still weren't used to that. Taking your shirt off in front of people, off the top of your head you couldn't think of anyone who had seen your scars. Your top surgery scars. They were very obvious, right in the middle of your chest, and unavoidable. Did you want him to see them?

"Can't I just..." you started, "-unbutton the bottom?"

Tangerine turned back to you then, furrowing his eyebrows, "The gunshots in the middle of your chest, love, it'd be fuckin' half on anyway. Just take it off."

You frowned.

"No judgment here," he put his hands in the air, "-I couldn't care fuckin' less what your chest looks like, personally."

You licked your teeth and swallowed, before unbuttoning the dress shirt, slowly, but keeping it solidly on your shoulders. Kind of like how the men in cologne ads looked, with their opened-up shirts and the epitome of masculinity-

He didn't say a word, but you saw his eyes flicker over them -almost like he was noting it in his head before he switched his attention to the wound. He promptly dabbed it with an alcohol soaked cotton ball, and you nearly bit through your lip.

"Warn a guy, will you?"

Tangerine didn't even look up, "If that hurt, you're gonna have a fuckin' problem later, love."

"I've been stitched up before," you clarified, "-I'm not a newbie."

"Might as well be, yeah?" He hummed, tossing the cotton ball in the trash -flawlessly making it in (how does he even exist?), "-With your break."

"How do you know it was a long one?"

"I've never fuckin' heard of you," Tangerine explained, "-Ladybug's never heard of you and you're a part of his agency-" he dabbed another one over your wound, "-Must've been a long break."

He had a good point.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" You asked, quirking a brow, "-Plus, there are other agencies, how do you know I didn't come from one of them?"

"You're too good to 'ave," he replied, simply.

You fell silent, something stirring in your stomach -was that the first time he'd ever complimented you? Beetle you? Huh.

"Wow," you hummed, "-you can be nice. Who knew?"

"You're soundin' like fuckin' Lemon now," he groaned, before taking the needle from the counter.

"Lemon's smart then," you diverted your eyes -never could stand looking at being stitched up.

Tangerine rolled his eyes, and you looked back up to the ceiling -a smile ghosting onto your lips. Not that you'd ever let him see.

It went fairly smoothly, his hands made quick work of it and even quicker with the wound on your back (the bullet had gone right through your chest, luckily not hitting anything). Nothing happened, you were worried about nothing. He was Tangerine-

Just as you had started buttoning your shirt back up (you started from the bottom to the top), Tangerine froze.

Without a word, he walked closer to you -tilting your chin up with the ease of a finger and looking under it on your chest. You froze, his skin on yours was still something you couldn't deal with.

"Where'd you get 'at one?"

Fuck.

You knew what he was talking about immediately. It was a scar, just above your heart. You'd been stabbed on the job, and Lemon had fucked up your stitches so it had healed weird -came out curved somehow.

And then Tangerine was so paranoid that you showed him because he needed to know you were okay -it was so close to your heart.

"You almost fuckin' died, Butterfly. One inch down and..."

It was a one-of-a-kind scar. At the time, it didn't matter but now? You knew Tangerine could recognize that scar anywhere.

"Tangerine," you spoke out, measured. You tried to keep your voice calm, maybe you could save this-

He stepped back, eyes making contact with yours -they darted between them for a moment and then back to the scar, and then to your top surgery scars. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and everything in your body was screaming-

"Tangerine, listen-"

That was enough, something in him stiffened and he grabbed his coat off the back of the couch.

"Tangerine," you echoed out, but you knew it was no use now.

He didn't say a word, slipping it on and with the fastest steps you'd ever seen in your life, he disappeared out the door and slammed it shut.

The walls shook after.

You swallowed dryly, tears pricking at your eyes -this was never supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen-

Your hand was on your com before you could even think about it, breaths shuddering out of your chest -sobs breaking in the back of your throat. You tried to stop it, hold it all back-

"Beetle? Hello? I see your com is on, everything alright?"

"They know," you whispered, nearly silent -tears streaming down your face.

"Who knows what?"

"The twins, they were... they were the ones nearby," you started, and your voice cracked, "-Tangerine offered to stitch me up and I have a scar-"

"Beetle, slow down. I can't understand you."

"They know who I am, Maria," you breathed out, tears catching in your throat, "-Tangerine knows and he's going to tell Lemon, and I don't know what the hell to do-"

"Beetle, breathe."

"He left," you echoed out, and you were crying -god it had been so long since you cried, "-he left, Maria. He didn't even say anything-"

"It's a lot to take in. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He's gone," you swallowed, "-I know it, Maria."

"You know him. Do you really think he's gone?"

You thought back to the pendant on his necklace -the butterfly, your butterfly.

"I don't..." you started, "-I don't know."

"Just wait, if nobody comes back... Give me a call, alright? I'll send a car your way."

So, you did.

You waited, buttoned your shirt back up, tried to wash the stain, and waited. You ended up flicking through TV shows, and smushed into the couch, waiting. Even thought about ordering your own food, but a part of you wanted to be sure that Lemon wasn't coming back.

After about two hours of waiting, you swallowed down the tears -eyes all red and puffy, and started gathering up your stuff. You accepted it now, you'd never see them again.

It was your decision, you would regret it for as long as you lived. Something in your chest heavy and exhausted, you readied yourself to call Maria back.

Just as your finger was about to touch the com, there was a jingle of some keys outside the door. You froze in place, slipping on one of your shoes without another thought -ready to leave. You knew he'd ask you.

The door slowly opened, and Tangerine peered inside -he looked worse for wear and you think if you focused hard enough you could see blood on his knuckles. You wouldn't ask, not now.

His blue eyes flicked over you, to your shoes and your coat all gathered up on your arms, he gnawed at his lip for a moment.

"Where the fuck are you goin'?

It was all harsh edges and sharp points, it made you bring up your own barriers.

"I'm leaving," you answered, straightening your posture and putting on your other shoe.

Tangerine didn't move for a moment, as you slowly made your way to the door -footsteps echoing in the heaviest silence you'd ever experienced in your life.

Just before you got there, Tangerine stepped in front of the door -something in his eyes heavy.

"Tangerine," you sighed, "-let me go."

"No," he answered simply, eyes meeting yours and you saw now, they were red and puffy too, "-hell no."

"Look, I really don't want to-" you started before briefly rubbing your temples, "-you want me to leave, just let me leave."

"Who the fuck said 'at?"

You tilted your head.

"Why would I want you to leave?" He furrowed his eyebrows, still angry, "-You... I just got you back, why the fuck would I want you to leave?"

"I lied to you, Tan," you breathed out, and something caught in your throat, "-I lied to you for years."

"You're fuckin' alive-" Tangerine exhaled, chuckling a little in disbelief, "-I have so many questions, yeah? That is far, so fuckin' far, from wantin' you to leave."

"Tangerine," you spoke, voice shaky, you just wanted to go. It would be so much easier if you just left-

He paused for a second, "Are you fuckin' listenin' to me?"

"I am," you replied, tears rising to the backs of your eyes, "-I just can't..."

"Love," he grabbed your wrist, something softer, gentler, "-Love, look at me, please."

You swallowed your tears and with a big breath, you looked at him. His eyes were always so very blue, but something about them then was vulnerable. Broken wide open, Tangerine sat in front of you.

"I want ya to stay, yeah?" He breathed out, wiping over his mouth, "-I want you to stay."

You pursed your lips, trying so hard not to cry -you shouldn't be the one crying, "Okay."

"Now," he sighed out, a little lighter, "-fuckin' sit down, you shouldn't aggravate the wound."

You wordlessly sat down on the far edge of the couch, closest to the door. Your hands were shaking, so you laid them flat on your lap -trying to calm down.

He wants you to stay.

"You said-" he started, his voice getting caught up in his mouth, "-You said you were in a cabin, yeah? Where?"

You opened your mouth, confused, "Why does that matter? You have... I lied to you for years and that’s your first question?"

He was standing up, pacing, and then suddenly stopped. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment blinking.

"You know, when they told us you were... dead," he echoed out -something caught in his throat, "-they didn't have a body? All we had was-"

His hand went to his necklace putting the pendant in between his fingers, "All we had was your things, there was no fuckin' body-"

"What does this have to do with-"

"I looked for you," he finally said, "-everywhere I went for a job, I fuckin' looked for you. Because if there wasn't a body, you could still be-"

He fell silent, for a moment -swallowing, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't believe it, "...alive."

"So," he continued, clearing his throat, "-I want to know where the fuck you were. 'At fair?"

Your mouth snapped shut - he looked for you? For how long? That wasn't important now though.

"Alaska," you answered, wiping at your eyes, "-small town, in the middle of nowhere. I had... I had an alias."

"Fuckin' Alaska," he muttered, under his breath.

"It was cold all the time," you added -a bit awkwardly, "-snowed nearly everyday."

Tangerine scanned over your face, maybe like he was trying to imagine you there, alone in the cabin. Or maybe, you out in the snow.

"That day..." he started slow, "-did you fight it? When you were told what you... what you had to do, did you fight it?"

"What are you asking?"

"Did you even think about telling us? Or, or-" he swallowed and his voice was husky and his eyes were bleary, "-coming back to us?"

"Tangerine," you echoed out, emotionless -trying to reign it in, "-I didn't have a choice. You know that."

"I know," he agreed, "-but did you fuckin' try?"

"You think-" you exhaled out, tears gathering in your eyes now, "-You think I didn't try to say goodbye? That I didn't beg Maria to change her mind? That I didn't tell her you guys would keep the secret-"

"Beetle-"

"-just so I could stay?"

"Beetle, I didn't..."

"I did," you swallowed, "-I did beg. It didn't work. If I... If you would've known, we both would've been in too much danger. I couldn't risk it."

"The White Death, yeah?" He clarified, and he was closer to you then he was before. His fingers kept twitching like he wanted to do something.

"He was after me," you hummed, "-knew where I was, where you were, where Lemon was."

"I just-" he started, "-I don't fuckin' get why... after you- After the White Death was killed, why didn't you- why didn't you come back? Tell us?"

"It's... complicated."

"Why?" he stressed out, "Why was it complicated? You were alive, and I don't know about Lemon, but, personally, I would've loved to fuckin' know 'at."

"Tangerine," you started, "-I'm different now, and you guys... you grieved me. How was I supposed to come back from that?"

"I don't give a flyin' fuck 'at you're a man," he interrupted, "-I just wish you would've felt comfortable enough to tell me- tell us earlier."

"Tangerine," you could feel the tears in your eyes.

"And we grieved you, yeah, but-" he explained, messing with his hands for a moment, "-knowing you're alive? That you were fuckin' breathin'? The grieving... It wouldn't 'ave fuckin' mattered, love."

"It would have," you stopped him, "-you thought I was dead-"

"Love," he suddenly sat by your side, gently holding your wrists in place, "-listen to me for once, yeah?"

You nodded, wordlessly, tears slipping down your face, this was guilt you were holding onto for years.

Without hesitating, Tangerine gently started swiping them away with his thumbs, "I thought I was in a world without fuckin' you. Lovely, annoying, beautiful fuckin' you."

You opened your mouth, but he merely continued.

"I couldn't imagine my life without ya in it, and then suddenly it was the fuckin' life I was livin'," he sighed out, eyes matching yours and hands cradling your jaw, "-you being alive changes fuckin' everythin'."

"Why?" You offered, eyes scattering between his -looking for an answer.

He paused for a moment, before dropping his hands, pushing his hair back for a moment, and swallowing. It was like he was readying himself.

"Lemon used to tell me that I was stupid," he finally said.

"Doesn't he always?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

He smiled a little bit, before grabbing one of your hands with his and fidgeting with your fingers -kind of like he just needed to be close to you, "Right, yeah. But this... He told me 'at one day I would regret not tellin' you."

"Telling me what?"

"When you... when you died, I realized the idiot was fuckin' right," he hummed out, a sob catching in his throat but he just kept talking, "-and then, I met a fuckin' self-righteous bloke who had the nerve to dare me to shoot 'im. Looked me right in the eyes."

"Tangerine-"

"And then the guy kept showin' up, and I kept seein' 'im and it was the always same back and forth," he continued, tracing along the creases of your palm, "-but at some point I started thinkin' that I wouldn't shoot 'im, even if he asked."

You laughed.

A smile flickered across his face at the noise, but he kept his eyes downward, "And then, I see 'im bloody and hurtin'. And I think back to the first time, when I didn't say it and if now I wasn't gonna be fuckin' able to-"

You raised an eyebrow.

"And then they dared to be the same fuckin' person."

"Tangerine," you asked, "-what the hell are you talking about?"

It was then that he finally looked up, and then you realized how close his face was to yours. You feel the puffs of his breath against your skin, and it made your head fuzzy. Your thoughts became blurry and all you could see was him-

Tangerine. Tangerine. Tangerine-

"I really don't give a fuck 'at you're a man," he repeated, blue eyes laser focused on yours.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell does that-"

His eyes dipped down to your lips.

Oh.

"Really?"

"Not a flyin' fuck," he echoed out.

You smiled, before letting your own eyes drift -just for a second. It was like a confirmation, a consent.

Before you could say another word, his hands reached up to grab your face and bring your lips to his. It was all force, desperate, like you were oxygen and he just wanted to breathe-

But somehow still gentle, holding you -fingers rubbing along your face like he was reminding himself you were there. That you were alive. That you were sitting there beside him breathing. It made sense now, all of it.

The grieving didn't matter because you were alive.

He finally separated, keeping his forehead on yours for a split second -staring into your eyes and huffing out breaths.

He kept you there, until it felt like you couldn't breathe -he stole all of it away.

When there was a knock on the door.

Then, there was another knock.

He groaned, throwing his head back -decidedly not letting you go.

"What do you fuckin' want, Lemon?"

"No way to treat someone who got you food," he chastised, "-you 'ave the keys, let me in."

"Come back in ten minutes," Tangerine answered -eyes solidly on yours, you felt frozen in your seat.

"The food's gonna get cold, mate," Lemon retorted, "-don't ya want it warm? I worked hard to get it, ya know? The closest restaurant was like a fuckin' block away-"

"Ten minutes," Tangerine repeated.

"I'm not fuckin' leaving," Lemon started again, "-it's cold out 'ere. You gonna leave your brother out in the fuckin' cold-"

"Fuckin' go, Lemon," Tangerine groaned out.

"Fine," he breathed out, "-keep snoggin', but don't fuckin' complain if I eat some of your food."

Yeah, you really missed this.

"We won't," you chimed in with a smile.

Tangerine smiled at you like you held the sun.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #tangerine #tangerine bt oneshot #he/him reader #trans male! reader

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

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🍊's masterlist ||

ONESHOTS 📖:

borrow some sugar || gn!reader

'You were living in the city, on your own. It was your dream though, you'd known it was far from home but you needed the space. Well, wanted the space. Didn't mean it wasn't lonely. The one time you actually met your neighbor, of course, you put your literal whole life in danger.'

bun in the oven || afab!reader

'The two lines were haunting you. Of course, it was after a month's trip -when you hadn't seen him in so long. So, you spent an insane amount of time thinking just how he'd react and if your world would come crashing down as soon as he'd heard the words. You were totally fine. Totally.'

find yourself (and me) || trans male!reader

'You knew Tangerine well, you'd fallen in love with the guy. But when a mission goes wrong and you fake your death, he can't know a word of it. And when you finally transition after years of wishing, you can hardly even imagine running into him again. If you thought you might, you'd run the opposite way. But fate had different plans.'

PART TWO

guard dog || gn!reader

'Lemon has been trying to get you to see it for years. His brother was into you, so much it physically hurt to watch. That's what he said anyway. You were skeptical, to say the least. The fact that everyone who had ever hurt you, or even just threatened to, was dead though, was indisputable.'

saying something stupid (like I love you) || gn!reader

'With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.'

Temporary Fix || gn!reader

'You and Tangerine weren't complicated, sometimes you'd see him on the job and he'd provide you... stress relief. It was easy, so easy. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, just friends (barely acquaintances really) doing what you both needed. It wasn't like you could have someone on the job anyway. You didn't think it was anything that would change. But, he had never seen you hurt before, and when a job goes wrong, well... everything changes.'

SERIES 📚:

at your service || gn!reader

'You knew your father was in a dangerous line of work. So, when he got you a personal, handsome, butler, you knew better.'

coming soon...

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #tan's masterlist #masterlist #oneshots #series #tangerine #tangerine bt oneshot

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

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Temporary Fix || Tangerine x gn!reader

Summary: You and Tangerine weren't complicated, sometimes you'd see him on the job and he'd provide you... stress relief. It was easy, so easy. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, just friends (barely acquaintances really) doing what you both needed. It wasn't like you could have someone on the job anyway. You didn't think it was anything that would change. But, he had never seen you hurt before, and when a job goes wrong, well... everything changes.

TW: friends with benefits (for now), mentioned sex (but nothing graphic), protective! Tangerine, possessive!Tangerine, violence, blood, murder, guns, gunshot wounds, mentioned death, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: yes this is a one direction title, what about it??? also the reader's codename is 'Mouse', you work with Ladybug. Tan calls you pretty but who doesn't to be called pretty?? This is got really long, sorry !!!]]

You were pretty good at your job, your messes weren't messy and your kills were organized, clean really. (Your agency did have a cleanup crew for when things got out of hand, so your work still stayed pristine even when it did get messy.) That's how you got your code name, Mouse, because you were in and out of a location as quiet 'as a mouse'.

You're not sure when you met the twins, but you do remember it was bloody. Something about you showing up to your gig and a trail of blood led you through the building right into their presence. You'd somehow known it was the twins (kind of because of the mess) but otherwise because there was two of them -stuck like glue.

The barrel of two guns pointed at your head, and you shared your mission, and they theirs, which were actually totally unrelated. Needless to say, you got out of there with your USB drive. (Mostly because of Lemon, Tangerine wouldn't have flinched if he pulled the trigger.)

It just kept happening. Undercover missions, hits, and even work you had to travel to, somehow they ended up in the same place. Not always for the same work, you should say, but same destination. You'd originally thought it was some sort of coo, that they were trailing you but after confronting them (and Tangerine saying he didn't 'give a fuck about your whereabouts'), the idea was void.

The first time your... situation had started was one of your missions where you went undercover. Some sort of fancy charity gala, if you remember correctly, and Tangerine was there. Just Tangerine, he didn't tell you why -he hardly even wanted to speak to you.

You'd offhandedly said something about all the rich people being attractive, and how it wasn't fair. He'd promptly said, "You don't have to worry about bein' attractive, love, you're the prettiest one here."

He wasn't flirting, or you didn't think he was -he didn't even smile, or smirk, or anything- just spoke over the rim of his cup and took a long drink after. Your eyes darted to his Adam's apple for a second, you'll admit it.

Nothing else happened that night, you didn't flirt. You don't know what did it, not at all, he just kept looking at you -small little, intense, glances. Once again, you thought nothing of it.

Well, until he pulled you into a closet and kissed the literal breath out of you.

And, well, the rest is easy to figure out.

It didn't happen all the time, not every mission, but sometimes, when the adrenaline was high. You called each other when you weren't on the same mission; he'd done it after the first time, and you followed suit. It was easy, so easy.

That brings you to today, it was supposed to be a grab-and-go, easy. Except for the whole full building of people part, it was an office actually and you needed the CEO. There were so many civilians, but you were Mouse -you'd be in and out so quick, they wouldn't even see you.

Your intel was wrong.

The whole place was filled with bodyguards, and security, head-to-toe, filled. You were good at your job, but you were outnumbered -so incredibly outnumbered.

Needless to say, your disguise of an office worker didn't work.

There was blood tainting your skin, your head on a swivel -fuzzy and pounding. Your were on the third floor, hidden in a janitors closet -the smell of cleaner burnt your nose and made your eyes water.

Your chest heaving and your hands shaking, you were overwhelmed -you couldn't do this alone. God knows how many men were on the last two floors. And you were 90% sure your ribs were broken on your right side, your leg was shot, and your shoulder was shot -you couldn't move. No way you were going up the stairs. You weren't even sure you could leave the building at this point-

You were bleeding out, actually, if the wooziness in your head meant anything.

Your comm was broken on the first floor, you'd cussed and thrown it to the ground. So, even if it still worked, it was lost -long gone of the concrete floors.

You were totally and completely fucked.

Then, you felt something in your pocket, rubbing against your clothes -scratching against the fabric. It buzzed then, low and under the hollowness of your breath; you barely heard it -a pounding in your ears so loud, you think it was your heartbeat.

You breathed out, pulling your phone out with your hand that wasn't lax on the floor -your shoulder wasn't fun to move.

The text flashed across your screen, Tangerine. It was a little blurry, your head spinning but if you focused you could read it.

'You home?'

Something in you sighed, deep and broken; maybe this was the last time you'd ever speak to him. You'd kind of become fond of him, all blue eyes and broad shoulders -his accent and the way his lips would creak up when he smiled at you. You ached for something you didn't have, you realized.

What a fucking time to realize it-

You typed out a message, painstakingly, a single finger -slow and deliberate, 'No. Job. Bleeding out, hidden. Too many.'

Your head was pounding, but you pushed through it, typing, 'I'm sorry, Tan.'

Your hand loosened, laying slack on your lap -your head hurt, maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. Not long, just a second to get the pounding out of your head.

Before you could fully do it, the phone in your lap jostled vibrating -it nearly fell, clattering onto the concrete floor but you grabbed it. Not eager to be found, you could die now but you would die if they found you.

Your eyes flickered across your screen, Tangerine flashed along it, shaking in your hand; he was calling you.

Something in you made you gather the strength to swipe and answer it -maybe to hear his voice again, or to say goodbye. You weren't sure, god you were so tired.

"Mouse," his accent spilled out, pointed, "-fuckin' Mouse, can you hear me, love?"

"Hey, Tan," you croaked out -voice rough and low, still not wanting to get caught and wanting to laugh -you didn't want to die sad, "-funny hearing from you."

"Mouse," he didn't react, seemed to be moving, you could hear his footsteps -loud, loud, "-where are you?"

"On a job," you sighed out, words a little breathless and slurred, "-'Supposed to be an office building, but it wasn't. Security, so many security- Think the CEO was bigger than fucking officework-"

"Darling," he spoke softer, but still loud, direct, "-focus on my voice, yeah?"

"Okay," you hummed, more focused -you wanted to do whatever he wanted, "-I will."

"Now," he spoke, gently, and you heard a car door shut -absentmindedly, "-where are you? Can you remember?"

"On the docks," you answered, slow -trying to process the words you were saying, "-tall, so many windows... Company, it's a... glass company, I think. J-Johnson something."

Tangerine hummed low and warm, you recognized the tone -somehow you knew it, "Okay, okay, love. Good- Good job."

"Third floor," you echoed out, "-There's two more, people still in them, I didn't get far enough."

"Can you hear 'em, love?"

"Sometimes," you let out a long breath, "-I'm staying quiet, they'll kill me, Tan-"

"Relax, darling," his voice crept up to your ear, "-breathe, keep focused, yeah? Keep talkin' to me."

'Lemon, fuckin' drive faster, will you?'

"I'm in a...a janitors closet, it's dark in here, I-I can't see. Think I'm bleeding," you mumbled out -a little slurred, you weren't sure he could hear you.

"Fuck..." he sighed, swallowing something in his throat -you could tell you weren't supposed to hear it, "-Where are you hurt, love? They cut you, shoot you, what?"

"Broken ribs," your breath stuttered out -it stung, "-shot me in the shoulder and the leg, I can't fucking move."

"Right, yeah," he exhaled and you thought for a second it was shaky -something sour in his tone, "-You got any pressure on it? Can you?"

"'Can't move, Tan."

"Try for me, love," his voice shook a little, you couldn't think about it, "-Try the... Try the leg."

You did, moving the arm where your shoulder bled -it ached so heavily your head started to pound, but you pushed through. Pressing your palm hard against the skin, you hissed into the phone -eyes bleary, you think you might've been crying.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered, his voice rough, "-'So sorry, love. I know it hurts like hell, I know."

Your breath shook out through your throat, tone lighter, "'Been shot before?"

"Fuckin' yesterday," he huffed out, all angry and Tangerine, "-some bloody prick grazed my side."

You laughed, and it hurt a little, but you didn't care -not then, "'Always so angry."

"Not at you," he corrected, hardly letting your words slip out, "-Never at you, love."

The hum of the engine stopped, and you heard a distant voice -Lemon, you recognized. It was a sort of murmur to you, you couldn't hear the words. You weren't sure you wanted to.

"Mouse?" He spoke out, slow words but urgent, "-You said the third floor, right? Janitors closet?"

"'s where I'm hiding," you clarified.

"Yeah, right-" you heard the patter of his footsteps, slaps across the sidewalk -some crinkling of fabric, "-I'm on my way, okay? Goin' as fast as I fuckin' can-"

"Be careful," it slipped out of your lips, low and slurred, but you know he heard it.

A sharp inhale of his breath told you so, wordless on the other side of the line -you could only hear the slap of his footsteps, so fast.

"You..." he started, something shaking in his voice, "-You stay alive, yeah? Keep breathin'-"

"Tan-"

"No," he echoed, direct and strict, "-no, you can't die. Not now, okay? You stay fuckin' alive."

"Tan-"

He continued, not slowing down -words frantic, "'Ave so much to say, love, so much. You gotta stay alive to hear it."

"Okay," you breathed out, fighting back the slip shut of your eyes -they burned and you were so tired but you couldn't leave him, not when he was so close, "-I'll stay alive. Promise."

"Promise," he echoed like it helped him understand it -believe it.

Before you knew it, your phone went silent -echoing out into the air. You squinted at it, taking a deep breath -feeling it rack through your body. Dead. Your phone was dead.

God, you'd never hated yourself more. It was so easy to breathe when he was there on the phone, so easy to remember why you were fighting and what you were fighting for.

The silence was overwhelming, a low whimper pursing through your lips -you couldn't see anything but you could feel the blood, sticky on your hand. Something in your stomach twisted, tongue heavy in your mouth; what if you died before he got here?

You can't imagine-

"Lemon," a voice echoed outside the door, "-you deal with the upstairs, keep your eye on it. I'll check every fuckin' room on this floor-"

"Tan," Lemon spoke quieter, a crinkle of fabric, "-they'll be alright. We're 'ere, remember?"

"Right, yeah," Tangerine let out a shaking breath, "-I just..."

"I know," Lemon interrupted, voice stronger, "-I think they know too. 'Just go and fuckin' find 'em, yeah?"

"Don't even have to ask-"

And then, the footsteps grew louder. You knew the closet was close to the stairs, he'd be here soon -god, he'd be here soon. You let out a deep breath, shaking against your chest -a sob racking through your lips, it wasn't loud, not really, but it was noise.

The footsteps stopped in place, and you could hear the harbored breathing for a moment, before it echoed out into the hallway -shaky and full of hope, concern, so much, "Mouse? Mouse? Can you hear me?"

Your breath stuttered in your chest, and the sting of your lungs overwhelmed you for a moment. You breathed out, slow and trying to numb your pain, and talk. But it hurt-

"I-In here-" you breathed out and it was shaking and it was quiet, but without a doubt, the footsteps quickened, so fast you could almost not even hear it.

The door, close to you, sneaked open -light pouring out into the room, it blinded you for a moment. All you could see was the shadow of a figure, you knew it though, knew the shadow. You smelt his cologne, and you had missed it-

Without a single breath shattering out of your lungs, he was standing for a moment frozen -door lazily opened and hallway out of the corner of your eye's view.

Tangerine slunk to your side, eyes dashing across your body, the stains, the blood-

He swallowed, dryly -concerned; you could see the emotions pass through his face. Something in you wants to calm him, tell him you're okay. But you didn't actually know that.

His hair was out of place, curly and ungelled, but still wearing a suit -the blue one that matched his eyes. You like that one, you mindlessly thought.

And without a word, he began to move -shrugging off his jacket. You merely watched on, as he tugged at his sleeves -unbuttoning the cuff (it was all a little familiar actually for very different circumstances), and without hesitation, ripping the fabric off his arm.

The noise echoed through the hallway, startling you slightly. Tangerine flinched a little, frowning, before going back to the fabric.

Hands tenderly gathered at your leg, he gently replaced your hand and wordlessly tied the fabric around your calf. He paused, looking at you, voice soft and gentle.

"This is gonna hurt, love. I'm sorry in advance."

And it did. Who knew?

Your head was bleary, eyes a little hazy and teary from the pain -breaths hollowed out of your chest.

"'Should be the worst of it, love," he hummed out, before sliding a hand behind your back -carefully pulling you up, "-lean on me, okay? I 'ave to get to your shoulder."

You nodded, slowly pressing your head forward into his right shoulder -his cologne filtering through your nose, and the warmth of his body fluttering over your skin. It was comforting, so much that your eyes almost closed on instinct; heartbeat in your ears, the sensation grounded you -brought you back in your body.

Tangerine was moving, looping the fabric under your arm -carefully keeping your arm steady and in place. Fingertips gentle like he was holding the world in his hands -careful and considerate.

"Stay awake, love," he spoke, his voice rumbling into your ear, "-I know you're tired, but I need ya to keep your eyes open for me."

They fluttered open at his request, forehead pressed into his shirt -you could see the thin lines in his vest, tracing the crinkle over his shoulder. You focused on the feeling, the fabric tight around your skin, and the buzz of his skin against yours.

You'd been closer really, but this was a new kind of intimacy -something that made you pleased somewhere deep in your chest. You had always wanted this you realized, this closeness with Tangerine.

How did you not notice?

Even when he stopped, hands still, you stayed there a moment like you'd never get it back.

And maybe you wouldn't. Maybe this changed everything and Tangerine would run for the hills-

Without a word, he laid you back down -gently placing your head on the ground with an attentive hand, a bit like you were breakable. Fragile. You supposed right now you were.

His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned over you, eyes hitching on the makeshift bandages, "We 'ave to get you to the hospital, shirt can only do so much, love."

You thought of the pain in your leg, the pulse of your heartbeat when you walk, but even still, you tried to push up -get on your feet. You promised you'd stay alive.

Tangerine immediately put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get up," you answered, simply.

"Right, no, not happenin'," he let out a laugh in disbelief, "-you are not fuckin' walkin'.

Without another word, he stood -turning around and looking down the hall, assumedly for Lemon. When his eyes caught you could tell, something straightening in his posture with one succinct nod.

They always had their language, it was so interesting to watch sometimes. Lemon would raise an eyebrow, Tangerine would squint his eyes and they'd both not move for 20 seconds like they were communicating through looks.

Before you could think about it too hard, he spun back to you -sinking to his knees. Mumbling, "Think you're fuckin' walkin', ridiculous." No hesitation, he slipped his arms under your back and knees -careful of your calf, and stood.

In another world, you'd probably be shocked at his physical strength but lucky for you, you already knew a lot about that.

Not now, your mind hissed.

Tangerine's steps were quick but careful to not jostle you at all. At some point, you heard Lemon -frantic and loud but you couldn't make out what he said. That was your first sign. The world after that began to spin, the stairwell becoming dizzying -your eyes just wanted to shut. You were so tired.

You heard Tangerine then, you knew he was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what he was saying. You tried so hard to listen-

Then, it all went black.

The first thing was the smell of sterilization hitting your nose, it made you scrunch it up on instinct and then you heard some ruffling.

"Mx. Williams?"

You did not know who Mx. Williams was, but you still squinted open your eyes -the bright lights making your head spin for a moment. You settled across the room, nothing special, just a typical hospital bed -stiff bed, thin covers, and all.

It was a woman speaking, you realized, in scrubs with a warm smile on her face. Ah, you thought, an alias.

"Hi," she spoke softly, carefully, with a smile, "-you're in a hospital, you're safe. Do you remember anything?"

"No," you answered, unsure of the story concocted to get you here.

"You were involved in a robbery," she began, slow to introduce it, "-you had a few injuries from it but you're all fixed up now, okay?"

It was surprisingly calming, "Okay."

"Your husband," she motioned to your right side, "-brought you in."

Your eyes darted to your side -because husband?!, but they just settled on Tangerine -laid back in a chair, arms crossed and chair pulled as close to your side as he could.

Something in you softened, and you smiled.

His clothes were still ripped and stained, but it was dry now. You briefly wondered how long you'd been there, how long he'd been waiting.

"Been a rough couple of days," the nurse hummed, "-he hasn't left since you got here."

You hummed, reaching out and brushing your skin against his hand -just to feel him, know he's real. It didn't wake him up, but you weren't sure you wanted him to just yet. You wanted to enjoy this before everything went... however, it went.

"You've got a good one," the nurse hummed, scribbling on a chart -eyes lounging over the machines.

You smiled a little brighter, imagining it for a second, where he was yours, "I know."

"Alright," she spoke, pushing the clipboard back into her chest, "-your doctor will be here soon."

You nodded, eyes languidly tracing over Tangerine -his head was leaned forward now, curls hanging over. Something in you wanted to brush through them, and you would have honestly, but you couldn't really reach.

You pursed your lips, throat dry, when you spotted water on the little table by your bedside and a thing of jello maybe, probably in preparation for when you got up. Pulling it toward you, maybe a little too fast, because the plastic spoon clattered to the floor; you flinched.

"Shit," you mumbled.

It definitely wasn't loud enough to wake him, but he must've been sleeping very lightly. Sudden and brash, ready to fight something -protective, he didn't even notice you.

"Woah, hey-" you laughed a bit in disbelief, and sipping from the bottle, "-calm down, cowboy."

His eyes immediately flicked to you, blue and darting all over your face like he was taking you in. Wordlessly, he stood there frozen -almost in disbelief.

You paused, looking over him -softer, "You okay, Tan?"

"Am I fuckin... Am I okay?" He echoed out, "-Really?"

"Well, yeah," you responded, slow, "-you seem... riled up."

"Love," he spoke, softer but still so direct, breathless, "-you're in a fuckin' hospital bed. You almost died-"

"Seriously, Tan," you interrupted, you hadn't seen this side of him before, "-are you alright?"

He stood completely still, eyes flicking to yours -hair sticking up in a mess, shirt still ripped. He looked a little deranged, not the worse you'd ever seen, but... there was something in his eyes -a gleam.

You couldn't tell what it was.

"No," he finally answered.

"Are you-" you started, now suddenly darting over the blood (was some of it his?) "-Are you hurt? Did you get checked by-"

"Love," he sighed out, hands raking through his hair, "-you almost died. Do you not hear that? Fuckin' dead, gone-"

"Tan-"

"No, no, no-" he shook his hand, exasperated, in disbelief, "-if I hadn't called, you would be fuckin' dead, Mouse."

"Tangerine."

"What the hell were you bloody doin' there?" He finished succinctly, eyebrows gathered -frustrated.

"A job," you spoke, tone questioning, "-What the hell is your problem?"

"You shouldn’t have fuckin' been there," he nearly growled out, "-that's my problem."

"My intel was wrong," you exhaled, stiff -if he was angry, you would be too, "-I couldn't have known. You think I wanted to solo a whole building of security?"

You trailed off, settling back into the bed -your head was starting to hurt; this was not what you had wanted. Far fucking from it.

He sighed, a big long sigh, briefly pressing his fingers on his temples, "Look, Mouse-"

You didn't look at him, eyes trained on your hands, and the blanket spanned across your lap. You wouldn't give him the dignity of looking at him, not when he was just being a dick.

"I'm not mad at you," his voice was lower now, "-just whoever sent you on that fuckin' suicide mission."

"'Could've fooled me," you scoffed, twisting your arms into a crossed position.

Tangerine sighed again, roaming closer to your bedside and falling to his knees to meet your face better, "Mouse, love, look at me."

You kept your eyes on your hands.

"Mouse, please."

You pursed your lips, he hardly pulled out the please -this was bigger than what you thought it was. Your eyes landed succinctly on his, blue -so blue- already looking at you with something of remorse. Huh.

"I'm sorry," he started, slow with one hand reached up to run through his hair again, "-I know I'm being a fuckin' dick."

"Good guess," you hummed.

"Right, yeah," he shook his head, lips curling up at the corners, "-Look, I... Fuck, I..."

"Tangerine," you put a hand on his shoulder, he was close enough now, "-seriously, what is wrong? I've never seen you like this."

He swallowed, dryly, and you almost offered him your water -he'd been doing that a lot lately.

"You almost died," he repeated.

"Tan, we're not talking about me," you responded, "-I think we both know what happened-"

"Love," he interrupted, repeating again, "-you almost died."

You raised a brow, questioning -confused really, "What does that have to do with-"

"I wouldn't have known," he breathed out, shaky and tone the same, "-you were going to fuckin' die and I wouldn't have known, ya know 'at?"

This was new to you, Tangerine looked shaken, scared. When had he ever been so broken open in front of you, so... so desperate? It was like he cracked open his ribs and you were staring at his heart.

"Tan, I didn't mean to-"

"I would've fuckin'-" he laughed a little, and it was wet -there were tears in the corners of his eyes, "-I'd 'ave heard it through the fuckin' grapevine."

"Tan," you were too soft to stop him.

"Do you know why 'at's fucked up? Truly, do you?"

"Because we're... friends?" You asked, with a lilt -you weren't sure, and even though you felt something you couldn't push that on him. No matter how bad it hurt.

"Fuckin' friends," he laughed, looking up at the ceiling -his eyes were definitely teary, you realized.

"Why are you-"

"Darling, tell me this," he spoke, looking at you now -blue eyes intense on yours, "-do you think I would've grieved you as a fuckin' booty call or a... a friend?"

"I don't..." you spoke, "-I don't know, Tan."

"No, truly, love," he echoed, voice quiet and barely there, "-do you think I would 'ave?"

You fell silent, eyes sliding over his face -the storm of his eyes. It wasn't like a thunderstorm, not angry, just a rain -a dark, heavy rain. You wanted them to be light again, sunny.

You pursed your lips, flicking over his face -there was something different there, something smoothed across his features that you had never seen before. It was something.

"No," you answered finally.

"And you ask me, you ask me-" he started, tears built up now -he blinked them away, "-if I'm okay?"

You didn't say a word.

"You almost-" Tangerine continued, voice breaking as he tilted his head down and took a deep breath.

"Tan," you spoke, softly -something burning in the backs of your own eyes.

"You almost died in my fuckin' arms, Mouse."

"But I didn't," you echoed, "-I didn't. I'm alive, you saved me-"

And then in the tiniest voice you'd heard from him, he looked at you, teary-eyed and exhausted, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Tangerine, I-" you started, "-I didn't know if it... if you-"

"I would've picked up," he spoke, firm and decisive, something biting in his tone, "-If you were halfway across the fuckin' world, I would've found a fuckin' way."

"That's not-" you started, before sighing, "-I didn't know if it mattered to you."

"Mattered to me?" His voice echoed in disbelief, "-If you... You didn't know if your death would've mattered to me?"

"No," you answered, "-I really didn't. I thought... Well, I thought both of you would be fine-"

"Fuckin' fine?" He spilled out, "-You think I would've been fine?"

"I didn't know," you reasoned, "-it wasn't... none of it was... We never talked about it."

"God, I'm the fuckin' stupidest person on this goddamn planet," he breathed out -a mutter, but you still caught it. He was really close to you in this position, you could hear the inhale of his breaths.

"Darling," he spoke, something pent up in his eyes -ready to spill, "-I can hardly function without you. And you think- You really fuckin' think that I wouldn't have cared if you died?"

"I didn't know," you explained, "-I didn't know anything, Tan. We never- We never talked about this, it was simple, easy."

"Well, it's about to get really fuckin' complicated, isn't it?"

"What are you-" you started -confused.

"Consider this me talkin' about it, yeah?" He spoke, looking straight at you -not waiting for an answer, "-The idea of you dying makes me fuckin' sick. 'Makes my whole body feel like my heart fell out of my fuckin' chest, and left a cold, empty shell of a man. Yeah? If you died, I think I wouldn't be able to breathe anymore-"

"Tangerine-" you swallowed back tears.

He continued, "And frankly, the idea of it happenin' has kept me up at night. The idea of it happenin' and me not knowin', not even bein' there- I can't even begin to fuckin' fathom."

"Tangerine-"

"I can't be here without you," he finished, softer and quieter, "-I can hardly fuckin' leave you without it feelin' like I've left a fuckin' limb. A piece of me."

You couldn't speak, tears bubbling up your throat. He stared at you, and all you could do was stare back -eyes unwavering; you wondered distantly where his head was at.

"So, yeah," he cleared his throat -righting himself, "-I would care if you died. 'Would care a fuckin' lot."

"I didn't..." you began, tears burning your eyes -something heavy in your chest, "-I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, a little bluntly, "-you ever see me as fuckin' feelings guy? No, but even still I should've told you a long fuckin' time ago because this-"

His hand motioned to you in the bed.

"This was a fuckin'... worst-case scenario for me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered -you couldn't imagine the pain, if he... if he meant all that.

"You're sorry?" His eyes were attentive on you again, big blue and concerned, guilty, "-no, love, there's nothin' to be sorry for. I... I should've said somethin', I doubt you would've ever been in this state if I had."

"I'd-" you echoed out, "-I'd still have the same job, Tan."

"I would've gone with you," he spoke, "-or been closer... I-I would've fuckin' driven the getaway car if you'd let me."

You paused, eyes flickering over his face -that unnamed thing, you knew it now. It seemed so obvious. Every word he said bounced off your head as it echoed in your mind; he'd said so much, you could read in-between the lines for the rest of it.

"Tangerine?" You hummed.

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff, spent.

"I love you too."

He grinned then, all crow's feet and upturned lips -you'd never seen something so bright. Not from him. Maybe it wouldn't be the last one.

"Thank fuckin' god," he groaned out, "-I really don't know what I was goin' to do if you didn't."

You laughed, a little shy -this was all so new, "Well, good thing you don't have to, yeah?"

"Yeah," he finished, still smiling -his hand came to hold yours for a moment, careful even though you weren't hurt there.

Tangerine seemed thoughtful for a moment, before raising your hand to his lips, "I'm really fuckin' glad you're alright, love."

"Yeah, me too."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the door swinging open cut it short.

"You lot done yet?" Lemon asked, head sticking in the door, "-I've been waitin' out here like 20 minutes. The nurses are startin' to look at me weird-"

Tangerine sighed from beside you, as you spoke, "Come on in, Lemon. Lovely to see you by the way."

He stepped fully in then, your eyes catching on the takeout boxes in the bags he held, "So polite, unsure why you ever liked him."

"Right," Tangerine rolled his eyes, "-Do we 'ave to start this now?"

"You see?" Lemon raised a hand, "-This is how he treats me, yeah? I bring 'im food and I'm fuckin' shot do-"

"Is there something for me?" You questioned, you had honestly never been so hungry in your life -probably your body healing and whatnot.

"'Is there something for you?' Of course, Mouse, I'm very thoughtful like 'at," Lemon smiled, "-unlike this bloke, yeah?"

"Lemon," Tangerine hissed.

"Told ya," he responded, taking a seat in one of the extra chairs on the other side of you.

"I'll fuckin' bite your head off, you know 'at? Rip you limb from limb-"

"Boys, seriously," you groaned, "-can you agree on anything?"

"You need a new handler," Lemon spoke -already eating his meal, to which Tangerine reluctantly nodded.

"Well-"

"And you're with us now," Tangerine offered up, "-anywhere you go, we go."

Lemon nodded, pointing to his brother like in solidarity, "Agreed."

"Guys, really? That's what you-"

"You know how pouty he's gonna be if you aren't?" Lemon retorted, handing Tangerine both his and your boxes -movement fluid right over you.

"I don't fuckin' pout," he murmured, opening the box and setting it on your table -before settling into his chair with his own.

"No, don't even start that shit," Lemon replied, "-you haven't said a full word to me in the last two weeks!"

"That wasn't pouting-"

"What would you call it then, sulking?"

"I'll kill you, Lemon, don't fuckin' start it-"

"Enough you two," you yelled out, not loud enough to attract any unwanted attention, but enough to shut them both up.

You sighed out a big long breath and righted yourself -grabbing a forkful on the food.

"Now," you hummed, grinning at the two of them, "-where are we off to next?"

They raised an eyebrow.

"If I'm staying with you," you repeated, "-where are we going next?"

Tangerine furrowed his brow like it was common sense, "Nowhere, love, you're healing."

"Tan-"

"Seconded," Lemon raised his hand, "-he's already got a place and everythin' might as well give it to 'im."

"When did you-"

"Not important," Tangerine clarified, before turning to his brother, "-See, how hard was that? To fuckin' support me?"

"You're one to talk, mate."

You were really gonna have to get used to this.

Then Tangerine, almost instinctively, scooted his chair forward -placing his box next to yours on the table and with the confidence of a million men, intertwined your hands.

It couldn't have been comfortable, both with the hospital bed barriers and eating with one hand, but he treated it like it was nothing at all. Like he'd do it 100 times over for you.

Okay, you thought to yourself, you could definitely get used to this.

#temporary fix #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine #tan's things

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

Text

bun in the oven || Tangerine × afab!reader

Summary: The two lines were haunting you. Of course, it was after a month's trip -when you hadn't seen him in so long. So, you spent an insane amount of time thinking just how he'd react and if your world would come crashing down as soon as he'd heard the words. You were totally fine. Totally.

TW: unplanned pregnancy, worrying, blood, injuries, cursing (it's Tangerine) and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: I use gender neutral pronouns, but you are pregnant so... I hope that opens it up to more people. Enjoy :)]]

He'd been gone for at least a month. You actually weren't sure, it was kind of blurry; you'd been working so much and then you'd... Well, you'd missed your period and made an appointment and they tested your blood.

Every day since then had been monotonous, ringing in your ears and your brain running 100 miles a minute. You stayed home most of the time, eating some weird food combination (you honestly thought it was a myth), and being nervous out of your goddamn mind.

It's not like you'd ever talked about this. You talked about the future, yeah, and he was always saying 'I'm goin' to marry you one day, love' with those eyes.

He said it once with his head in your lap and your hand twisted into his hair, blue eyes all soft and sappy -like he couldn't believe you were even there. He'd said it again when you gently cleaned off a cut along his cheekbone, between his legs as he sat on a stool -he didn't even take his eyes off you for a second. All soft words and even softer smiles.

You did believe him, you did.

But you hadn't yet, and they were just words -no matter how genuine and earnest they seemed.

Everything in your body tingled, and you weren't sure you were even thinking straight for weeks. That's probably why when he'd showed up, you'd been the most tired you'd ever been but still somehow bouncing off your toes. You felt like a bundle of nerves just waiting to explode.

Initially, you weren't sure you even wanted to tell him then. He would be tired and bloody and hurt- You weren't positive it'd be the best time, but at the same time, you really couldn't hold it any longer than a night.

Or you didn't think you could. You really should've known better.

"Tan," you hummed, gathering his face up in your hands -turning him at different angles to see the slices and scratches littered along his skin. They were tiny, you noted, less like a knife -a big long scar, and more like... well, thorns.

"Glass," he muttered back, slow and tired, "-broke a fuckin' window, didn't have time to move."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He paused for a moment, eyes lazily drifting across your skin -always with that look.

"Don't lie to me, Tan."

"Never, darling," he smiled, a soft one that you knew was specially reserved for you, "-I think I bruised my ribs, 'at's about it."

"Honest?" You questioned, eyes heavy on his.

"Honest, love," he reiterated -eyes still following you like you were that of a dream and he hadn't woken up yet.

"Good," you echoed, trailing to grab his hand and bring him to the stool -it was your makeshift doctor's office at this point. A drawer in the kitchen filled with first aid, all ready for these nights; you'd started it after the first few visits. You think after the first time he came home bleeding you'd started stashing it all away.

"Lemon okay?" You questioned, digging around the drawer -wipes and bandages.

"Worse than me," he spoke quietly, eyes not leaving your face as you dabbed at his face, "-doctored 'im up the car. He's alright now. Conscious enough to talk about his fuckin' trains."

You smiled, he was always so worked up about his brother -wasn't he?

"He say you were a Gordon again?" You teased, trailing over a cut above his eyebrow -fingertips soft and gentle.

"No," he huffed, "-not a fuckin' Gordon."

"I know, honey," you laughed, ever-so-slightly, "-you don't have to convince me."

His lips curled into a smile, cheeks crinkling -part of you wanted to trace his crow's feet, brush your fingers into his hair. Later, you told yourself.

If you had a later, something in your mind chimed.

You stiffened, breath hollowing in your chest, hand held still against his skin; you stood a bit frozen. Rigid edges, and breaths short and quick. Something in you wondered if he could tell, if he could sense-

Tangerine paused, turning his face to match your eyes -fingers (you absentmindedly noticed blood underneath his fingernails) tilting your face with the softest of brushes, "Everythin' alright, darling?"

"What?"

He tilted his head, ignoring your movement to keep bandaging him -other hand gently wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your place. Blue eyes swimming across your own like he was trying to read you, like he could tell.

"You're all stiff," he pressed his lips together, thumb rubbing circles into your wrist.

"I'm just tired, Tan," you smiled tightly, not quite reaching your eyes before stepping forward to bandage him more.

He merely held you in place, holding your eyes with no hesitation, "That's a bullshit answer, you know 'at."

"Look," you sighed, "-can we talk about it tomorrow? When we've both slept?"

"Not if you're upset," he frowned, preturbed by your behavior -you should've known he could tell.

"Tan," you paused, careful -your voice gently shaking, something you'd only hear if you were really listening, "-I really don't..."

"Love," he tilted his head -eager to match your eyes, keep your attention, "-tell me."

You don't know what happened, if it was his voice, or his eyes, or his hands. You couldn't tell. Something bubbling up in your throat, and burning the backs of your eyes, you really didn't want to do this now-

Something crossed over his face, as he scooted down from the stool -with ease sliding his hands down your arms, keeping you there. Tangerine knew you too well.

It slipped past your lips before you could even think about it.

"I'm pregnant."

His mouth opened before he could think about it -something instinctual, "Right, and I'm the Virgin fuckin' Mary."

"Tangerine."

He paused, eyes sifting across your face -something passed through his again, something new, something you had never seen before. You swallowed, hands curled into themselves so hard that you might have bled -you couldn't tell, you were numb.

"You..." he echoed, throat dry and eyes wide open, "You're serious?"

You flattened your lips, eyes burning and tears gathering -your hands shaking and your brain thrumming in your head. You couldn't speak.

"Darling, I didn't-" he paused, swallowing hard, "-I shouldn't have said fuckin' anythin, I didn't mean- I... fuck, seriously?"

"Tan-"

He breathed out, still holding your arms in place, "Are you... Are you happy, love?"

"Are you?" You pushed through, "-I've... I've spent a month wondering if you were going to just... leave me."

"Oh, love," he sighed, bringing up his hands to cup your face -soothing in a whisper, "-love, listen. I could never, I would never leave you. You'd have to fuckin' drag me out yourself, actually-"

You laughed.

"-I'm... I wouldn't leave you," he spoke gently, eyes dipping to your stomach -there was nothing there yet, "-'specially not now."

"You're not upset?" You echoed, something shaking in your voice -he frowned at the noise, loosely pushing forward to kiss you.

His mustache tickled your lip. It was something short and sweet, warm, and sent something fluttering in your chest.

"'Course not," he hummed, hands lowering to flatten on your stomach, a smile flashing across his face, "-Actually am rather happy."

"Yeah?" Your voice cracked out, tears finally leaving your eyes -his thumbs were quick to wipe them, "-You are?"

"Very," he laughed, something of tears in his own eyes -you only smiled brighter.

"Even," you started, suddenly, "-Even with your line of work? That... You can't have a family with-"

"I'll stop," he blurted out, rash and without thought but still genuine, "-'Ave to finish a few things, tie up some loose strings but I'll... I'll stop. We can live off my money for awhile."

"Tangerine," you let out a breath, "-I can't ask you to-"

"You're not," he interrupted, bubbling up like he couldn't stop talking.

"What about... What about these nine months? Are you-" you paused, before rewording, "-Are you going to be here?"

"God, am I going to be here," he let out a weepy sort of laugh, "-I'm not leavin' your fuckin' side darling."

"What about-"

"What nothing, love," he interrupted again, now holding your face again, and he was crying you realized, "-I'm goin' to take care you. Everyday. No one can fuckin' stop me-"

"What about the danger?" You spoke, rational and clear -it was your baby, after all.

"Lemon'll move in," he said -firm and direct, "-and God forbid anyone try and get their hands on you, love. I'll rip 'em to fuckin' shreds-"

"Okay, okay," you laughed, slipping your hands over his shoulders -trying to calm him, "-I think we get it, Tan."

"We," he muttered, a little mystified -grin so wide it almost hurt to look at as he sunk to crouch in front of you, pressing his forehead to your stomach.

"Yeah, we," you reiterated, smiling big and wide.

He heaved a deep breath into your stomach, holding himself there for a minute. A bit like he needed it. You didn't mind.

And as he whispered against your stomach tiny little promises that you knew he would keep, you wondered why you ever thought he would leave you. He may be a dick sometimes, but he's not... he would never.

"I'm gettin' you a fuckin' ring."

Yeah, you thought to yourself, I'll be just fine.

#bun in the oven #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine bullet train

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tange-my-rine · 1 year ago

Text

guard dog || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: Lemon has been trying to get you to see it for years. His brother was into you, so much it physically hurt to watch. That's what he said anyway. You were skeptical, to say the least. The fact that everyone who had ever hurt you, or even just threatened to, was dead though, was indisputable.

TW: protective!Tangerine, jealous!Tangerine, violence, murder, cursing (it's Tangerine), all things bullet train.

[[A/N: y'all know I love a good pining story 🫣🫣🫣, enjoy :) ]]

You'd known the twins for about as long as you've been in the business. Your handler was the same, and for a mission, they just decided to pair the three of you up. It was some simple grab-and-go, you can hardly remember now actually, but the three of you mended so well that your place was practically cemented.

Don't get you wrong, Tangerine has resisted, hard, since the beginning but you could see the progress. Or well, you hoped it was progress.

Lemon seemed to think so, and that was good enough for you. Who knew him better than Lemon, after all?

That brings you to now, where you sat in a fancy sort of gala -dressed to the nines; there was a man, some wealthy guy, that was the hit. Tangerine had gone to roam the crowds to, well, find him. Lemon sat inconspicuously to your right in a suit, a nice gray number, with a drink in his hand, looked a little like champagne but you couldn't be certain.

"You think he's lost?" You questioned, smiling over your cup -eyes directed to the crowd in a sweeping motion. You lagged on every good blue suit in the mix, perhaps for someone in particular, but you'd never say that out loud.

"'Wouldn't admit it if he was," Lemon retorted with a chuckle.

"I could get lost in here," you remarked, tapping your fingers along the tablecloth, gaze slipping across the ceiling -it was all shiny with chandeliers and painted columns, "-I bet there's at least 16 rooms on this floor."

Lemon pursed his lips, "He's only supposed to be in one, though, ain't he? Minglin' and such."

"He could've slipped away," you hummed, messing with your sleeve.

"Guess so," Lemon echoed, eyes glazed over the bustle of the people.

You paused for a moment, before saying, "Why did we send him again? He's really not the sociable type to get the guy's guard down, yeah?"

"Easy," Lemon smiled, something twinkling in his eyes, "-he wouldn't let me go because of competitive reasons and he wouldn't let you go because he'd sooner fuckin' die than leave you alone."

"Lemon," you lowered your voice, "-I'm an assassin, I'm sure I could've found this guy myself. I'm not a baby."

"Not sayin' you are love," he spoke matter-of-factly, "-It's nothin' about your skill, it's all him."

You quirked your brow, taking a long sip, "All him?"

"Have you really not noticed?" Lemon questioned, now fully facing you, "-He's like your fuckin' guard dog."

Ah, this again.

"Lemon, we've talked about this-"

"Doesn't mean it ain't true," he tsked, "-I can read people you know that, especially my brother."

You did know that, but your brain just really couldn't wrap around the idea of Tangerine seeing you that way. Not that it wasn't desirable, god was it desirable- it just didn't make any sense. He didn't treat you any differently than his brother, except for small things. Like holding open the door, pulling out your chair, and listening to you talk thoughtfully (unlike with his brother who he'd directly told to 'shut the fuck up').

He was just polite.

And it's not like you didn't think him to be handsome. He was probably one of the most well-crafted people on the planet, all pressed suits and slick hair and blue eyes and strong arms-

"Think back for me," Lemon interrupted your train of thought, thankfully, "-last mission, how many people got their hands on you?"

A grab-and-go, some sort of drive, you think.

"Like how many I fought? I mostly knocked them out, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Lemon agreed, "-but, somehow, they all ended up dead. Not your doin', not my doin'."

"Well," you scoffed, "-you can't leave witnesses-"

"Mission before that," he continued, relentless, "-quick in and out, nobody but the target to die, yeah? But some bloke held your arm too tight, remember?"

He'd wanted to buy you a drink, and you said no. He insisted. By the time you'd gotten him off, Tangerine had neatly sauntered to your side. You'd always thought it was weird timing, actually.

"Yeah," you hummed, furrowing your brow, "-okay. He didn't die though."

"Yeah, he did, back alley when you were in the car," Lemon replied, taking a long sip of his drink -finishing it actually.

"What?!" You hissed, "-There was no need-"

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, love-" he held up his hands in surrender, "-I had nothin' to do with it. Except well, baggin' 'im up, Tan wanted to meet you in the car. He's always givin' me the dirty work."

Before you could respond, and you very much wanted to, Tangerine leisurely waltzed up to the table. Slow and steady steps didn't draw attention. Although you're not sure that mattered because well, everyone is going to look at him -I mean, come on-

"Disappeared in a room with a woman," he spoke quickly, exhaling a big breath, and snatching your drink from your fingertips -promptly downing it.

"Hey-" you began but didn't get far.

"I'll buy ya another one, love," he spoke, sly and smooth -sitting down to your left, exasperated, "-Fuckin' needed it. All the guy droned about was kissing arse and fuckin' stocks."

"You spoke to him?" You tilted your head, curious -promptly ignoring the fluttering when he called you love.

"No," he nearly spit out, "-just heard 'im. Real fuckin' piece of work, I tell ya."

Lemon hummed, "Good thing we're 'ere to kill 'im then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tangerine agreed before eyes flickering over the two of you, "-What have you been doin' then?"

"What do you think?" You laughed, "-Not much else we can do but sit."

"They haven't been flirtin'," Lemon smiled, teasing, "-if that's what you're askin'."

"Fuck you," Tangerine retorted, "-just thought I'd ask somethin' nice for once and you twist it, see? Can't be nice to you."

"Enough, you two," you exhaled, swatting at both of them -your hand brushed Tan's but you didn't focus on it for long, "-Guy's back out."

The man was tall, greying slightly by the ears and big full dark beard -seemed the type to be a beneficiary or whatever it was. His suit was one you recognized to be expensive, probably because of Tan now that you think about it, and he was swarmed by quite a few men -itching for conversation, advice, you assumed.

And then, his eyes, deep brown ones, slinked over the table, landing solely on you.

You smiled -the kind that made all the men happy, waving gently. Standing up, you patted the table and whispered to your partners.

"Looks like he has a weak spot," you spoke through your teeth, "-be back in ten. Don't bite each other's heads off, please!"

You were a people's person, and men were simple, it wouldn't be hard to get him into a private space and-

You were halted, something pulling on your wrist. Less pulling and more held in place, actually. Spinning on your toes, your eyes held on Tangerine's fingers pressed into your wrist -keeping you at the table.

"Tan!" you hissed out, trying to pull your hand away -it wasn't a hard grip, just enough to keep you unmoving, "-What the hell?"

He seemed to scramble for a second, eyes fluttering across your face, "You can't just go without a plan, you know 'at, right?"

"Tan," you seethed, voice low to keep unwanted ears out, "-the plan is simple, get him alone and kill him. Now, why don't you let me-"

"No," he reiterated, "-you can't just go on your own. He's got men by his side, 24/7, what are you supposed to do if-"

"Lemon," you hissed, trying to get him on your side.

"No," he spoke, passively, standing up, "-I'm not involved in this, you two sort it out. I'll take care of 'im, yeah?"

"Seriously?" You turned to him, merely watching as he disappeared into the crowd -there goes your backup.

You turned to him, something heavy in your eyes -disbelief, "Do you really think I can't do it, Tan?"

"Love," Tangerine began, standing up beside you -it was almost like you were holding hands, "-I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, right," you scoffed, shaking off his hand, "-I need some air."

That is what led you to push through the glass doors and back onto the patio, rain trickling down from the sky. You stayed under the ledge for a moment, before decidedly stepping into it; it brought you back to earth for a moment, anger and frustration slowly numbing to the patter against your skin.

You'd always liked the rain.

"Come out of the rain, love," he spoke, careful and quiet -gentle in a way you'd only seen once ever, "-you're gonna get a cold."

You ignored him, raindrops dusting off your eyelashes and making your clothes stick to your skin ever-so-slightly. It wasn't enough to give you a cold, you knew that.

"Please."

Now, that was new.

You turned to face him, eyes adjusting to the shadow of the ledge. He looked at you softly, like you held the entire world in your hands and he didn't want you to drop it; blue eyes dusting over your face for any signs of anything you assumed. Something in you faltered.

Wordlessly, you stepped back under the ledge.

As soon as you did, he shrugged off his coat jacket and put it on your shoulders -almost out of habit. Another thing to add to your list.

He spoke first, leaning against the wall right beside you, "I'm a fuckin' dick, aren't I?"

You laughed, just a little -looking at the ground, "Yeah, you are."

"Look, love," he started, slow -his hand brushed up against yours on the wall, "-I wasn't tryin' to say anythin' about you. I kno' you could kill 'im without even thinkin' about it. You're incredible-"

Something in you twinkled, cheeks dusting a pink -not that you'd let him see.

"I just-" he started, running his hands through his hair -you watched the motion with lazy eyes, curious, "-I'm fuckin' daft."

"You are," you answered with a lilt of a tease, before turning to him, seriously, "-but why did you freak out like that? I really just thought you didn't trust me-"

He spun to you then, catching your eyes with his -a breath shattered out of your lungs, his hands firmly on your arms to keep you in place, "I trust you with my life. I do."

You hummed, looking at him critically, "Then what, Tan? If you trust me and know I'm good, then what's the problem?"

"It's not-" he sighed, eyes leaving yours as he rubbed a hand down his face -turning away slightly, with one hand still just below your shoulder, "-Fuck, I never wanted to-"

"Tan," you echoed out, gently placing your fingers against his jaw -turning him to meet your eyes, "-you can tell me anything, you know that."

You were so close now, a breath away from him -blue eyes flicking across your features, a bit frantic. You could feel his breath fan across your face, as your hands fell back to your side. You didn't dare blink. It almost felt like-

Could Lemon be...?

Your brain was working against you, as you blurted out, "Are you my guard dog?"

Tangerine paused, eyebrows furrowing, all tension now dissipated, "What?"

"Shit, I didn't-" you stepped back, but his hand on your arm didn't let you roam far, "-Lemon keeps telling me you're like my guard dog. All protective and like constantly keeping your eye out, not letting me go anywhere without you-"

"Your guard dog?"

"Yeah, it's stupid, but-" you paused, looking back at him, curious, "-did you really kill that guy in Madrid?"

"The hit?" He questioned, something in him relaxing, "-no Lemon did, you don't remember? The fucker stabbed me in the leg-"

And then, he fell silent -something passing over his face in recognition.

"In my defense, you weren't supposed to know about 'at."

"Well, I do," you exhaled, expectedly, "-may I ask why?"

"Why what?" He asked, somewhat innocently.

"Tan," you stressed.

"Same reason I didn't let ya leave," he exhaled, simply, like you knew the reason. You thought you might, but you weren't taking any chances.

"Tan, how am I supposed to-"

"He could've said bodyguard," he spoke, suddenly, working himself up, "-Just had to compare me to a fuckin' animal, didn't he? He's lucky I-"

"Tangerine."

"Right, yeah," he interrupted his thought process, eyes swimming to yours, "-I can... I can explain."

You met his eyes, "Please do."

He paused for a moment, seeming to settle on what to say, "I am... I am your fuckin'... guard dog, as my brother so eloquently put it."

You opened your mouth to comment.

"Hear me out, will ya?" He spoke, softly, fingers brushing circles against your arm -you merely nodded, "-I'm protective over ya, beyond belief really, not sure how ya didn't figure that one out."

Your hands went to the edge of his coat, tightening it on your shoulders. It was a little chilly now actually.

"Not because you can't protect yourself," he clarified before his eyes settled on your face -gentle and soft, almost... admiring, "-but because I don't kno' what I'd do if I lost you."

"Is it not the same with Lemon?" You questioned, your breath hollow in your chest.

"It's-" he cleared his throat, almost awkward, "-very different."

"Different how?"

"Love," he sighed, a little exhausted, "-I..."

"Just be honest with me, Tan," you echoed, a mere whisper, "-that's all I want."

And then his eyes darted over your face, swimming like he was committing every bit to memory... like he could never get enough. Suddenly, something settled over you, watching as the words stopped on his tongue but his face said it all.

He didn't have to say it, you realized -watching him, you knew.

With a breath, you pushed forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your head into his shoulder. His whole body tensed for a moment like he hadn't expected it, before relaxing -hands coming to twist along your waist.

"You don't have to say it," you muttered into his shirt, all crisp and clean, "-I know."

He spoke quietly, you could feel the breath on your skin, "You know?"

"I know," you repeated.

"'At mean I can take ya to dinner?" He questioned, playful but you could hear the nerves -you knew him well.

You pulled back, fingertips twisting in the curls on the back of his neck -smiling brightly, "I'd love to."

He grinned, and it crinkled at his eyes -now looking at you a bit like he can't believe it, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled back.

"You had your fill, you two?" Lemon interrupted, suddenly making himself known, "-Figured out all your shit, then?"

Tangerine's face dropped turning his head but making no move to let you go -it made your head fuzzy, "Don't fuckin' start."

"I won't," he held up his hands, before grinning -mischievously, "-I will say though, you can thank me anytime. Ya know, since I played fuckin' cupid."

"One more word," Tangerine leveled, eyes glaring daggers, "-I'm fuckin' serious, mate-"

"Thank you, Lemon," you interrupted, turning out of his grip -one hand still on your waist, you doubted he'd let you fully out of his grip, not now. You didn't mind.

"See?" Lemon asked, "-'At so hard, brother? Always liked 'em better, really."

Tangerine paused, jaw tensing as he licked along his teeth, reluctant but his eyes kept darting to you -he softened, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Lemon grinned for a second before he fell rather serious, "-really though, we should leave. 'Give 'em another fifteen minutes to find 'im."

Tangerine pressed his lips together, not moving.

"Seriously," Lemon echoed, "-I know ya expect me to be jokin' but I'm not, I give 'em fifteen minutes."

"Tan," you pushed, eyes meeting his, "-later. We have forever, don't we?"

Something in him softened, eyes dashing across your face, he bit down a smile. Wouldn't dare let Lemon catch him, you assumed.

He seemed to anyway.

"Oh, you are whipped, bro," Lemon retorted with a laugh.

"Don't," Tangerine seethed, "-I'll pound your fuckin' face in, you know 'at? Not another word."

You rolled your eyes, slipping your hand into his. This was your life now, huh?

You flickered over Tangerine practically tackling his brother to the ground, verbally, but his hand still gently wrapped around yours -unaffected.

Maybe that's okay.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine bt oneshot #tan's things #gn!reader #guard dog

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