#𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 ⁑ tangerine

[amorchai]

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏.

this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 8,476 notes.

pairing(s): tangerine x female!reader

words: 1106

warnings/tags: established relationship, female!reader, cussing, slang, mention of a gun.

the search for his keys grow more frustrating and unnecessarily difficult with his own brother chirping in his ear beside him. the loud noise of the keyrings clanking against each other and lemon complaining about the blood on his new tie, tangerine curses the number of keyrings you insist to have, swallowing the key from his grasp.

“will you shut the fuck up? for one minute, man? can’t think straight with your yapping blasting my fucking eardrum!” lemon’s sentence falls short when tangerine snaps, waving his hand dismissively to his brother from behind him.

“i hope you don’t act like that in front of your girl, no?” lemon replies lowly, tangerine tutting as he dwells in the quieter nature. his fingers fumble and finally touch the key to unlock his front door, seconds away from seeing the one person he’s missed the most.

tangerine doesn’t respond to his sentence, sending his brother a look as they enter the opening of his house. kicking off his shoes and nudging off his jacket, tangerine looks to lemon, “you’re lucky i’m letting you sleep here tonight, keep it up and i’ll give you a nice blanket for our fucking doorstep, yeah?”

lemon swings his jacket off his shoulders, clumsily placing it upon the rack which tilts and hits the wall. he cringes, slowly moving it back into place before turning back to his brother who gives him the silent stare.

an ‘are you fucking serious?’ type look which is carried on with his thick accent through, “nah, it’s fine. it’s only three in the fucking morning! course she won’t be asleep, so carry on, bastard.” tangerine’s sarcasm is hinted through his whispered shout, face scrunches with closed fists tightening by his side.

“well if that didn’t wake y/n, your shouting outta do it, brother.” tangerine inhales deeply, trying to control himself before calmly replying with a small, “just get through here, will ya?”. lemon follows tangerine through to the living-room.

the entire house is in darkness except from the low stream of the television, emitting a cold and blue-hued light across the large living-room. “what’s this doing on, eh?” tangerine mutters to himself, a random episode of friends played on the channel which he doesn’t hesitate to click off.

the room turns to pitch black after the television clicks off, the lonely stream of moonlight catching the floorboards through the tiny cracks of the semi-closed blinds. the large window covered. instead, tangerine walks towards the end of the sofa where a lamp lays on the table beside.

he jumps out his skin with a low ‘fuck me! jesus christ!’ when his eyes land on a figure atop the couch. however, tangerine’s expression quickly changes into a softer nature, hand which held his chest in fright drops once he notices who it is.

lemon, who stands behind the sofa, moves his hand away from the gun hiding in his holster from the sudden fright and watches as tangerine places a small smile on his face and walks towards the other end of the sofa.

you lay under a stream of blankets, head atop the array of cushions to make you look cosier than ever. your mouth agape and fingers weakly hold the top hem of the blanket while you sleep, failing from staying up for your boyfriend’s return.

“scared the fuck outta me, love, hm?” tangerine whispers sweetly as he kneels down in front of your figure, a hand reaching up to soothe over your cheek which feels softer and warmer than normal. he can’t help but indulge in the feeling of you back in arm’s length, weeks on a life-threatening job feeling significantly longer as he thought he may never see your face again.

you looked safe and sound, simply well-rested and content which made tangerine’s heart swell at the idea of how easily you trust your man, knowing he would be home and that you won’t ever be in harm’s way. and he would die making sure of that.

“hate to interrupt the reunion, but she’s in my bed for the night.”

normally, tangerine would sigh, normally he would roll his eyes, yell and even swear within every sentence. but the mere feeling of your cheek so soft and the gentle hit of your breath against his wrist, tangerine grin widens while he moves to stand.

“shut the fuck up, will ya?” his sentence sounding annoyed but tangerine far from it while his eyes don’t move from your face, bending forward to move the blankets from you and lift you up and into his large arms.

you squirm at the cold english weather hitting your pyjama-covered state, lulling you out your deep sleep while feeling the warm frame of tangerine’s chest against your arm. “shh, go to sleep, love. i’m home, we’re going to bed,” tangerine starts before you even have a chance to open your eyes.

stopping at the bottom of the steps, he looks to his brother, “bed all set… sweet dreams, darling.” lemon grunts and shakes his head at his brother’s usual sarcasm behind his happy tone, looking down to the warm couch while tangerine guides you both up the stairs.

you grin widely through your tired eyes when you see your boyfriend back in front of you, always scared you might have to hear he won’t come back from his next job. tangerine looks back down to you when you cup his face, saying his name with the happiest smile you could muster in the extra early hours of the morning.

“up for a cuddle in bed, my love?” he flinches when your thumb accidentally pokes his moustache, your thumb gently soothing over it as an apology when you reply, “i always am.” tangerine shakes his head to himself at the sight of you back in front of him, back in his arms and ready to be right up until the next job.

he doesn’t understand his luck. how did a sad little man, intolerant and angry who kills for a living able to find such a kind-heated soul ready to love him in ways he never knew he wanted until you came along. but you saw him for who he was, irretrievably loyal and loving in his own ways.

“i fuckin’ love you, do y’know that?” tangerine asks, stopping at the end of your shared bed as he awaits your answer. you kiss the corner of his mouth, so soft and light but enough to make his head dizzy and knees weak while he chases your lips for a proper kiss in return.

“good thing that i love you then. more than anyone.”

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amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[amorchai]

𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): tangerine x assassin!reader

words: 919

warnings/tags: mutual pining, mention of scissors, pet names, arguing friends to lovers, lemon playing cupid, cursing.

“just let me take over and i’ll pull the fucker open,” tangerine interjects, leaning down to lemon who is currently knelt on the ground trying to pick the wired-shut door to the train bathroom. you patiently waiting, tangerine… not so much.

“if you stop breathing down my neck i would be able to do it,” lemon replies, listening as tangerine huffs angrily before leaning against the train window, shoulder nudging yours. you look at him amused with a small, “just because you have big arms doesn’t mean you’re unstoppable.”

his eyes glare but a small smirk coats under his moustache, “yeah? you think i have big arms, love?” tangerine nods to his folded arms, shirt sleeves rolled up to show the hair and tattoos to his forearms and you try your best not to look.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, sunshine,” you tease back, the nickname he hates that is quite the opposite of him. his jaw clenches at the mention, looking away from you but back to his brother which neither of you notice the agitated state as he pauses with each flirtatious response.

“maybe we could get scissors?” you suggest to him, and lemon nods, his fingers stop fidgeting with the tangled mess. he grunts when he leans back on the balls of his feet, “that could work, actually yeah. tangerine?” lemon consults.

there’s no response and lemon wipes his hands against his trousers before he stands, turning to look at tangerine who seems lost in a daze, you awaiting his response too. lemon reaches over to wave his hand across the vision of tangerine’s disconnected view and you nudge him, “tangerine? lemon asked you a question.”

he snaps back into it, looking up to his brother, to you, and a smirk coats his lips as he looks back to his brother, “sorry, was busy thinking of y/n saying my arms were big. what’d ye say?” both you and lemon huff, lemon raising his hands in frustration before slapping each of his legs, “you know what, i’ve had enough of this ‘will they won’t they’ bullshit—”

“what the fuck—?” before tangerine can interrupt, lemon continues, “spending each and every job to flirt the entire time and forcing me to watch, it’s not cute anymore.” both you and tangerine stare at lemon with wide eyes as he rants, a thick tension coating the air of the unspoken thing being spoken.

“now i’ll go find a pair of scissors, and you better have sorted this whole thing out by the time i’m back,” before lemon leaves, he glares at his brother, “i’m talking to you by the way, you arsehole.”

it’s silent as you and tangerine watch lemon leave the cart, looking back on you both when the automated door shuts over and gesturing to you dramatically. tangerine chuckles awkwardly, looking back to you with a low, “somebody must’ve slipped something into his water, cheeky fucker.”

you watch as tangerine moves, swiftly stepping his feet to stand in front of you, hand anxiously petting his moustache as he avoids your gaze. “yeah, he’s crazy,” you laugh just as awkwardly as he did, unsure of how to act.

but after a beat of silence you’re outwardly thinking, “is he though?” tangerine glances at you, hand dropping to point where lemon had just left, gold rings shining, “what, lemon? yeah he’s fucking mental, talks about trains all day—”

“no, tangerine. you know i meant what he said about us.”

tangerine sighs, processing what you’ve said. there was always something there, always something unspoken and high in tension as you both held off from acting on it and it was all tumbling around due to lemon’s interference.

“no. he’s not.”

you move your gaze back to tangerine who is already looking at you, as if either of you are awaiting further instruction, seeing who acts first. “so, what now?” you ask him, eyes looking at him expectantly and his fleet across your features before letting out a, “fuck it.”

you’re shocked as he steps forward, hands cupping your cheeks and you stop leaning against the wall to move closer to him, his height towering over yours as he leans down to kiss you. your lips squish together easily and he’s hard and impatient.

nudging his head to the side, tangerine makes you feel light-headed by how intense and passionate he’s kissing you, your slight-shaking hands tugging on his fancy vest before reaching for the curly hair at the nape of his neck.

he walks you back a couple of steps, your back meeting the cold glass again as one hand leaves your jaw to rest at the wall beside your head, lips continuing to move against one another, only pulling back for a moment's breath.

tangerine pulls away all too soon for you, you’re out of breath and giggling profusely, resting your forehead against his heaving chest as he finally wears a genuine smile you don’t see often. the hand that was on your cheek moves to the back of your head, fingers rubbing your scalp as you both laugh.

and it dies down and you lift your head back up to look at the man, who leans down to peck your lips once more, interrupted by the smooth sound of the cart door opening, lemon’s voice booming down the room, “fucking finally, jesus christ, man.”

you both pull away to look at tangerine’s brother, who just shows off the scissors in his hand with a grin, “got ‘em.”

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[amorchai]

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