#aaron taylor johnson imagine

[storiesforallfandoms]

the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder;the fall guy

word count: 2869

request?: no

description: in which the big movie star takes interest in the pa of his new movie

pairing: tom ryder x female!reader

warnings: swearing, tom being tom, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

When you were hired as a PA on a major sci-fi blockbuster, you were obviously beyond ecstatic. It was a big deal for many reasons, and it would look great on your resume as the first film you worked on.

What you didn't expect was for your job to essentially become you running after Tom Ryder all the time.

You knew who Tom Ryder was before you were hired on to Metalstorm. Everyone did. His face was on every screen and every poster. But besides knowing him for his work, you were also warned about his work ethic and entitled attitude. You couldn't say you were surprised to hear that. You figured most celebrities of his status were all into themselves. But when you started working with him, you realized it wasn't just his stuck up-ness, it was his lack of work ethic. Truly, you had no idea how any of his movies ever got made.

You didn't agree to work on Metalstorm so you could chase a self obsessed ego maniac around all day and convince him to come do his job. That's now what a PA is meant to do. On the plus side, Jody was very sympathetic and apologetic to you over this. Jody had worked with Tom for years, and had actually been the one to warn you about Tom's behavior. She knew you didn't want to just be a lacky to Tom Ryder, but when Tom's personal assistant was constantly out taking care of his dogs or getting him his super (annoyingly) specific Starbucks order, and everyone else was too busy trying to make a huge blockbuster to do it themselves, the responsibility had to fall to someone.

So, when you arrived on set to see Jody with her head in her hands, a sign that she was stressed, you already knew what was happening.

"He was supposed to be here an hour ago," Jody said, exasperated. "We don't have much time left for this shoot and there's still so much to be done, but he's nowhere to be found."

You looked up at Gail, sipping her usual Diet Coke. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I've already gone to his trailer twice. Each time he said he was on his way to set."

"Clearly he wasn't," you muttered. "I'll go find him."

"(Y/N), no - " Jody started.

"Try to film something with Colt in place of Tom or something," you told her. "I'll get the dickhead to set."

You made off for Tom's trailer. It was incredibly easy to find among the sea of other cast and crew trailers because it was the biggest one. He could probably live out of it if he hadn't gotten a huge apartment to stay in while filming. His name was printed in big, bold letters on the door, as if the size of the trailer alone wasn't enough to signal that it belonged to the star of the movie.

You walked in without knocking, something you'd realize later you might've regretted if you had found Tom in a more...revealing position. Luckily, he was just laying on the trailer couch, a sleep mask over his eyes and AirPods in his ears. He didn't notice you walked into his trailer, so you did something else you'd probably regret: you flicked Tom's forehead to get his attention.

He jumped and ripped off his sleep mask, snapping, "What the fuck?!"

You crossed your arms as his eyes readjusted to the light. He looked up at you and took out a headphone. "What do you want?"

You rolled your eyes. "You, on set, now."

"Gail already came to tell me it was call time. I'll be there in a minute."

"You were meant to be on set an hour ago. There's no more 'minutes', you're coming now."

Tom sat up. "Listen, assistant, I have a very intense process before I start filming that takes time and concentration. Gail already interrupted me, and now that you have as well I'll have to start all over. Tell Jody not to worry a hair on her pretty head, I will be there."

A combination of general frustration with Tom's behavior and the fact that he was dismissing you as just an "assistant" caused you to finally snapped. You grabbed Tom's sleep mask and snatched his headphones from his ears. He protested, but you ignored him as you kicked open his trailer door and chucked the objects as far as you could.

When you turned back to Tom, he was on his feet and he looked furious. But you refused to be intimidated by him.

"You listen to me, Tom Ryder," you said. "I don't give a shit about your stupid fucking pre-filming rituals. What I do give a shit about is this movie, that you're supposed to be the star of. I am sick and tired of chasing you around like a toddle to round you onto set when that is not my job. So, please, get off your ass and do your job."

You turned to leave, but paused to add, "And I'm a PA, not your assistant."

You walked out of his trailer, the frustration slowly starting to evaporate. You didn't think your words were going to have any effect on Tom. If anything, you were sure it would just make him pissed off and he probably wouldn't even come to set at all now. You'd feel worried for your job if you weren't so happy with yourself for finally telling Tom off.

You were planning on how you were going to tell Jody about what happened with Tom when you heard his trailer door open. You turned to see Tom stepping out of the trailer, already dressed in his gold space cowboy outfit which you hadn't noticed before.

He brushed past you, saying, "Let's shoot this fucking thing."

You let out a sigh of relief as you trailed after him.

Tom, luckily, was super professional and fantastic at his job for the remainder of the day. So much so that Jody was literally jumping from her seat to praise the cast, and to show her relief that the day had finally gone well. You were equally thrilled by this because it meant you were finally able to do your actual job.

When Jody finally called it for the day, you were collecting your stuff and noticed someone approaching you. You looked up to see it was Tom. You braced yourself for the verbal berating you were likely about to get.

"Hey," he said. "PA. What's your name?"

You'd be offended if it were anyone else asking. You had been working with Tom for months, so most people would expect that he'd know your name, but considering that he viewed you as just another assistant until hours ago, you weren't shocked that he hadn't deemed you important enough to remember your name.

"(Y/N)," you told him. "And, listen, I'm sorry about what I said earlier - "

"No you're not," Tom cut you off. "That level of verbal smackdown only happens when you've been holding something in for a long time and you've finally had enough. And you're right, I haven't been making things easy for anyone on set this whole filming process."

Was this some sort of joke? Were the cameras still rolling trying to film your reaction? Had you passed out suddenly while filming and now you were dreaming? There was no way that Tom Ryder of all people was admitting to his faults, especially to someone he couldn't even be bothered to learn the name or occupation of until seconds ago.

When you didn't respond, Tom continued on, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Uh...just going back to my hotel room, I guess. Maybe grab a drink with Jody at the hotel bar."

"Change your plans. You're gonna come have a drink with me instead."

It wasn't a question because Tom Ryder didn't have to ask questions. Tom Ryder was used to just smiling at a woman - or at a man honestly - and having them fall to his feet immediately.

So imagine his surprise when you said, "No."

You started to walk away from him, but he quickly moved to follow you. "Uh...maybe you didn't hear me correctly."

"No, I heard you just fine," you said. "The answer is no."

"But...why?"

You stopped walking to turn and face him. "Tom, you are the star of this movie, and I am a production assistant. There are so many levels of not right about me getting drinks with you."

"It's just drinks," he said with a shrug.

"It's a date, and I can't go on a date with you while we're working together."

You turned to walk away from him again. This time, he didn't follow. He watched you go for a while before calling out, "What about when we're not working together?"

You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. "We'll see."

~~~~~~

Weeks later, the filming of Metalstorm came to a close. It have become much less painful on set as Tom was always in costume and on set at the time he was supposed to be, sometimes even earlier. Everyone was so shocked by his sudden change, but no one was going to question it. There was too much left of the movie to be filmed to start bringing attention to the fact that Tom was actually being a professional.

During the last few weeks, Tom did not give up on his pursuit of you. He didn't ask you out again, but he was constantly sending you gifts to remind you that he still wanted to go out with you: flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals. The one that really made you laugh was when you found a magazine with him on the cover, shirtless, in front of your hotel room door.

The last day on set, as everyone was celebrating the end of the shoot and saying their emotional goodbyes, you walked up to Tom and slipped a piece of paper into his hand. When he opened it, he saw your number written on it.

You got a text almost immediately after: "drinks, my place. i'll send a car for you"

You got ready at the hotel, putting on the nicest thing you had packed. You hadn't really packed any dresses or outfits that would be date worthy because you weren't expecting to go on any dates. The closest thing you had was a nice pair of jeans and a short sleeved button up blouse that was white with red and pink flowers on it. It seemed more professional work vibes than date vibes, but that's all you had really prepared for.

You also hadn't packed makeup, not expecting to need any when you were just here for work, so you had to hope Tom wasn't expecting you to show up completely dolled up.

The car he had sent for you showed up around 8pm and took you directly to his apartment. He was waiting for you by the door, also dressed more casually than fancy for a date, so you felt a little relieved.

"Hey," he said when you got out of the car. "You look great."

"Thanks," you said. "Are we, um, staying in for drinks?"

"Yeah, I figure that's probably the better option. Less likely to be surrounded by paparazzi or crazy fans if we just hang out in my place."

Right, that would make sense.

You hadn't really thought about the fact that someone like Tom probably didn't get to go out as much as a normal person would. He hadn't been to any of the Metalstorm cast and crew nights out, but you had chalked that up to him thinking he was too good to go out with everyone else. Maybe it was actually because he felt like he couldn't.

You followed Tom into his apartment. Although, "apartment" was definitely an understatement. The place was bigger than the house you had grown up in, and even had two floors and a rooftop pool. You couldn't help but marvel at everything - the largeness of it, as well as all the film memorabilia Tom had placed on the walls and the shelves. And then you came across the walls covered in sticky notes and found yourself confused.

Tom noticed the look on your face as you stopped to read a few of the notes and laughed. "I like to remember things."

"'Next role: paramedic vampire'?" you read, giving Tom a playful look.

"I think that could be a good role. Imagine a paramedic who is also a vampire, and sometimes they have to struggle with all the blood they're exposed to every day."

"So basically Carlisle Cullen from Twilight?"

"I've never seen those movies so I don't know."

You chuckled as you followed him to the mini bar.

"What do you drink?" he asked. "I have...basically everything."

"Give me a whiskey neat." He raised an eyebrow at you. "I had a lot of hard nights during film school. You learn to enjoy the hard stuff."

He smiled and grabbed you a glass. He filled it halfway with a whiskey that definitely looked very expensive, and then got himself a glass as well. He held his glass up to you, and you tapped yours against his.

"What are we toasting to?" you asked him.

"To the movie finally wrapping so I could take you on a date."

You couldn't help but smile as you took a sip of your whiskey.

"There's something I have to ask you before we move forward, though," you said. Tom leaned against the island between you two and motioned for you to continue. "When did you and Iggy stop dating? I mean...obviously you've stopped dating...right?"

Tom chuckled. "Would I have asked you on a date if we hadn't?"

"I don't know how you big hot shot celebrity couples do relationships. Maybe you guys are like...open? I don't know."

"We're not, and we're not together. We broke up just before Metalstorm started filming."

You winced. "That's rough."

"That's acting. You can't just throw away a whole role because you have to act alongside your ex. Besides, it was mutual, and now she's dating Jason Momoa."

"And you're on a date with the PA from Metalstorm."

Tom gave you a look. "Don't say that as if it's a downgrade or something. I like you, that's all that matters."

You were speechless. This was the most sincere you had ever heard Tom be. Usually he was yelling or cursing on set because he felt like the take he did was awful, or he was annoyed by the Australian heat in his shiny gold costume. You had no idea that Tom Ryder had a softer side of him. Actually, you weren't sure anyone knew that.

You and Tom eventually moved from the car to the couch in his lounge. He turned on a movie ("I promise it won't be my own", he had joked) and the two of you sat close but not close enough to be touching. Tom had his arm across the back of the couch behind you, just begging for you to lean into him. You'd keep inching closer every so often until finally your side was pressed against his, and you were able to rest your head on his shoulder.

You couldn't help but think about how surprised you were with how quickly things had changed these last few weeks. For a majority of filming, you had basically hated Tom. You thought he was egotistical and annoying. You never would've thought you'd be on a date with him once filming had wrapped. Sure, you thought he was attractive. Anyone with eyes could see that. But you didn't think he would ever see you as someone to go on a date with, let alone that you would have agreed if he asked.

At some point during the movie, Tom shifted and moved away from you. You looked up at him, confused, to find him already looking down at you.

"I really want to kiss you," he admitted.

"What's stopping you?" you asked.

The answer was nothing, because once the words were out of your mouth Tom was cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. It was one of those magical kisses that people in TV shows and movies always talk about. The ones where they say you feel a spark and you see stars. You didn't want it to end.

But eventually you had to pull away for air. You looked up at Tom, who now had a small grin on his face.

"I suppose there's no chance you'd want to stay over?" he asked.

You really wanted to say yes, but you knew you shouldn't. You weren't the type of person to put out on the first date, and you knew there was a huge risk of that happening if you stayed at Tom's for the night.

So, you sighed and shook your haed.

"Thought so," Tom said. "I'll just have to get enough kissing in before I have to let you go."

You giggled as he leaned in to kiss you again.

[sadesluvr]

Turbulence

You join the mile-high club with a mysterious English gentleman. 

A/N: First BT fic! Been obsessed with this movie, and just had to make something with one of our favourite assassins. I had to do a weird amount of research on flying for this... It won’t be my last so follow for more! :)

Set pre movie. 

Word count: 2.5K 

Tags: SMUT / Porn with little plot / Minor spoilers for references in Bullet Train (2022) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Hookups / Mentions of birth control / Quickies / Canon-typical language / Canon-typical banter / Minors + Ageless blogs DNI

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 4B7 to Tokyo. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately five minutes time. At this time, we ask you to please fasten your seatbelts and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. I’m Goldie, and thank you for choosing our airline. Enjoy your flight!” 

Hanging the speaker up, you smoothed out your skirt as you fixed yourself to take the final walk before take-off. ‘Goldie’ wasn’t your real name of course, but a nickname given to you by a sleazy boss. You would’ve hated it, but you found that it greatly helped with creepy passengers who were searching for a place in the coveted ‘mile high club’, or those who simply flew with the intention of sleeping with flight attendants across the world. On the contrary, it was always cute when toddlers cooed your name from across the plane, calling for you as if you’d known them their entire life.  

As you pushed past the curtain to the business class, your eyes fell on a pair of men; one dark-skinned with curly dyed hair, the other with long, slicked back hair and a moustache. They wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary had the moustached man not been holding a phone to his ear. Great. There was always at least one person who never listened to the announcements, but there was something about those who rode in first or business class that held a different kind of entitlement entirely. 

Swallowing, you put on your best customer service and sauntered over to them. The dark-skinned man noticed you first, raising his brows before nudging the one next to him, who seemed deep into an important, but strained, conversation. 

“...Yeah, yeah. We get the kid and the briefcase, then the train to Kyoto...Yes, we know who we’re dealing with, I forwarded Lemon the briefing. Right, can we go now? Take-offs in two minutes --” 

“Excuse me,” you cut in. “You’re going to need to hang that up...” 

The man did a double take, holding his phone away from his ear as he glanced up at you. If it wasn’t his old English accent that captivated you, it was his eyes, a striking blue with hints of grey that seemed to stare directly into your soul.  

“I’m going now.” He said snarkily to the person on the phone before hanging up, placing the object into the pocket of his navy-blue suit before staring up at you with a charming, but cheeky smile. 

“My apologies darlin’,” he said, his voice as smooth as butter. “Work won’t give us a break.”  

“Don’t I know it?” you replied, shifting your weight as you prepared to move on. “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your flight...” you said before looking down at his hands; strong and adorned with gold rings.  

“...Nice watch.” You finished with a knowing smile. Given the parts of the broken conversation you’d heard, and the elaborate way they were dressed, you figured that they were at least some kind of secret service members - not that it was any of your business, of course. Still, there was something particularly arousing about the blue-eyed man in the three-piece navy suit with the nice watch, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you broke your ‘no-sex-on-the-job’ rule, just this once. If he wasn’t busy with mission stuff, of course. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He replied, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, watching you as you walked off, admiring the questionably short length of your skirt in the process. Sitting back in his seat, he chuckled to himself before turning to see his brother Lemon hastily swiping through the movie selection on the screens. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

“Tryin’ to see if they’ve got Thomas...” Lemon said matter-of-factly. “It’s alright though. I always come prepared.” he finished, tapping his laptop pointedly. Tangerine frowned, shaking his head as he sat back in his seat, side eyeing you as you made your way to your jumpseat in the corner.  

It was going to be a long journey, but at least he had a nice view. 

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

As soon as it had been safe to take seatbelts off, you’d wasted no time in making your way back down to the business area. The best part about the job was that you were able to walk about, getting a good glimpse at the passengers you thought were attractive – all under the guise of providing good customer service. The man with watch was reading a book, whilst the other seemed engrossed with whatever was on the screen, with his fingers covering his face in a concerned manner. They seemed like polar opposites, yet seemed to work so well together, something that made your job a lot easier when it came to seating passengers. If only everyone was like them. 

If it hadn’t been obvious, you were rather interested in the blue-eyed gentleman in particular. Whilst he hadn’t given you definite signs he was interested, you fixed your make up in your compact mirror regardless, and opened a button on your blouse so it was just a little lower than industry guidelines. It never hurt to try, and it certainly wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. 

Smiling, you guided a cart down the narrow aisles, stopping at the pair of men. 

“Refreshments?” 

The dark-skinned man, ‘Lemon’, as he had been referred to, answered first, eagerly pausing his screen to speak to you. 

“I’d love somethin’, love,” he said, holding the same accent as his partner. “D’ya have anything fizzy?” 

“Of course,” you hummed. “We have Coke – regular, Diet and Zero, Dr Pepper, Sprite, some SanPellegrino --” 

“I’ll have a Coke, love. Make it Diet...” he said, and you nodded, quickly finding the box for the right can. “It’s a shame ya don’t do any bubble milk tea up here...I got a real craving for one...” 

You laughed as you handed him the can. “Luckily for you Tokyo is full of great places to get one. You probably could even find one in their vending machines...Don’t get those in the West, do you?” 

“Certainly not in London,” he chuckled, opening the can and taking a swig before pursing his lips and tapping a finger on his chin. “Say, I don’t suppose you could settle a little argument for me, could you?”  “Oh here we go...” the other man interjected, drawing himself from his book to huff and look between the two of you. “Fucking unbelievable.” 

Lemon rolled his eyes.  

“That SanPellegrino of yours...Which flavour do you sell the most?” 

You bit your lip. 

“Depends...It’s usually lemon because people think it might taste like lemonade. The orange one never goes to waste, though...” 

Lemon gave the other man a pointed look, and he scoffed before looking at you. 

“Not to completely waste your time, love, but if you had to choose between a lemon or a tangerine...” he didn’t finish, probably because it would’ve pained him to, and moved his hands as if he were balancing weights on scales.  

You stared blankly between the two men, confused but utterly endeared. 

“Tangerines are good on their own, but lemons are far more versatile...”  “See?” Lemon said triumphantly, celebrating with himself before shaking your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, darlin’.” He grinned before restarting his movie, moving on as if nothing had happened. You chuckled to yourself, conscious of the hundred other guests that needed you, but looked back to lock eyes with the other man, ready to ask him the same question. He wore a knowing smirk on his face, the curve of his pink lips still evident under his thick moustache and tutted chidingly. 

“Really thought you’d be on my side there, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Suppose you can’t trust everyone, can you?” 

“I’m sorry,” you pouted. “You must give it to him though. Lemons are pretty good.” 

“Darlin’ I don’t have a problem with the message, but the messenger,” he said, nodding to the man next to him. “He’s a grown arse lad watching Thomas, that one.” 

You chuckled, glimpsing at the screen to see that it was indeed correct. Shaking your head, you scanned the crafted features of his face before raising a brow. 

“So, what’s your poison?” 

“A gorgeous lady pushing a cart, it seems.” 

“Smooth,” you hummed, unable to ignore the way a dangerous heat shot through your stomach and down to your core, making your legs feel like jelly. He’d hardly done anything, and yet you were under his spell. “What would you like to drink?” 

“Nothin’ at the moment, love,” he grinned. “I’m a bit peckish, if anythin’...” 

Sighing, you quickly checked the man out again, this time eyeing his body. Broad shoulders, muscular thighs, thick legs...The total package.  

“Hurry, up! I’m thirsty!” Someone from across the aisles said. The man was about to argue, but you halted him, nodding in the direction where the voice came from.  

“I tell you what,” you said softly, lowering your voice as you stared into his eyes, your composure so controlled that it would’ve been impossible to tell that your heart was pounding in your chest as you spoke. “-- Us staff have our own snacks. If you meet me by the toilets in fifteen, I can get you some...” 

“Don’t leave me hangin’, sweetheart.” The man grinned, not-so subtly uncrossing his legs and giving a cheeky wink before you headed off down the aisle. Gripping onto the handle of the cart, you tried your hardest to walk straight, excitement boiling in your loins as you counted down those fifteen crucial minutes with every strained smile at a customer. 

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

He was there when you arrived. 

“Took ya’ long enough -” was all he said before cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a passionate kiss, pressing your body against the wall of the bathroom. It was by far the most glamorous place to have sex, but there was something about the sleaziness of it all (with such a put-together man, nonetheless) that made it that more enticing. His scent was an ode to his masculinity; aromatic and woody, and it consumed you as he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone as his large hands caressed the sides of your body. You moaned, writhing your front against his pelvis, desperate to feel the outline of his erection against your own. Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with your hands, settling to drape them around his neck in fear of messing up his hair. He seemed like a man who took pride in his appearance, and he certainly wasn’t going to be able to fix it up in an airplane bathroom. 

“Feel me, darling. I don’t bite...” he whispered, his hands now sliding between your thighs as he fought to push your panties to the side. You took this as a hint, and you combed your fingers through his roots with one hand, whilst the other fumbled to undo the button on his trousers, difficult to do with his considerable bulge. You let out a broken gasp as you felt his cock, likely over average sized with a nice girth, and he shuddered in response. 

“Goldie, is it? You’re a naughty one...” he sighed, slipping a finger into your wet cunt. 

“Mhmmm,” you crooned. “’S nickname. I don’t suppose you’ll give me yours?” 

“You’re a bright bird, ‘m sure ya figured it out.” 

“Tangerine, huh?” you hummed, throwing your head back as he began to finger fuck you, his gold rings adding the extra girth that would prepare you nicely for his cock. “I like tangerines...” 

“Ya didn’t seem to back there.” 

“Well, give me a reason to...” you chuckled, and he grinned, grunting before he hoisted your leg up around his waist, his cock dangerously near your entrance. 

“Better be quick,” you teased, staring at him through your lashes. “They’ll get suspicious if I’m not back in five.” 

Tangerine chuckled.  

“I can do that. Just know it’s not a reflection of me at my best.” he sniffed. 

“Good to know.” 

Your words were unfounded as he pushed into you, his girth filling you completely as you moulded perfectly around his cock, gripping onto his shirt as he began to buck his hips. The man grunted, accosting himself to the feel of your warm, wet hole – raw and unfiltered, sighing into the nape of your neck as he fucked you. He steadied himself with his hands, gripping onto your thigh with one as the other rested above you, lending him the luxury of staring into your eyes as he drilled you. 

“God...” you panted, your lips wet and raw from his kisses. “T-Tan -- You’re so good...” 

“That’s it, love,” he beckoned, words rolling off his tongue like honey as he rolled his hips deeper into you. “Say my name...” 

“Tangerine...” you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you drowned out the vacuum-like ambience around you, focusing on the small grunts and sweet nothings the man whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending chills up your spine. The room around you was making a slight creaking sound, and you barely even cared that your calf was banging slightly against the door.  

With every passing second his thrusts became more focused, solely intended to bring you both to that point of ecstasy- yet you didn’t doubt that Tangerine was the kind of man who made sure you finished, even if he himself didn’t.  

His hair was beginning to become undone now, brown strands falling in front of his face, just barely clouding his vision, but enough to make him look even hotter. Both of your shirts became more and more dishevelled as he pressed up against you, the muffled sound of his clothed thigh against your bare ones becoming more frequent as he growled, the sound coming from deep within his muscular chest. 

“Fucking hell, darlin’...’M gonna make a mess...” he hissed through laboured breaths. “I’ve gotta pull out --” 

“It’s alright,” you lulled, and you could’ve sworn that his cock twitched at the phrase. “I’m on the pill...” 

“You naughty girl...You’re gonna get me in trouble --” he groaned, throwing his head back as he gave you a few fast and sloppy pumps, shutting his eyes as you clamped down on him during your own release, creaming around his cock as he filled you with his own. You dug your nails into his clothes as you rode off your respective highs, hair and clothes askew as he rubbed small circles your trembling leg before lowering it to the ground. 

Panting, there was a brief silence as you dressed yourselves, with Tangerine preening himself in the tiny mirror. 

“You look good as gold.” You said with a smirk, fixing your hat.  

“Thanks,” he said with a broad smile, popping some gum into his mouth as he looked you up and down. “You’re a dime a dozen, y’know? Fly this route often?” 

“Sometimes,” you hummed, opening the door so that the sign no longer read ‘occupied’. “Why, are you thinking of coming back?” 

“I’ll be headed to Kyoto,” he said, looking around before he stepped out. “Maybe I’ll catch you there.” 

“Yeah,” you grinned, fixing the final button on your shirt. He’ fucked you so good you could barely even remember what your next journey was. “Maybe.” 

[padsmoony04]

[sebsbarnes]

too sweet || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that.

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: requested by @whimsical-roasting inspired by lyrics from hozier's new song too sweet :)

masterlist

tangerine was harsh, uninviting. rigid and stern. he wasn't one to make small talk with the store clerk or mutter a hello to the person walking past him on the street. that was him, and he was unapologetically himself. he didn't care nor did he want to be that person who was over-joyous to strangers, it didn't entice him. what would he gain from exposing pieces of himself? he becomes vulnerable and that wasn't a word tangerine would ever describe himself as.

you were warm, inviting. gentle and kind. you were one to chat with the store clerk and greet the person walking past on the street. that was you, unapologetically yourself. you wanted to be that person who engaged with strangers whenever possible. you would gain so much from sharing and exchanging pieces of yourself with others. you felt secure.

tangerine faults himself for breaking that day he met you. he often wonders why his eyes cast a glance at you, but they did and that simple movement upturned his life.

it was a long day, a day from hell, actually. tangerine was exhausted from work and found himself dragging his feet home. his head screamed in pain, his throat felt tight from dehydration, and his stomach was practically eating itself. the flickering neon light of the convenience store caught his attention and the metal bell announced his arrival in the store. he wandered to the drink cooler and stuffed his arms with anything that sounded appealing. tangerine wanted a real dinner but unfortunately that night the snack aisle would be a five-star meal.

"you can never go wrong with these," a voice spoke and tangerine saw a pointing hand come into his field of vision. he mumbled under his breath some sort of 'thank you' and grabbed the bag of crackers.

that's when he looked over. that's when he saw you. that's when tangerine's normal hard exterior soon chiseled away in your presence. he felt his shoulders relax and he stopped gritting his teeth when you looked back at him and smiled.

"if you want something more hardy they got killer snacks up at the register. i'll admit i'm almost a regular here because of them. it's a bit embarrassing but the workers are really cool," tangerine stood there and listened to you talk. he liked the way your lips pulled up into a smile and how animated your face became. perhaps it was the pure exhaustion from the day that wore him down and made him engage in a conversation with you, or maybe it was just your warm presence.

it wasn't long after that night in the convenience store that tangerine ran into you again. he didn't see you at first but rather heard you. your booming voice and infectious laugh carried its way over to him. he was on a walk, an exercise he enjoyed, when the breeze carried you to him. he paused on the sidewalk and in some measly attempt to stall, tangerine re-stretched his legs until you came closer.

'hey! i remember you, how were those snacks?"

tangerine pretended to be caught off guard at first before responding, "pretty fuckin' good, i can't lie."

"told you!" you laughed with a wave goodbye.

tangerine found himself cemented to the sidewalk watching the back of your head disappear into the day, your arms flailing as you spoke to the friend beside you, and your voice slowly drifting away.

this would keep happening, tangerine running into you in public every few days in different places. it confused him a bit, to the point he almost considered that you were some spy out to get him and his arm would subconsciously drift to the knife in his pocket. each time he would stop himself when you began to talk about the most mundane things and share little anecdotes about yourself with him, like how last night you burnt your dinner and ate a whole bag of wonton strips you found in the back of your pantry from a recipe you cooked a year ago or how earlier that day you stepped in dog poop and didn't realize until you tracked it into the store. tangerine loved hearing you overshare and how kind you treated him even when he was a stranger.

in the months to come you and tangerine turned these random run-ins into deliberate meetings. at the park, at the movies, at a restaurant, at his home. you would notice the glances from people when tangerine stood beside you or the raised brow when tangerine was short with conversation while you talked the person's ear off.

"i know i'm not the friendliest but at least i don't grimace in people's faces," tangerine chided.

you tsked, running a hand up and down his bicep, "oh tang, don't mind them. they just don't know you like i do."

but he did start to mind how others perceived him after the two of you started dating. most people knew how outgoing and sweet you were, but tangerine didn't want to taint the image of you with him by your side. he didn't want people to start believing you were also this cold, stern, person. you couldn't even be if you tried. not only this but he felt guilty hiding his job from you. had you been aware you wouldn't be with him. each day you prioritized the happiness of others and never acted with malice, he was the stark contrast. he hated how he was beginning to love the sweetness.

it was late, 3am to be exact, and the two of you were lying in bed. your legs wrapped around tangerine and his head propped up on the satin. the tv cast a glow onto the bed, the array of colors illuminating your skin. it was an action movie. fast-paced, big cars, bad people, and drugs. your hand was placed on tangerine's cheek, the small digit of your thumb caressing the empty space below his eye. a gun sounded and your body jolted, eyebrows pulled together at the sight of the body falling to the ground.

"that's so scary. i can't believe there are people out there who want to hurt others," you sighed.

tangerine stiffened. he could hear the beat of his heart drumming in his ears and the way his hands became clammy. he watched as the main character aimed his gun at another person and pulled the trigger with no hesitation. that was him. he was watching himself and without you even knowing, you were also watching him. who he really was.

"why's your heart beating so fast. you a lil scaredy cat hm?" you joked rubbing your palm on his chest.

tangerine stifled a fake laugh, "just gettin' nervous for him," he winced at how pitiful his excuse was but you didn't seem to catch on.

he felt sick. you were too sweet for him, like grapes at the bottom of a barrel, aging into a sweet wine. he was foul-mouthed, hot-headed, impolite, and dangerous. he wasn't meant for you, didn't deserve you. he only ever knew the bold and strong taste of a black coffee or a neat whiskey. he wasn't used to the sweet flavor.

[queers-gambit]

The Blood of the Covenant

prompt: ( requested ) being raised alongside the Twins, you naturally fell on path to become a contract killer - much to Tangerine's chagrin. when you're recruited onto the Bullet Train, too, emotions cum into play - get it?

pairing: Tangerine x female!assassin!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.4k+

note: this isn't very good, i'm very sorry.

warnings: codename Olive 'cause it's cute, cursing, Lord's name in vain, mild spoilers, AU timeline (obviously), Tan is still Aaron, Lem is still Brian, emotional confessions, mild depiction of violence, very short and poorly written smut, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, needles / weaponized venom [The Hornet], and dead bodies.

"So, you get on the train, you find the Twins, and you get off - it's easy," Constance, your handler, scolded through the phone. "Seriously, why are you so nervous? It's like the most lowkey job you've ever been assigned."

"Yeah, you're just forgetting the part where I have to locate some generic looking briefcase on this God forsaken train, make sure they have the White Death's son, then get them all off - "

"Okay, see, now you're making it all complicated," Constance laughed again. "C'mon, Olive, tell me the truth."

"What truth?"

"You're nervous," she sang in your ear.

"No shit, I'm nervous!" You snapped, connecting the bluetooth device and shoving your phone in your pocket as the train jetted into the station. "Do you have a good reason I shouldn't be?"

"Um, how about the fact that you guys grew up in the orphanage together, making you practically family, and that they're gonna be overjoyed to see you?"

"Yeah, right!" You laughed, "You don't know the guys, and it's been, like, 4 years since I've seen them. They're scary overprotective and if they know what I'm doing professionally, they'll probably handcuff me to one of them and deliver me to some nunnery."

"Are those even a thing anymore?"

"Fuck if I know," you snorted.

"You're overthinking, Olive, just breathe," she advised. "Look, the intel is good. The White Death is up to something and if you wanna see the Twins alive, you need to get them off the train."

"Cool, so fuck the case and the son?"

"Nope, you wanna get paid, you gotta grab them, too."

You sighed, the train doors opening. "Well, here goes fucking nothing..."

"I've literally never heard you this nervous, it's kinda cute."

"Constance, is there a reason we're still on the phone?" You asked, nodding at the people you passed and excusing yourself as you searched the train cars slowly.

"I wanna hear how this goes!"

"Call you when I have the payloads, 'mmkay?"

"No," she whined, "c'mon, lemme hear the reunion!"

"Goodbye, Constance, as always, you're a giant pain in my ass."

"Oh, like you're a basket of roses. Fine, go, deprive me of this. Fucking killjoy!"

"Talk soon - and if not, I'm probably shot."

"Well, just... Don't get shot?"

"Spot-on advice, love."

"You'd be lost without me."

"Bye, you idiot."

"Seriously, don't get shot!"

Disconnecting the call, you chuckled to yourself and dodged around a family. However, right behind them was a man in a bucket hat and thick black framed glasses carrying a silver briefcase, who bumped your shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am," he instantly apologized in English.

"No worries," you smiled, nodding at him. "Have a nice ride."

"You, too," he nodded back, and you turned to continue on your way, missing the way the man eyed you - and gulped when he caught sight of the gun in your waistband. He scurried on his way.

You entered another train car, pausing to take a long breath as you surveyed the patrons. You moved onto the next section, the train rocketing into motion. However, as you approached the next set of doors, you gasped and skirted to a halt when two men lingered in the connection.

"Oh - what the bloody fuck are you doing here!?" Aaron snapped instantly.

"Well, hello to you, too, love," you grumbled with a curled lip.

"Hi, doll!"

You grinned at Brian, greeting him with enthusiasm; offering a giant hug, him kissing your cheek noisily. "So good to see you," you told him when you pulled back.

"Tan," Brian snapped, glaring at him as he gestured at you. "C'mon, mate, don't be like this - 's been years!"

"Yeah, Tan," you pouted dramatically.

"You even know what Tan stands for?" Brian snickered.

"Nope."

"Tangerine," then he pointed at himself, "Lemon."

Aaron's blue eyes rolled, sighing deeply before nodding. "Right, right, c'mere, then, you," he opened his arms, and when you stepped into his embrace, you swear, it was like returning home. After a beat, you felt his arms tighten and his nose press into your neck, subtly inhaling; making you give him a tighter squeeze.

"Oh, Jesus, all right, c'mon, I'm standing right here," Lemon groaned, you and Tan parting, but only saddling beside him with his arm around your neck and yours anchored around his waist.

"So," you chirped, shifting your body weight, "you two have the case, I assume? And the Son - "

"Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' joking," Tangerine snapped, glaring at you as you grinned mischievously. "How's it you know about any of that?"

"She's on assignment, felt the gun when I hugged her," Lemon snickered as if it were common knowledge. "How long you've been working, love? Why didn't you ring us? Talk to us 'bout this?"

"I needed to?"

"No, but just for a bit of a catch-up?" Lemon shrugged. "You know, tell us you're doin' some dangerous job instead of teaching? Aren't you supposed to be a teacher now?"

"This pays better."

"Not gonna get paid a single dime, the fuck's wrong with you?" Tan snapped, dropping the arm from your neck to round on you in anger. "You're seriously on a job?"

"Mhm," you hummed with a smile. "And why won't I see a dime, exactly?"

"'Cause you're not doin' this fuckin' job, love, for fuck's sake!"

"Tan, just calm down," Lemon sighed, holding a hand to him as the man with a pornstache paced in a small circle; wiping a hand around his mouth. "Love? What's the job you're on?"

"Mh," you nodded, "well, 's a bit unprofessional to tell you, but fuck it. I'm to collect the case, grab the White Death's son, and get you two off this fucking train."

"Oh - for fuck's - "

"Tan!" Lemon laughed. "Mate, take a breath! She's obviously qualified if she's made it this far, got this assignment."

You grinned, "You ever hear rumors about that shit that went down in Medellín?"

"Don't tell me," Lemon gasped. "That was you?"

"Most of it wasn't intentional, but I'm pretty good at improvising," you teased. "Anyways, I heard about Bolivia, you two are certainly making names for yourselves, aren't yah?"

"Well," Lemon smiled bashfully, waving you off.

"Right, so, we're approaching the next station," you pointed out, clasping your hands in front of you and smiling, "so, where's the Son?"

"Oh, uh, up there," Lem pointed to the next train car.

"Mhm, good, good, good, and the case?" There was an awkward silence as Lemon and Tangerine exchanged long looks. "Hey? Where's the case, Brian - I mean, Lemon?"

"Well, uh... Funny thing, yeah?" He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Tan? Sweetheart?" You smiled prettily, reaching for his hand to halt his pacing, "Where's the case?"

"It's..." Tan trailed, seeing Lemon shaking his head vigorously from behind you. He sighed when he met your sweet eyes and admitted, "It got lifted, love."

"Oh, you fuckin' simp," Lemon groaned.

"What? Wanted me t'lie? She's got that sixth sense for that shit, mate!" Tangerine defended.

"No, you're just whipped!"

"She's looking for the same bloody case, she'd know eventually!"

You let go of Tan's hand to answer your ringing phone, holding a finger to them both, "Hey, Constance, now's not a great time."

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing, just reuniting with the lads," you eased. "I'll call you when we have the case and kid, and are off the train, all right? And if I don't - "

"Yeah, yeah, you're shot. Fine, just..." She sighed. "Listen, you three aren't the only ones on assignment."

"Hmm?" You perked your brows.

"Yeah, so, Maria's got an agent in the field. Also, I just got intel that the Wolf's there, no idea why. The Hornet, too."

"You're fuckin' joking, right?"

"Nope. They popped up on our travel itineraries. They used pseudonyms naturally, but we have their records."

"Fuck me, all right... All right, yeah, we'll handle it."

"No, don't handle anything! Remember Rome!?"

"Rome wasn't my fault!" You snapped, taking a deep breath. "But it did piss the Hornet off, we'll be careful."

"Get off the fucking train, Olive!"

"When the packages are secured, love, yeah, all right, gotta go, bye-bye now!"

"Olive - "

You hung up and put your phone in your back pocket, sighing at the Twins. "Well, this just got more interesting. We aren't the only ones on this job," you frowned.

"What?" Lem's face dropped.

"Wait, what happened in Rome?" Tangerine asked, offering you his signature look of annoyance: a frown and pinched brows.

"Oh, nothing that was my doing," you waved off. "So, to recap, the case is missing, but the Son is secured?"

"Zip tied to his seat," Lemon nodded.

"Mhm, and where was the case?"

"I had it stashed, but..." He eyed the luggage tossed around the compartment.

"Now, it's gone. Okay, okay," you nodded, "so, just for future reference, don't stash the goods, all right? Terribly unprofessional, darling."

"Yeah," he nodded sadly.

"Oh, so when she says it - "

"She doesn't get all smart with me!" Lemon cut Tangerine off with a warning finger as he paced in the compartment. "The fuck do we do? We just passed the station - the fucker could've gotten off - I mean!"

"Easy," you spoke softly, but the panic was set between the two. You sighed when Lemon turned frantic, leaning back on the wall as Tangerine stood beside you.

"No, no, look, we got his son," Lemon reminded. "That was our job."

Tangerine shared a look with you, making you chide, "Stay calm. You get nowhere bein' so up-tight." His expression melted into something close to reprimanding, but he sighed and faced Lemon.

"Our job was to come back with his son and his $10 million. Three words to describe our situation right now, do you know what they are?"

Lemon glared, "Sure do." Then held up three fingers, dropping one for each word, "Saved - his - son. Hmm? Family's more important than money, right?"

"Do you honestly not know who the White Death is?"

"Yeah, I know who the White Death is. You just told me five minutes ago," Lemon snipped, making you sigh as he rambled an explanation.

"Why do I even bothering forwarding you the briefings?" Tan interrupted, exasperated by the entire ordeal.

There was a pause and Lemon replied softly, almost sheepishly, "I do not know. You get briefings, love?"

"Mhm, but my handler likes giving me the CliffNotes," you eased with a small shrug.

When Tangerine turned from you two to face the train's door, staring out the window, you and Lemon shared a look - his hand raising as if to wave off Tan's theatrics. In return, you just held a placating hand to him, letting Tangerine start his story about the White Death. When he got through his tale, he took a long breath, sighing deeply, musing as he turned back to you both, "So, let me put this bluntly. There's this soulless, psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet," then his hands dramatically gestured, "shoved right inside our fucking arse cheeks."

Lemon stared at his partner and then, too, mused, "That motherfucker's definitely a Diesel, then, isn't he?"

"You mention Thomas the Tank Engine one more time, I'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face," Tangerine snapped.

"No, no, he won't, Brian," you stepped in, standing between the two, glancing between them.

"'S Lemon when on the job, love."

"All right, sure, my apologies, Lemon," you agreed, "but he's not gonna shoot you." Lemon hummed and pointed at you in triumph, mocking Tangerine, making you scold, "No, don't do that, either. Your attitude gets us nowhere, right, lads?"

Lemon nodded at you before looking to Tan, asking, "Okay, okay, if-if-if-if he's such a badarse, how come he hired three random operators instead of getting his son back himself?"

"I wasn't hired by the White Death," you smiled, reaching a hand to Tangerine's to hold tightly when you saw his fuse about to blow. "And, you see, he had a wife, Lem."

"What? He had a wife?"

"Yeah," you nodded, ignoring Tan's impending meltdown, "and she was the most important thing in his life, and she died in a car crash. Some reports say it was an accident, some drunk driver... And others say it was an assignation attempt." You missed the look Tangerine sent you, looking you up and down, relating to the 'most important thing' comment. "But since then, he's not left the compound," you finished.

"An unnamed locomotive might say there's a lesson to be learned," Lemon quipped, irritating Tangerine.

"And you know what? He didn't hire three - or two," Tan amended, nodding at you, "random operators, Lemon. No, he asked for the best. He asked for the two responsible for the Bolivia job. He asked for pros, who wouldn't fuck up... Three words, Lemon, and now, you, too, sweetheart," he sneered at you. "We - are - "

"Fucked," Lemon finished.

"Oi, listen here, you two Debbie Downers, Christ, all right? Every situation can be remedied," you assured. "Yeah, this is - this isn't ideal, but between us three, we can figure something out. Yeah? Talkin' about you two bein' the best," you squeezed Tan's hand, "surely we can figure something out. C'mon, when do we give up?"

Lemon cocked his head, asking, "All right. Yeah, sure, but what's your codename? Can't go 'round callin' you your government. Would blow our covers."

"Olive," you smiled brightly, Tangerine scoffing. "Fuck off," you snapped instantly.

"Right, well, Olive's right," Lemon deflected, not giving Tan time to retort. He reached out to adjust Tan's suit lapel and tie, "We rescued his fucking son. Huh? We find the fucker who took the briefcase, make things right, be like it never happened," he laid out for you two, and when you tired to release his hand, Tangerine held on tighter - not letting you go.

Tangerine took a deep breath in, letting it out as he pulled out his gun with his free hand, flipping it open, checking the full round of bullets present, and snapping it closed before storing it again. He glanced at you before asking Lemon, "Still got that vest on yah?"

"No, vests give you a false sense of security," Lemon answered. "You might, like, get shot in the neck."

"Yeah, it also stops you from getting shot in the chest, but I guess you missed that episode of Thomas, did'yah?" Tan quipped, not letting Lemon time to answer because he looked at you again. "Bein' said, you are gonna stay put, doll face."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"Heard me," he snapped. "You're sitting this one out."

"I don't remember being hired by you," you dropped his hand to cross your arms. "You don't get a say in what I do - this isn't like back in the group home where you two bossed me 'around, playin' big brother."

"It's exactly like that, 'cause we've been doin' this a helluva lot longer - "

"And I was still hired to do this job, so, I suggest you shut the fuck up and watch yourself."

"I'm tryna keep you safe!"

"We're not children anymore, Aaron!" You snapped. "You don't get to dictate what I do anymore! Christ, all right? I was hired for this job, just like you two, so you can either get with the program and we work together, or just shut the fuck up - 'cause I'm not sitting a Goddamn thing out!"

"Jesus fuck, could cut the sexual tension between you two with a fucking plastic spoon." Lemon scoffed, rolling his eyes; earning two identical glares for either of you. "Fine, whatever, keep denying whatever this is - but look, you two done?" Lemon sighed, and when you nodded, he nodded back. "Right - nut up or shut up, bruv."

You went to follow Lemon out, but Tan snagged your arm before you got a step too far. He kept you at his side, laying your arm in the crook of his, and in-sync, he and Lemon fluffed their outerwear as you three stalked up the train aisle. You licked the pad of your thumb and wiped a bit of grime from the corner of Tan's mouth, his smirk directed at you as you approached the Son secured in his seat.

"Well, so, slight change of plans," Tan announced when you reached the seating. Lemon reached out to alert the seemingly sleeping Son, but the movement of his shoulder caused the lad's head to lull towards you three - making each of you recoil instantly.

"Oh!" You three groaned in union, seeing the rivers of blood streaming down the Son's eyes. He was dead as a doornail, some would say.

You stood watch as Tan and Lem leaned in closer to observe the dead body, Lemon commenting, "First his wife, now his son? That's a lot of white deaths."

Tangerine took a deep breath in, you reaching out to squeeze his elbow. "Sit down," you hissed quietly, "before you draw attention to us standing around a fucking corpse!"

"You're on watch!" Tan shot back.

"Can't do shit if you two are just staring at him! Fuck's sake, sit! You're so suspicious, aren'y you meant to be an agent?"

You pushed Lemon into the seat next to the Son and then Tan into the seating beside the window so you could claim the outside seat beside him. "We gotta disguise the body," Tan whispered, whipping out his handkerchief. You watched him dab the material to his tongue, reaching across to start cleaning the blood while Lemon looked around for anything to help.

"Hang on, hang on," he rushed, Tan pausing when a souvenir cart was approaching and pushing the lad's head towards the window. "Could we get a pair of them glasses, please?" He asked the kind attendant. "They look real fun."

The pretty lady nodded and handed over the oversized toy glasses, Lemon forking over a simple note and insisting the change be kept. You thanked the attendant in her native language as she passed, and after doing a look up and down again, nodded, "All right, go."

"Any fuckin' idea what happened?" Lemon muttered.

"No," Tan snapped.

"Looks like The Hornet's work," you whispered. "Yeah, see, her specialty are poisons and venom, most notably, that of the Boomslang snake." You smirked, "Anyone see the news recently? A Boomslang went missing earlier..."

Tan pulled the lad's head back and continued cleaning the blood off, needing to raise outta his seat to finish the job. Lemon offered, "Here, mate, try these. They're them Momonga glasses."

"The fuck is a Momonga?" Tan sneered through a small panicked pant, taking the toy and settling them on the Son's face.

"Japanese anime kid's show," you offered softly.

"Comes on after Thomas every Thursday," Lemon rushed, gasping, "oh, shi - " when the Son's head dropped. Tan and Lem fixed him to look as if he was only sleeping by leaning his head on the window.

"Thought you two were masters of disguise?" You teased.

"Shut it, darling, please," Tan snipped with a sigh. "All right, we need to split up - there's a lot of train to cover."

"What're we doing?" You asked, standing when Tan gestured you out of the way.

"Gonna find whoever has the case - probably the same nut job who killed the kid," he seethed. "The Hornet, you said?" He asked, watching you nod. Standing as a trio in the middle of the train aisle, you three agreed to split up and search for the case, but Tan insisted you come with him, "as back-up."

"You seriously need it?" You chuckled.

"No, but I wanna keep an eye on yah," he rolled his eyes.

"Shouldn't someone stay with the body?" You wondered.

"He's not gonna get any deader."

"Is that even a word?" You asked Lemon, giggling when Tangerine rolled his eyes and snatched your hand to follow after him.

You and Tan had scoured the entire train, but had zero luck. The only direction the two of you had was from a young girl with a crisp bob haircut in first class, who told Tan she saw a man with black frame glasses with their desired case. Your mind flashed back to earlier, remembering the blonde man and how he had a briefcase. It must've been their briefcase.

He must've just lifted it when you boarded and accidentally ran into him. You hated how foolish you felt, but there was no way you could've known that was the case you were after. Still, you felt a pang of disappointment in yourself - some sick desire to impress your brothers with your skill, to prove to them you're capable of being in this line of work. That you weren't that little girl in the orphanage anymore, but a woman grown who was capable of making her own decisions and having greater purpose.

"Hey," you paused Tan in another connection that lead to the next train car, "you go ahead and update Lemon, I'm gonna pop into the loo."

"I'll wait," he nodded, his phone ringing. "Sorry, love, just a minute. 'S fucking business."

You only nodded and slipped into the bathroom, doing your business, washing your hands, and when you emerged, you jumped back slightly in shock when the Momonga mascot was standing right there in the doorway. You peaked to your right, and in the next train car, through the window, spied Tangerine on his phone, the car mostly empty to your left.

"You need in here?" You asked the mascot, but it just stared at you. "I mean, d-do you need help outta that God awful costume?" More silence. "Riiiight, well, this is weird as fuck. Soooo... I'm just gonna... Go..." You mumbled, slipping out of the bathroom, but was instantly blocked from Tan's view. "The fuck? Oi, c'mon, mate, my friend technically gave you the plushie back." More silence. "Look, you creepy motherfucker - "

But you gasped when the plush mascot shoved you backwards, forcing you to stumble into the automatic door leading to the empty train car - yelping when it opened and you fell backwards.

"Fuck! Goddamnit, that hurt," You snapped, rolling to your feet as the human-sized plushie waddled towards you; the back of your head throbbing from impact and the automatic doors closing to trap the pair of you. "What the fuck, mate? What'd I do? The fuck you want?"

When the oversized head was removed, your mouth went dry. "Remember me, bitch?" The Hornet seethed.

"Ah, fuckin' Christ."

The Hornet smirked, "You've seen my face, you know what that means? I gotta take you out. You've evaded me too long."

"Rome wasn't my fault!" You barked instantly, watching her begin to maneuver out of her costume.

"You got my partner killed, bitch!"

"It was an accident!"

"Bullshit, bitch!" She raged, shedding her mascot costume to reveal a train attendant's uniform - wondering how long she'd been waiting for this opportunity if she was prepared to this level. "You had a hit list, we were on it - "

"Oh, fuck off, as if you've never been given orders!"

Her neck cracked as she tossed the costume to an empty seat. "Time to get my revenge," she grit, "bitch."

"Learn some new insults, my God, you're so fuckin' boring. Throw in some 'cunts' or even call me a 'arsehole', just lay off the 'bitches'," your eyes rolled, dodging the Hornet's first flying fist and nearly stumbling off your feet. You exchanged blows, dancing around one another, grunting, growling, heaving for breath, trying to incapacitate the other. On a particularly hard push, the Hornet managed to dislodge your gun and send it under a set of seats.

"Not so tough now, are yah, bitch?" She laughed sarcastically.

You wiped a small dribble of blood from your lip, panting to heave your shoulders up and down. "All right, you asked for this. Bring it on - bitch!" You laughed right back, the Hornet lunging forward. However, you missed the way she pulled out a prefilled syringe and tried to stab you with it; luckily evading the injection.

"Know what's in here?" She taunted. "Boomslang venom! Yeah, that's right. Highly potent, hits your system in 30 seconds, making you bleed from every orifice - "

"I know, you stupid fucking wanker! I watch the bloody news! I went to college! I'm educated enough to know!"

The doors opened again, revealing Tangerine. "Fuckin' hell!" He snapped, "You all right, Olive!? Hey?"

"Stay back, Tan, this bitch is mine!"

The Hornet wailed as she launched at you again. You were battered and beaten, the other woman lobbing you into furniture, tables, and train walls - causing small cuts to form on your unblemished skin. Yet still, you barked at Tangerine to stay back, that you had this.

You and the Hornet ended up on the floor, trying to one up each other. However, luck was not on your side because the Hornet had you pinned and she simply dropped the syringe into the flesh of your hand. You didn't need to think too deeply, you just rolled over, snatched up the syringe, and stabbed her, too - exposing her to the venom by pushing the syringe's plunger. You both stared at one another with wide eyes, panting.

"30 seconds before the venom does its thing," you taunted, knowing that any good assassin kept the antidote on their person - just in case. Her eyes narrowed and tongue swept over her front teeth, weighing her options; eyes locked in a stalemate, daring the other to make the first move. Do nothing, you both die... Reveal the antidote, only one will die.

She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a new syringe, you lunging for it with impressive lithe to stab into your neck and push the plunger. She seethed, "You bitch."

You stumbled back a step, colliding with Tan's chest as neither of you could look away as the Hornet's eyes went red with blood filling every cavern and crevice. "Oh, shit, that doesn't look good," you winced in fake sympathy. "You've got another syringe, right? A back-up?"

She warbled and wheezed, "What do you think, bitch?"

"What's with the whole bitch thing?" Tan asked in your ear. "She know any other words?"

You only shrugged as blood poured from the Hornet's eyes, filling her lungs to drown her from the inside. "No second antidote? Ah, that's just poor planning on your end, love," you taunted when the Hornet dropped to the ground, choking, blood leaking from her mouth. "I mean, you only carry one antidote? I thought you were supposed to be a professional? With your choice of weapon being venom, I mean," you laughed a little, "seems pretty stupid."

The Hornet continued to choke, trying to crawl up the aisle, but only getting a few feet before the effects of the venom took hold fully. She flopped onto her back, the blood congealing in a thick and tacky substance; staining the stolen uniform and floors of the train.

"What the fuck was that?" Tan snapped, turning you to face him. "Are you hurt!?" He worried, checking you over for visible sign of injury; finding two puncture wounds - one in your neck and one in your hand. You were decorated in soon-to-form bruises, but no bones were broken and you seemed relatively okay besides the small cuts.

"Tan," you soothed, placing your hand over his on your cheek. "I'm all right, I'm fine. She just caught me a little off guard."

"What the hell was that, huh? You got some kinda death wish, is it?"

"It's all part of the job!"

"Like hell, it is! This is why I didn't want you involved - "

"'Cause I could get hurt? Fuck's sake - "

"Yes, all right!" He exploded. "Yes, because you could get hurt! I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you, and look at yah now! I was on the fuckin' phone and you were fighting this... Wait, who the fuck is that?" Tan pointed at the dead body.

"Mh. The Hornet," you answered with a shrug. "She's been after me since Rome 'bout two years ago. I might be one of the very few who knows what she actually looks like - so, no wonder she wanted me dead. Plus... I might've allegedly, possibly, kinda-sorta got her partner killed. Turns out, he was also her lover and she's been after me since."

His head shook, "So now you have international enemies?"

"I mean, I guess it means I'm good at what I do - else they wouldn't bother to come after me."

"You shouldn't say that with pride! That's not how this works!"

"Tell me how you think it should work, then!"

Tangerine glared, "You shouldn't be involved. You worked too hard to become a teacher, to have a real career, and you threw it all away, for what? For this life?"

"What do you care, Aaron!? Honestly!? 'S been years, you just disappeared from my life! I don't think you have the right to boss me around anymore! We're not fuckin' kids anymore!"

He huffed a sharp exhale, "You seriously don't know? Really that fuckin' oblivious?"

"I can't read minds! Why don't you use your words like a big boy?"

Aaron, one of your longest standing friends and practically your family without blood, just nodded sadly. "I thought it would've been obvious by now," he sighed.

"What're you - "

"I love you," Tan interrupted. "Yeah? I fucking love you."

"Yeah, I know, and I love you, too, Aaron, but that doesn't - "

"No," he interrupted in a snap, face falling, "no, I meant that I'm in love with you. Jesus Christ," his hand wiped down his face, "been in love with you for years now. Maybe it started when you punched Tommy Jenkins in the nose when we were 16, maybe it started when we aged outta the orphanage and got our first apartment together. I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I know I am."

You paused, "A-Are you serious?"

"Deadly. But luckily you've already had a dose of antidote, eh?"

The chuckle you emitted was involuntary. But then, your irritation bubbled, asking, "Why hold it in all this time? And if you were in love with me, why not call? Why abandon me in the first place? I went four years - four, Tan! - without you and Lem, the two people I treasured the most, felt safe with, found a family in. Not a single one of my letters were returned; you deprived me of any phone call, not even a single text! You just disappeared from my life."

He bowed his head, "I had to leave, sweetheart. I couldn't keep yah around."

"Why? Tell me why right now, or we'll go another four years - "

"This job is dangerous, love, bit too dangerous in honesty. You know that, but to have emotional attachments only leads to error and a lot of hurt. I was trying to play it safe, thinking I was protecting you, because if any of our enemies knew how precious you are to me, they'd use you against me - they'd hurt you and I couldn't risk that."

"You can't protect me from everything," you whispered. "Aaron, you and Brian are my family, you always have been. Your whole life, you've protected me from the brutality of life, but you can't protect me from reality any longer. I'm sorry if me working upsets you, but I know what I'm doing, Aaron. I'm not fragile, I won't shatter."

"I know," he sighed, shaking his head. "I know it's irrational, love, but I can't go another day without you. I know it's been four years too long, I thought of you everyday, and never have I had such regret. Walking away from you, doll, it hurt worse than getting shot."

You sighed and avoided his eyes, admitting, "I like to think that in some twisted way, I entered this life in the hope that I'd run into you. Felt like the only way we could see each other since this line of work is so bloody unorthodox."

Tangerine sniffled, "I always wanted to come back, find yah again, but I couldn't risk it. I can't risk you. And listen, if you don't feel the same, that's all right, love, I know I just sprang this one you, but I just needed you to know - "

"Aaron, you need to stop shutting yourself down when you feel vulnerable," you sighed patiently, waiting for him to nod his head silently to indicate for you to continue. "Take a breath and listen to me." Another nod and you revealed, "I've been in love with you, too, since we were teens. I didn't want to disrupt what we have, so I stayed quiet. You and Brian - you're the only ones I care about, the only ones I want in my crazy, chaotic, unpredictable life. Too much time as already passed, we've missed so much, I don't want to miss another minute."

He crowded closer to you, both hands lifting to hold your cheeks and stare into your eyes. "Been waiting ages t'hear that," he whispered.

You smiled softly, "I love you, Aaron. Absolutely, maddeningly, unequivocally in love with you."

He chuckled and returned the sentiment, foreheads brought together before his breath fanned across your lips. He paused to give you time to reject him, but you boldly pushed yourself to meet his lips in a long-awaited kiss that set your heart and soul on fire. Mouths moved in sync, cheeky tongues mingled, teeth gently clanked together as you kissed passionately and without restraint. His hands dropped to hold your waist, your own curling around his neck to gently thread your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck; his curls feeling soft, moisturized, and bouncy.

You were rudely interrupted by your phone, Tan pulling back with a small smirk, "Gonna get that? Might be important."

"Promise 's just Constance," you grumbled, fishing for your phone and stepping away from Tan's embrace. "Hey, love," you greeted.

"Ah! Thank God! You're not shot yet!"

"No, not shot, just stabbed, earned a few bruises but I'm good," you snorted, looking under the seats to locate you gun. "What's up, why're you calling again, I told you I'd call you when I'm good."

"We have new intelligence."

"Lay it on me," you sent Tangerine a look; his face stoic, indicating he was listening intently.

"Your next stop is the last stop that the White Death's men aren't stationed at. If you wanna make a clean getaway, you gotta get off at the next stop. It's your last chance."

You winced, "Uh... About that, so, funny thing..."

"What did you do?"

"You always think the worst of me, I don't always do shit."

"Did you?"

You paused and glanced at the squashed Hornet, shrugging, "Not really, it's just not the cleanest job I've done."

"What happened?"

"You always assume the worst in me."

"You only prove me right."

You chuckled, "Yeah, all right, fair enough. Listen," you sniffled, turning to face Tan, "we don't have the case or the Son..."

"You better fucking find them. After this stop, all others are gonna be too hard to get off at. The White Death has men in position."

"Well... Funny thing, right," you winced, rubbing the back of your neck, "uh, so, it wasn't our fault, but the Son is dead. The Hornet got to him, used Boomslang venom, I got her after so you can register her as deceased."

"Oh, fucking Christ! You fuckin' serious? Please tell me this is just a bad joke."

"Why would I lie?"

You heard Constance take a deep long breath, knowing she was counting to ten in her head to keep her composure. "Okay, Olive, sweetheart," she spoke slowly, "tell me you know where the case is. Please. I need to hear the words."

"Pretty sure Maria's guy lifted it, but no confirmation yet."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Go fucking find him, get that case, and if you don't make the next stop, call me - there's always a backup plan."

"Let's just do Plan B, it'd save a helluva lotta time."

"Olive," Constance growled, "get the Twins, get the fucking case, and get off the fucking train before you all get fucking shot."

You nodded, "Yeah, all right, love, we're on it."

After hanging up, Tan mused, "So, how's Constance?"

"Uh, yeah, no, she's stressed," you cleared your throat. "Wait, how do you know her?"

"Our handler's collaborated with her before."

"Mhm... Okay, just listen, Aaron, I told you the White Death didn't hire me."

"Right."

"Meaning I need that case and I need you and Lem to get off this train with me. We're gonna get to a safe house - "

"No, no, love, we've our own agenda."

"The Son is dead, the case is missing, your job is literally fucked," you reminded sharply. "However, I can still make it worthwhile if we find the case and get off this train. C'mon, love," you pleaded, "you have to trust me. Please, just - don't go through with the last of this job, it's not gonna end well for anyone. But my way means we all get a chance at safety and keeping our lives."

His head shook, "We won't make it in time."

"We can try."

"We need to find Glasses first - and fucking Lemon."

You agreed.

"Looks like your luck's turned around, Joburg," Lemon sneered, the four of you coming to an agreement to take the case, leave the Son's body for the White Death to find, and get to your safe house.

"If it was up to me, we would've left him," Tangerine growled. "Seriously, love, why the fuck did we save him, too?"

"It was the right thing to do, we were all being set up," you explained, surveying the train station. "All right, c'mon, this way."

"So," Ladybug was heard, "you guys are, like, siblings?"

"Who? Us and Olive?" Lemon snickered, watching the blonde man nod. "Sure, mate, something like that."

"Seem real close, the way she risked her life for you two..."

"Well, they say the blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb. 'Course we're gonna look after one another."

The three men followed you, Tangerine keeping a tight hold of the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle. When you made it outside the station without incident or interruption, there was a sleek Range Rover waiting at the curb - an old acquaintance of yours leaning on the grill.

"Olive!" The other agent greeted with a grin.

"Gouda," you returned with enthusiasm, hugging the man. "So nice to see you, thanks for doing this."

"Constance calls, I answer," he nodded, eyeing the three other agents behind you. "Huh... See you made some friends, did yah?"

"Something like that," you mused.

"How's it goin', Gouda?" Lemon asked, making your brows pinch.

"You know each other?" Your eyes shifted between the group.

"Unfortunately," Tangerine nodded with a sigh. "Mate..."

"Yeah, fuck you, too, Tangerine," Gouda sneered. "You know, Olive, your friend fuckin' shot me."

"Did you deserve it?"

Gouda paused, "Doesn't matter. All right, whatever, let's get goin', I'm supposed to get you to the safe house."

Everyone piled into the car, you in the passenger seat to give Gouda a rundown on the train's events. Why you needed the safe house. Why you got off before Kyoto, like was agreed upon. He agreed it was all a mess, telling you the team was still gathering information on the White Death's plan - something in motion that would've ended all your lives. Upon arriving at the safe house, you thanked Gouda, him telling you Constance would arrive in a few days to ensure you lot were smuggled out of the country - not trusting other methods as the White Death had associates planted everywhere.

The house was stalked fully with fresh food in the kitchen, a wall of racked weapons, money in a safe, and reinforced panic rooms in the event of an attack.

"Nice, very nice," Ladybug complimented, looking around the place. "Better than what we've got..."

"Pick your rooms, we'll be here a couple days. My handler's gonna work on getting us outta here without the White Death knowing. Maria negotiated terms for you, Mr. Bug, so you're staying with us."

Everyone spread out, finding the bedrooms fully equipped with new clothes and other necessities, like toiletries. Everyone was able to get long, hot showers, and eventually, when you exited the bathroom in a robe with a towel used to dry your hair, you found Lemon sitting on the living room couch - listening intently to the news report.

"Might wanna see this, love," Brian frowned, making room on the couch for you to sit.

"What's up?"

He nodded at the screen, you watching as a Japanese news station reported on a runaway bullet train that obliterated a local town. Your eyes widened, mindlessly translating the segment; Tangerine eventually joining you two. "What're you two watchin'?" He asked softly, standing behind the couch with his hands on your shoulders. From the opposite door that housed a few other bedrooms, Ladybug entered; the news catching his attention, too.

There was a tension in the air that couldn't be described.

"The White Death sent a fucking bullet train off the rails. All those innocent people..." You whispered, camera crews capturing the devastation and destruction caused. You realized, "He set us all up, he was gonna kill us all."

"Thank God for Constance. What the hell did we do to him, though?" Lemon wondered. "I mean, have any of us actually done a job for or against the White Death before?"

"No clue," Ladybug answered nervously, "but whatever we did, really pissed him off if that's his retaliation. What was the motive, though? Why put us all on the same mission? Same train?"

"Sounds like a vendetta," you answered, the room going silent as everyone contemplated your words. "C'mon, lads, 's been a day. Should get some shut eye."

"Yeah, yeah," Lemon sighed, "good idea. You'll let us know when Constance makes contact?"

You nodded in agreement, bidding them all a goodnight before heading for your designated room. It wasn't more than ten minutes later, you sat on the bathroom floor with an array of medical supplies spread around you in an effort to clean your wounds, when a knock sounded at your door. "Come in," you permitted, tending to a decent sized gash in your hairline.

"You all right?" Tangerine asked softly, leaning in the doorframe of your bathroom. He was dressed down in a pair of joggers and a black wife beater.

"Peachy keen, love."

"You know, this image, right here," he gestured to you, the blood drops on the pristine floor, and all the supplies you required, "is why I didn't want you involved."

You nodded slowly, "Yeah, but it's just the name of the game, you know?"

"Need help?"

"No, I'm about done," you sighed, tightening the gauze around your thigh, "but you can help me up, though."

He smirked and offered his hand, helping hoist you to your feet and sigh as he looked you over. You breezed past him, patting his chest under a blood-stained button up; entering your bedroom and dropping onto the bed to rub your tired feet. You watched Tan follow you, a question on the tip of his tongue that couldn't quite take form.

But Tangerine was a man of action, so he abandoned his words and knelt in front of you; caressing your jaw and cheek to sweep his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You were ready to question his unusually soft demeanor when he leaned in and pressed a sultry kiss to your lips - sucking the breath from your lungs.

You hummed in contentment when he pulled back with a small smirk, whispering, "Been wanting t'do that for ages."

"Took you long enough," you breathed, surging forward to wrap your arms securely around his neck and meet in a messy, passionate kiss that made both your heads spin.

Slowly, you felt Tan rise from his position and moved back on the bed to give him room to crawl over you; kiss never ceasing, only a tangled mess of lips, tongue, and teeth. You moaned with greed when his tongue swept against the seam of your lips, being granted access, letting your mouth mingle and dance together in unbridled passion you weren't even aware Aaron could harness.

"Fuck," you whimpered when he detached from your mouth and started down your neck; licking, scraping his teeth, creating a legion of markings as he went. After years of loving him at a distance, this entire ordeal felt surreal; as if in a dream or alternate universe. His hands squeezed your waist before drifting downward, caressing your hips, hoisting your uninjured leg up his hips before grinding his swelling cock into your pantie-covered cunt.

Your hands daintily fumbled with the material of his shirt, quickly shucking the material from his sculpted torso. You knew he was fit, but seeing him bare like this was something else entirely - mouth salivating, but being unable to truly appreciate him in his glory. You were both littered in bruises and cuts, evidence from fighting the entire night; careful with the injuries, happy with the soft, gentle way you caressed one another.

His hands moved to the tie of your robe, pulling the knot to release; able to slowly push the material aside and look down at your exposed flesh. No bra, no shirt, only a pair of panties under that robe. He licked his lips, meeting your eyes again. "C'mere," he whispered, sitting back, "waited too long, fuckin' hell."

You smirked and sat up, the both of you locking eyes and stripping from your cloth barriers as fast as you could. Reaching for him again, you crashed back into the mound of soft pillows, keeping him close; legs spread to accommodate his slender hips, holding his neck and shoulders to keep him where you wanted.

Tangerine grunted when you reached for his cock, stroking him slowly to full mast. Your lips were sticky, wet tongues wagging against one another to create webs of saliva when he pulled back. Gently knocking your hand away, Tangerine shimmied down your body, lips pressing quick pecks anywhere he could reach; pausing at your nipples and biting harshly.

You yelped with pleasure, back arching, Tangerine smirking at the reaction - mouth covering one breast as his hand pawed at the other to let his fingers pinch and tweak your nipple. His tongue flattened against your sternum, looking up to meet your eyes as he continued down your battered body until his face was nestled between your thighs. "Oh, Jesus fuck!" You moaned when he took his first taste.

He hummed, "Exactly my thoughts. Fuckin' hell, tastes bloody delightful - fuck me." He grunted and dove back in, latching his lips around your clit and using the fingers of his dominant hand to plunge knuckle-deep in your sloppy warmth. "That's a good girl," he praised, using two fingers to pump in and out, in and out, in and out - your body twitching as pleasure mounted to make you unable to lay still. "Mhm, look so fuckin' pretty like this - spread out, all f'me. Can't get tired of this sight," he moaned, lapping at your wetness.

"Aaron," you begged, gripping the curls at the crown of his head, grinding your hips up to his mouth. "Oh, God, yes, yes," you encouraged, breathing turning sharp and shrill. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were and why you were in a safe house; reality melting away when fully enraptured in Tangerine. "There, right there, holy shit," you whimpered when he prodded that one special place of your inner walls.

"Gotcha, love, I gotcha," he mumbled, sucking and flicking his tongue against your pearl as he focused fully on that spongey spot; causing a wave of slick to generate on his tongue. He grunted, bicep flexing as he pumped his digits faster and faster; his other hand laid across your lower belly to hold you in place.

"Shit!" You met a long-awaited crescendo, a little embarrassed by how quick you met your end - having been a few months since you were intimate with anyone.

But my God, none of them compared to Aaron. His body was slick with a light sheen of sweat, his mustache scraping your sensitive bud with his fingers still working against you. You tried to wriggle away, but Tan held you in place, his other hand now holding one of your thighs wide for his benefit. You forgot there were other occupants in the house, moaning and whimpering the longer Aaron lapped at your essence and messily fingered you.

You could've cried from the pleasure, pulling on his curls as a second orgasm washed over you. You, too, were now sweating, stomach knotted and legs beginning to shake slightly; thighs closing around his ears as your muscles contracted.

Tangerine chuckled when he pulled back, taking one more nip at your swollen and sensitive clit; sighing in satisfaction as he looked up at you, evidence of your pleasure smeared around his mouth, chin, and mustache. Cheekily, he wiped around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean while you tried to catch your breath.

"Jesus Christ," you chuckled.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," you grinned, tugging on his curls again to indicate you wanted him back up with you. He didn't waste time to crawl over you, and when in place, you reached for his warm cock to place at your entrance.

"Oi, hang on, gotta rubber - "

"I'm on birth control, we're okay," you rushed. "Unless you're dirty?"

"Nah, love, I don't fuck nobody raw," he smirked, "but there's a first time for everything, huh?" Aaron laughed almost cruelly when he pushed his hips forward and notched his cock's head inside you, pausing a single moment to watch your reaction as he sunk deeper to stretch you out.

Maybe you had been depriving yourself all these years, Tan's cock being a size, length, and girth you've not handled before. Nobody compared, your cunt weeping with joy at finally having a challenge worthwhile; his balls swinging before being trapped between your bodies. He made a noise, a mix of a moan and whimper, readjusting his hold on you so he held one thigh and the other was supporting his weight by your head.

Your hand laid on his waist, the other around his neck; eyes locked in a passionate connection when he began moving. Your mouth opened in shock, huffing for air, unable to look away - blue eyes pinning you in place. His mouth descending onto yours, rolling his hips to create friction; cock head prodding your gummy walls as the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed with each movement. You lifted a hand to hold his cheek, tongues swirling around one another, Aaron increasing his pace a fraction.

Your nails dug into his flesh, leaving trails of raised, red scratches in their wake - yet it was as if he didn't even notice. "Know I love you, yeah?" Aaron whispered, veins in his neck protruding; heart hammering.

"Yeah," you nodded, wanting him impossibly closer, "yeah, Aaron, I love you, too, holy shit."

Maybe emotional intimacy turned you on more than you ever realized. He clenched his teeth, both hands pressed onto the mattress to support himself as he started to thrust faster. "Not gonna last, love, not with the way you're squeezin' me," he warned, a few stray curls falling over his forehead, his golden medallion swinging and knocking gently against your chin. "Jesus, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he rambled, "like you were fuckin' made for me - Goddamnit."

"We're idiots for waiting so long," you moaned.

"Won't ever be that stupid again," he laughed gently, looking down between you to watch himself disappear and reappear in and out of you; coated in your slick, veins of his cock now throbbing as he felt the familiar coil begin to tighten.

His thumb pressed to your clit and rubbed, your moans getting louder and longer; own hands groping your breasts and tweaking your nipples to add to the sensations Tangerine provided. "Baby," you whined, "'M close - "

"Get there, love, c'mon," he begged, "can't hold back - wanted this f'so long, fuck!" One hand slapped his away to let you control your clit, Tangerine grinning, "Naughty girl. Shit, that's a sight, innit?"

"Don't stop!"

Aaron growled, pinching his brows in concentration as he snapped his hips, the sounds of his balls slapping against you clapping around the room; mingling with your moans, groans, whimpers, and the thick smell of sex that hung in the air. "Feels so fuckin' good," he mumbled, straining himself to resist. "Tight and warm, Jesus fuck, my love, you're perfect - so fucking perfect - Goddamnit."

"There, there, there," you chanted, rubbing your clit vigorously while Aaron dissolved his restrain to hammer into your core with sloppy movements. "Yes, oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes! Please, Aaron, yes, right there, baby, please - don't stop!"

"Fuckin' cum for me, c'mon, love, let it go," he growled, teeth scraping over your collarbone before latching in a gentle bite on your shoulder. "That's it, there it is," Aaron moaned, feeling the restrictive flutter of your cunt, "good girl, good fuckin' girl, that's it."

Your mind went blank, unable to process anything other than Aaron's cock still hammering into you at a brutal pace; the entire bed creaking and rattling against the wall. You whimpered, lips parting when he didn't stop, encouraging, "Need you t'cum, baby, please. Wanna feel you in me - want your cum, fucking need it. C'mon, Aaron, c'mon, love, finish in me - fucking fill me, please, I need it."

"Yeah? Need it?" He grunted, cheeks flushing.

"So bad, need your cum so bad!"

He grit his teeth, humping all the faster before the warmth of your cavern became too much. "Shit!" Tangerine shouted, taking two more rolling thrusts before fully sheathing himself in you as rope of sticky, thick cum painted your inner walls. "Oh, holy hell," he panted, keeping himself still but his arms trembling to support himself as he pulled back only slightly. "All right?" He checked, glancing to where you two were conjoined. "You good?"

"Perfect," you nodded, petting up and down his sides as if entranced and in disbelief this happened. He felt so soft all of a sudden, a stark contrast to his stoic and aggressive personality. "You all right?"

He grunted and retracted his hips, cock springing free to let him crash on the bed beside you; both your lungs working in tandem to attempt to even out. "Absolutely, so fuckin' good," he told you, both staring at the ceiling for a moment before his head turned to look at you. He grinned slyly, chuckling, "That really happened?"

"Think so."

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," he mused. "Stay put a second, love," he whispered, standing from the bed to venture into the bathroom. After a moment, he returned with a warm and damp washcloth, helping you clean up the cum leaking from your cunt; wiping away the messiness. He cleaned himself as well, you crawling under the covers of the bed - not bothering to redress.

When Tan joined you again, he snuggled into the sheets and opened his arm to welcome you into his side. It was weird, you usually hated sleeping with anyone, finding it too hot and restrictive, but laying there with Tangerine, you felt incredibly at peace.

"You know Constance isn't gonna be here for a couple days," you mentioned casually.

"Uh-huh."

"Think I just found our past time."

"Oh, darlin'," Tangerine chuckled, "we're not leavin' this bed."

"We'll have to eat."

"Least that Ladybug twat can do is bring us our food, eh?"

But you paused to consider something, laid on his chest and idly tracing the scars on his beefy chest. "Hey, Aaron?" You whispered.

"Hmm? What is it, love?"

"What's gonna happen when we leave here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, here, in Japan, we're together... But when we go home t'London, back to reality, what's gonna happen?"

"What? You mean, with us?"

"Yeah."

He snickered, "Why would anything change, love? I'm not just in love with you, here, in Japan, but everywhere - wholeheartedly. So, when we go back, we make this work. No matter what it takes."

"Really?"

Aaron grinned, "'Course, love. Went four long years without even seein' yah, I have no plans t'let you go again - not so soon, not ever." He stretched and tucked his free arm behind his head, "You're stuck with me, doll. That all right with you?"

You grinned up at him, "Perfect by me."

His lips found yours again, starting a very noisy night that made both Lemon and Ladybug clamp pillows over their ears.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[meiiie]

dave lizewski, i’m so into you. (pt. 2)

summary: you say something unexpected about Kick-Ass while discussing with your friends which hero you prefer the most.. Kick-Ass? Or Red Mist? little did Dave know or so you thought, you knew it was him all along..

a/n: i have an OC named Melilah who will be your best friend in this imagine, this only has fluff and comedy, there are some inappropriate jokes, and thats it i think! i also didn't proofread this so like... yeah happy reading :)

(pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader) link to pt. 1

word count: 1.6k

now playing: boyfriend (with Social House)

♫ 'Cause I know we be so complicated But we be so smitten, it's crazy I can't have what I want, but neither can you ♫

the lyrics echoing throughout the store,

“well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say out of your thoughts completely regretting saying the said statement- “Really?” Dave says out of nowhere, observing the conversation from behind your booth.

♫ But you ain't my boyfriend (Boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (Girlfriend) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (Nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody ♫

“okay wrap it up you two.” Todd interrupts

you really didn't know what to do at that point, i mean- what else would you do?

Dave takes a seat beside you—you think to yourself, 'ah, so this is what Todd and Marty were planning…' ...not knowing your best friend was in on it too

Melilah was rambling something about Red Mist to Todd and Marty, you couldn't care less since it wasn't about Kick-Ass “what you said, did you mean it?” Dave asking you, you almost break your neck by looking at him “wait- what yes what no, huh?”

Dave tilts his head looking confused at your reply, chuckling a bit “well, maybe, i guess? i mean, who wouldn't want to…?” you say nervously, your palms and toes are practically sweating at his question

“so, uh is that why you've been avoiding me these past few days? because you find Kick-Ass more attractive than me?” smirking in attempt to tease you, but you didn't take the hint, and instead you fumble on your words by saying “no- you are very attractiv- i mean, Kick-Ass is very attractive, well- not really? i keep my options open” you sigh trying to catch your breath, but Dave doesn't look the slightest upset. instead he was just looking at you in amusement, recalling the previous days.

4 days earlier

“how come nobody has ever tried to be a superhero?” Dave asks Todd and Marty sitting at the same booth spot, “boy.. i dunno! probably because it's fucking impossible, dipshit!” Marty says while Todd just laughs “what? putting a mask and helping people, how's that impossible?” Dave says trying to defend his question

“that's not superhero, though. how's that super? super's like being stronger than everybody and flying and shit. that's just hero” Todd explains

“no, it's not even hero. it's just fucking psycho.”

Dave Lizewski knew at that moment that his goal was to become the first real life superhero. as soon as Dave opened his parcel for his Kick-Ass 'superhero suit', he goes to find his first mission as a superhero, which was to fight bad guys right? haaah.... that actually didn't turn out so well- *PUNCH*

“AHHHHH” Dave screams after making 4 guys faint that were trying to beat up a guy in front of the convenience store, “what the fuck just happened.” he says assessing the situation he was just in. he looks around his surroundings and realize the amount of people recording the fight “holy shit, I DID IT!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, he just felt so unstoppab- “AHHHHHHHH” Dave screams, again but IN TERROR. he was just about to fall off a ledge, barely hanging on. who knew saving a cat would be this hard? "FUCK YOU MR. BITEY!" *THUD*

Dave hits the ground, HARD. “aggghh.. FUCK.” he checks whether his back was okay-then if his phone was fine or not. looking at his screen & it was ALMOST 7PM. “shit, it's almost past my curfew! i cannot STAND pretending to be like i'm some sort of superhero anymore.” he stomps on the ground walking fast into a dark alleyway, he notices there was someone standing beside the lamp pole but who cares. all he could think of was giving up, what kind of superhero would be able to beat up 4 guys but can't even save a CAT? he removes his mask out of frustration, partially still angry at Mr. Bitey, but then a faint gasp is heard—his eyes darting towards the pole. it was you. sounds of quick footsteps tip-tap-tip-tap quickly fading away. "WAIT!-" Dave shouts, “i- oh god..”

it was the next day in school, he already saw how the videos from the convenience store was spreading in the news, but most importantly was what did you think? "hey y/n-" you quickly pass by him in the halls, his heart stung at the sight of you trying to ignore him. during classes, he would be staring at you- like, FULL BLOWN staring at you with such sadness in his eyes. what he felt for you was different, he didn't know what it was. before you both became friends, he would always notice the little details about you during class.

you were always fidgeting with your pencil, or doodling on your notebook, the way you squint your eyes at the white board when you couldn't see what the teacher wrote, he found you so endearing. after being paired up to work on a major project for one of your classes, it was like he won the entire universe. so now seeing you ignore him made it feel like his life just crumbled apart

"are you sure this is going to work? i don't think y/n is going to fall for this, you always come to the hangouts its going to be obvious that we're lying…"

"dude, you should just talk to her and ask her whats up? what'd you even do to make her avoid you man??"

"stop it- it's, privat-"

"oh my god. they probably kissed and she ran away because Dave was a shitty kisser ohhhhh GOD. i can envision it! why did you have to do that????"

"first of all, we did not kiss. AND I AM A GOOD KISSER! i just need Melilah to convince y/n to hang out with you guys in Comic Atomics but tell her that i'm not coming, then i'll hide behind the booth then just ask her what she thinks about Kick-Ass-"

"why does it have to be specifically Kick-Ass though..?" the three of them look at Dave expecting an answer, Dave really wanted to know what you thought about him- well, about his alter ego, Kick-Ass, but you couldn't just tell your friends that was the reason

"guys... just do this... for me... as a friend.. I swear i'll pay you guys back- ANYTHING."

"anything?"

"anything."

Dave slowly watches the conversation unfold in front of him, “guys what do you think of Kickass?” Melilah asks subtly looking at Dave behind you to wonder if she's following the plan right. Todd and Marty then expressed who they liked more, which was Red Mist which lowkey made Dave sad but once he heard your reply his eyes saw stars, the whole world, the universe, his whole life was lifted- “well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say, your words were ECHOING IN HIS BRAIN.... 'she... thinks... i'm cute...wait...SHE'DFUCKME?'

"Really?" he says, trying to keep his cool when in reality he was screaming internally.

during the whole hangout you could feel Dave's stares at you, grinning like he was the luckiest man alive yet you both weren't even together "jeez man stop glaring at her, you're going to make her run away again!" Melilah pointed out keeping the rest of the time there light, and your worries were all gone.

it was almost 5pm when you all said your goodbyes, "can I walk you home?" Dave asked, hoping for you to say yes "yeah, i'd like that." the walk home was silent but the silence was, comforting. "you know about it, don't you?" you pretend to look confused at his question "oh don't pretend now.." he said, you both started giggling

"well what do i know Mr. Lizewski?"

"maybe the fact that you saw me falling from a height in attempt to save a cat, perhaps?"

"oh that was you?" you jokingly say, he stopped walking in his tracks- baffled

"PFFT i was just kidding- come here" you both walk towards your house, walking at the same footstep rate. still laughing, reminiscing what happened. "for what its worth, i think it was cool that you tried saving... what's the name? Mr. Bitey? that was very brave of you" you chuckled. you both finally arrived at your front yard "well, why thank you y/n. i think it was very brave of you as well to follow the green stranger"

your laughs died down while you both looked into each other's eyes, he's admiring your features and you're admiring his. it was silent for a few seconds until he asked, "why'd you runaway? why'd you avoid me?" you didn't know what to say, while avoiding his eyes you say "i was scared, i was contemplating my.." you sigh while he looks at you with hopeful eyes. "i discovered that i like yo-" he cuts you off, feeling the warmth of his lips while he hugs your waist. you both begin to laugh again, his hands still around your waist. "i liked you ever since-" he says until you both hear your name being shouted from your house

"Y/N I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW YOU WERE ALWAYS WITH THAT PRETTY BOY!!!"

"MOM I SWEAR ITS NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS!!!" you peck his cheek, you whisper a quick 'i’msointoyo- imeantalktoyoutomorrowbye' winking back at him while running back into your house "moooommm let me explain wait-"

Dave turns around, starstruck, walks away feeling fulfilled. he didn't need to become a superhero, you were already one to him

a/n: ok i kinda cringed typing the last part but i ran out of ideas 🫠 thanks for reading!

[jj-5656]

Sneaking Suspicions With; Tangerine (Bullet Train)

A/n: Are we proud? Two uploads in two days. This is how I procrastinate doing any homework. Could not get this idea out of my head so here we are. This is my first for Tangerine, but I just recently rewatched Bullet Train and couldn’t resist. Had to add Lemon too because it’s simply not complete without him. Also, the bit about Thomas is all true, I was obsessed with that show when I was young. Enjoy!

Summary: The one where your boyfriend attempts to build a kitchen table, and nearly slaughters your neighbor...

T/W: A LOT of cursing, some suggestive humor, mentions of violence...duh

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” You wince as tools clatter in the kitchen. Discarding your current task of rummaging through boxes with Tangerine’s scribbled writing marked ‘bathroom’.

You’ve finally moved in to the new place after months of preparation. Having been together for 8 months, it was about time you moved in together. Tan practically lived at your old place anyway, though taking this step was intimidating for both of you. His brother had egged you on for months, desperately wanting their shared apartment as his own.

Hence why Tangerine is sat on the floor, muttering curses as he attempts to assemble your dining table.

“Tan, why won’t you let me help you?”

“I told you, I’ve got it, love. Fucking bastards,” his shoulders tense with anger as he speaks. “Can’t even make a buildable fuckin’ table. I’ll show them ‘quick and easy’ right up their fuckin’-”

“Did you even look at the directions, baby?” He furrows his brows, turning to you like you’ve grown another head. 

“Directions are for morons.” 

“Or for people with zero table assembling experience.” You mutter, fighting a grin under his tense stare. He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, only sporting a wife pleaser and trousers in the summer heat. You internally cringe at the reminder your stubborn boyfriend intends to install the air conditioner on his own as well.

“Maybe we could ask Brian across the hall, he said he does construction for his dad part time.”

“You chopping it up with that lad already? Right git, he is.”

“He’s nice, Tan.”

“He’s a flirt, and a shit one at that.” It forces a laugh from you, Tangerine frustrated that the sound still manages to ease the tension from his muscles. 

“I’ll ring Lemon, then.” 

“I swear to Christ, if you call my muppet of a brother-” 

And that’s how Lemon ends up knocking at your door, takeout in hand and a bright smile on his face at the sight of you. 

“Hello, lovely. Call for reinforcements already?” 

There’s a distant “fuck off” from the kitchen, but you nod nonetheless, thanking him for the food and much needed company. Lemon’s rooted for your relationship even before his brother. Insisting he get your number that fateful night in that shitty club all those months ago. 

***************

You’d been sharing drinks with a group of friends when a man bumped into you, nearly knocking you over with the size of him. He’d caught you by the shoulders before you could fall, sending the drunken, clumsy patron an icy glare before surveying you for any injury. He’d clasped both his hands around one of yours, profusely muttering overly-posh, accented apologies. You were ready to cuss out whoever had been so careless before you laid eyes on him, overwhelmed with the British charm and piercing eyes. 

“Can I buy you and your friends a drink? I’ll be out of your hair after, promise.” His sincerity makes you want to request he sticks around the rest of the evening, though you shake your head. Polite commonalities ingrained in your nature. 

“Not necessary, I appreciate it.” You assure with a kind smile, ignoring your friends gawking at the pin-stripe clad gentleman. He nods, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable as he gives your elbow a gentle squeeze in one last apology. Heading back the way he came, sitting beside another well-dressed man at the bar. What looks like a round of chastising from the raven-haired man, and the handsome stranger is waving him off, glancing over at you and taking a generous sip of his drink. 

“You did not seriously just turn Poseiden-incarnate down.” Your girlfriend finally manages to close her slacked jaw, frustrated with your shyness. 

“He was just being polite, Brooke. I didn’t want to have him buy for the whole table in obliga-” A waitress approaches before you can finish, smiling brightly at the lot of you as she sets down a round of espresso martinis. 

“The gentlemen across the bar insisted. On him, of course.” The older woman shoots you a wink, a chorus of cheers from your friends in salute to the man across the way. He sends a kind smile, tilting his own glass and looking like he hates the sudden attention. He meets your eyes for only a moment, starting up conversation with the man beside him in a silent obedience to his promise of leaving you be. 

It’s hours before you see him again, headed outside for some fresh air after spending too much time on the dance floor. You’re sober enough to hold your own, comforted in the array of bouncers nearby if needed. You’re sat on a bench just in front of the club, craving some relief from your heels. There’s a flick of a lighter beside you, a curse when it doesn’t ignite any flame. You’re searching through your clutch instantly, offering up your own light without a second thought. 

“Didn’t take you for a smoker.” You perk at the accent, trailing the extended arm to meet the man’s gaze for the third time that evening. 

“Don’t. Not cigarettes, anyway.” He smiles through the now ignited stick, quirking his head in quiet contemplation. His eyes study you, and surprisingly, it’s almost endearing. There’s no suggestive indications to his observations, like most men you’d encounter. It’s contemplative, as if he’s trying to figure out. 

“You always stare at strangers?” Your wit pleasantly surprises him, and his grin grows despite himself. 

“Apologies, love. Just taking it all in. Mind if I sit?” You nod, thanking the cold for the constant flush of your cheeks that’ll hopefully conceal the blood that rushes to them at his words. “Never got your name.” 

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” You take his extended hand for a shake, wincing at the formality of your words. 

“Tangerine, pleasure’s all mine.” He awaits the usual ‘like the fruit’ with sudden irritation, but it never comes, so he relaxes.

“That a nickname?”

“Of sorts.” You don’t pry, not interested in scaring him off just yet. If he wanted to tell, you, he would. In his mind, Tangerine thanks you profusely. Pleased to have met someone uninterested in forcing information out of him. 

“Whose your friend?” You mean the other good-looking guy beside him the entire night, who must still be inside. 

“Brother,” he corrects, not unkind. “Hoping he won’t be trollied on the way home.” Your eyes narrow, unaccustomed to the slang. Tangerine exhales a stream of smoke away from you, wetting his lips with a twinge of amusement. 

“Drunk, love. Or wasted, as you’d put it.” A laugh escapes you, thoroughly entertained with his dramatic mock of an American accent. 

“That is not how we sound.” You nudge his shoulder with your own, defensive and patriotic for likely the first time in your life. “You guys are still salty we won.” He bellows a laugh this time, and the warm sound erupts butterflies in the stomach. 

“Blokes chucked boxes of tea in the ocean in retaliation. The fuck kind of war crime is that?” 

“One that proper fucked your economy.” You attempt your own dramatic accent, curious as to why he tries so hard to fight smiling. You assume he’s usually much more stoic without the aid of alcohol and new company. 

“Bloody hell, that was awful.” He teases with no real ill-will, stubbing out his cigarette when his brother stumbles out of the building. You hear him mutter something about ‘shit timing’ as the taller man approaches, kind smile adorning his handsome features. 

“You’ve found your Edwards!” He clasps his hands together, absolutely delighted before he sits himself in between the two of you. Tangerine looks absolutely pissed, astonished when you beam brightly at his intoxicated brother. 

“Edwards?” You question despite Tangerine’s shaking head of warning. 

“Edwards.” He assures, adjusting his suit jacket as he gets comfortable. “Wise, kind...We’ve only just met, I know. But, you see, I’m great at reading people.” 

“Christ, here we fucking go again.”

“Everything I learned about people, I learned from Thomas the-” 

“Tank engine!” You finish for him, the pair shocked at your enthusiasm. “That was my favorite show when I was little!”

“You don’t say?” The man beams, looking over at his brother with an undoubted stamp of approval. 

“Swear it. Had the stuffy for years, an entire train table set too.”

“The one with the wooden tracks you could build yourself?” 

“And the magnetic crane to lift up the figurines!” The two of you are absolutely enamored, enthralled in the conversation whilst Tangerine broods opposite you. Making a mental note to shoot his beloved brother in the foot the second he gets him alone. 

“Bloody hell, I loved that set. What a coincidence!” He turns to his brother, shaking with anger. 

“Fuckin’ unbelievable.” Is all he manages, messing with the rings on his fingers to calm himself from the outright cockblock. Fuckin’ muppet. 

“Names’ Lemon. Pleasure to meet you doll, truly. A real Edward, you are.” 

“You really think so?” The alcohol ends any fight to conceal your pleased expression, glancing over at Tangerine who forces a smile at your grant of attention. 

“Know so. Brother over here’s a Gordon, don’t you think?”

“I could see that.” This time you’re the one to study said man, lip quirking when he shifts under your gaze. 

“Alright, we should get you home.” Tan rises with a roll of his shoulders, ready to head back with his head hanging low in a failed feat. Lemon frowns, pushing away the strong arm that’s pulling at him so he can dig through the inner pocket of his expensive jacket. Pulling out a folded and well-worn sheet of paper. 

“Here comes the fucking sticker book. Of course.” 

“You know I bring it everywhere. Here, love.” Lemon peels the Edward sticker from the sheet. Sticking it onto your finger with a soft ‘boop’. You gasp, delighted. 

“The lady’s real chuffed, Lemon. Let her get back to her friends for Christ’s sake.” He pulls the man to a standing position, waving down an approaching taxi with an ear-piercing whistle. “You got a friend getting you home safe, sweetheart?” You nod, pressing the new sticker to the back of your phone and pressing your case back on it. Aiming to keep it safe indefinitely. Tan suppresses a smile, finding it absolutely adorable. He buttons his jacket, straightening in self-discipline to push away the love-sick thoughts. 

“Have a good night, you two. It was nice meeting you.” There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, the farewell and the unlikeliness of running into them again tugging at your heart strings. Weird, considering you just met the two men and you already want to get to know them more. Especially the handsome fuck with the unrelenting charm. 

“Like-wise, love.” Tangerine ushers his brother into the backseat of the car, muttering something to the driver before turning on his heel to face you again. Brows taught in consideration. He battles with himself, weighing if he’s selfish enough to try and get to know someone as seemingly kind-hearted as you. You’d deserve better. He surveys you a final time, every nerve-ending in his body begging for more. You’re about to head back inside when he clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“Any chance you’d be willing to give me your number, sweetheart? Just to make sure you get home safe?” He prays it doesn’t sound too hopeful, as desperate as he is for you to comply. You cock your head incredulously, and he swears his heart skips a beat. 

“Just to make sure I get home?”  

“And maybe to ask you to dinner. Or, you say no and I fuck off.” You chew on the inside of your cheek to suppress the excited grin. Hoping you appear nonchalant despite yourself. Taking a few steps forward, you extend your hand. Brows raising in expectation as he stares at you. He snaps out of it, digging into his pocket with a muttered ‘oh, right.’ 

“All right mate! Thought you’d never get the balls to ask her. Been going on and on about her since you nearly tackled ‘er”

“Fuck off, Lemon.” Tan seethes, eyes averting to you when you giggle through your rushed typing into his phone. “He’s drunk, pay no mind.” 

“Trollied, right?” There’s teasing heavy on your tongue, and it takes everything in him not to pull you in for a kiss right there. On the curb of some mangy club whilst the impatient driver honks in warning. 

“Right. Goodnight, love. Careful getting home, yeah?” You nod, mindlessly standing up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Night.” 

And with that, you’re headed back inside. Feeling his eyes on you the entire time. Only looking back when the door closes behind you. Ensuring he can’t see you spying. He has his head down, biting a smirk from his lips before gaining composure, tossing himself into the cab beside his brother. 

***********

“You’re not needed, I have this handled.” 

“You don’t actually. I’ve seen corpses more capable of brain activity than this, mate.” 

“Piss off.” 

“I would, but I like your girlfriend more than you, and therefore don’t want to leave her with this,” he motions to the mess of tools and table parts, “all alone.” 

The two of you sit opposite him, Lemon unfolds the discarded instruction sheet with a deep sigh. 

“You’ve got the wrong bolt on that one.”

“No I don’t.” 

“You do, mate. Considering I’m the one with the fucking instructions.” 

“See, if I was a fuckin’ mug like you, I’d need the directions. But I’m not, so I don’t.” 

“Well, you must be. Considering that’s the wrong fucking bolt.” 

You rub your temples, fighting an oncoming migraine. Taking the drill from the floor and setting it counter-clockwise to remove the damned bolt. Tan takes it from you, setting his hand on your stomach to push your criss-crossed form backward. 

“Hey!”

“What did I say? I didn’t want you doing this, Dove. You’ve just gotten those nails done. I-” He stops himself, taking a breath. “We got this covered.” 

“This seems patronizing and sexist.” 

“Quite the opposite. I respect you so much I’d rather not have you sit on the floor and do this.” 

You huff, arms crossed as you glare at him. Too worn out to argue, and figuring there’s an array of boxes to be unpacked, you scramble to your feet. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Maybe later, love. I’m quite busy at the moment.” The cheeky response gets a laugh out of even Lemon, who straightens as soon as your heated gaze snaps to him. You flip them both off, no real anger to it as you head back toward the bathroom. 

**********

Another couple hours pass and you’ve finished both bathrooms and are working on the master bedroom. Airpods in to block out the onslaught of arguments. You hum to your music, unaware of the eyes on you.

Tangerine leans against the doorway, finding comfort in watching you in your shared home. It’s weird, new, to share just about everything now. Scary, no doubt. Tan had walls around him so high it took months for you to even shake them. But you’ve done it, somehow. A little minx, he regards you, because you’ve managed to get through to him sometimes without him even realizing. He’s eternally grateful whatever scraps of good karma he had left accumulated to bring you into his life. Terrified it might one day be ripped away. Every time the thought passes his mind, his throat tightens, and he gets the overwhelming urge to hold you and never let go. 

Your startled gasp snaps him out of it, a hand clasping over your heart in shock. “Christ, Tan. Give a girl a warning.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He swallows, a beat before continuing. “I love you.” Your eyes narrow at his sweet tone, trying to uncover the mischief in his sultry voice. 

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing, honest. I can’t say I love you?” 

“You can.” You turn your head from him, suppressing a smirk as you busy yourself with folding clothes. “Just...Not in the hall, okay?” 

“What? Why?”

“It’s just,” you’re holding in a laugh now, a death wish for sure. “I don’t want Brian to hear, that’s all.” He crosses his arms, hiding his clenching fists at your teasing. 

“You think that’s funny? Taking the piss like that?”  You muffle a laugh with your sleeve, morphing it into a cough. “Tread lightly, my love.” 

“You know, I bet Brian builds loads of tables. Must be real fast at it, considering he works in construction and all. Lot’s of strong men in that field of work.”

“Y/n.” Your name is rare on his lips, singed with irritation. You’re clearly well-past having him worked up, You press on, keen on getting him back for his suggestive comment from before. 

“I always wanted to get to know a blue-collar type. So hardworking, great with their hands-” You’re in the air and flopped onto the mattress yet to have a bed frame before you can even process it. He cages you in, an arm on either side of your head to support himself as his eyes bore daggers into yours. Curls unruly and dampened with sweat. 

“Stop it. Or beloved Brian’s in a body bag by tomorrow morning, yeah?” You know he’s not entirely serious, but also entirely capable, so you nod. You press your lips together, thoroughly amused. He takes your jaw in his hand and uses his thumb to pull your lips free. Tugging you into a kiss, he’s only satisfied when you gasp after your bottom lip is bit. Not too hard, he’d never hurt you, but it’s enough warning to shut you up. He gets up, hands on his hips and breathing heavy as he watches you get to your feet. Wordlessly, he sweeps a leg under yours, chuckling when you’re collapsing back into the mattress with an umph. 

“You really are a fucking Gordon, you know that?” There’s no time to scramble away from his lunging form as he tugs you by the ankle toward him. One hand grabbing your arm and the other on your leg as he hoists you over his shoulder, cheekily reminding you of the power imbalance as he carries your squirming form down the corridor and into the kitchen. Where Lemon lays sprawled out on the now standing table. The air conditioner hums across the room, and the faux argument is ripped from your mind as you survey the accomplished tasks. 

“Nothing a little teamwork and drive can’t do,” Lemon boasts. “You know where I learned that, Tangerine?”

“If you mention the fucking trains, It’ll be the last thing you fuckin’ do.”

*************

“Tan, could you pass the lo mein?” Your boyfriend chews thoughtfully, considering it for a moment before extending it to you. Your eyes narrow when he pulls away as soon as you reach. 

“Maybe you should ask Brian.” 

“My god, we’re still on this?” 

“Should have known better than to tease him with another man, love. Gordons are prone to jealousy.”

“Fuckin’ pipe it, Lems.”

“It was a joke, baby. Are you gonna hold this over my head forever?” You find it endearing, hard to believe Tangerine could think there’s even a hint of honesty to your teasing. 

“Until I’m sure you’re proper guilty, yeah.” There’s a hint of play in his tone, and you know he only wants to hear you repeat your devotion. 

“Tan, love, baby, sweetheart, love of my life, will you please pass the lo mein to your dutifully devoted girlfriend?”

“Sure thing, love. Could have just said so.” The playful banter is stuttered to a halt when Tan sets the box beside you, the legs of the newly built table creaking as they give out. With their instinctive reflexes, Lemon and Tangerine keep the entire thing from collapsing. You’re slack-jawed, in utter shock at the absurdity and slight victory of being right, as god damn usual. 

“Dove,” your boyfriend’s voice strains under the exertion, meeting your eyes “be a doll and take everything off here?” You’re up in an instant, quickly snatching the array of food and plates off the surface. Lemon begins to laugh despite himself, and Tangerine seethes with frustration. 

“Maybe we should-”

“Don’t. Don’t even think about saying that fuckin’ muppets name.” Tan stares daggers into his brothers eyes, paying no mind to your stifled giggles. When they finally set the table on the ground, you approach him. Tugging at his arms so you can wrap yours around his waist. You press your chin into his chest, running a hand through his unruly curls. 

“Baby.” You’re soft, tone so sweet and eyes big and pleading. 

“Lose the puppy eyes, doll. It’s a no.” 

“I personally would like to finish dinner not on the floor. But that’s just me.” Lemon purses his lips, brows raised expectantly at his brother.

Tan releases a deep, shaky sigh, dark gaze softening when he meets yours. He tries to tug his head away when your hands hold it, but you’re insistent, making him face you again. 

“I’m all yours, alright? I promise.” You kiss both his cheeks and then his neck, some tension leaving him. He tilts his head in faux irritation when you stick out your pinky to him, grinning when he finally gives in and wraps his much bigger one around yours. 

**********

“It’s already so nicely decorated in here.” Brian surveys the room with a polite smile, turning to you. “All this is your eye, y/n?” You straighten, hoping the man won’t notice your boyfriend’s homicidal stare. 

“Tan has more taste, admittedly.” You’re not just trying to take the attention off you, it’s the truth. 

“Well that should be obvious, he got you.” Lemon coughs, setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder with tight, grounding grip. The slightly shorter man boils beside him, eyes boring into yours in an enraged ‘I told you so’. 

Your neighbor places his work bag on the floor, cringing at the sight of the flattened table. He approaches the brothers, clueless, patting their arms with sympathy. 

“Should have gotten me earlier, guys. You know you can call me over any time for some help. Handiwork isn’t for everyone, some things are just left for the professionals. 

“No kidding.” Tan mutters, letting Lemon pry his fingers from the biggest kitchen knife you own when the man’s back is turned to them. 

“We’ll have to grab brunch sometime, y/n.” He’s blissfully unaware as he talks between rounds of the drill. Unscrewing mistakes and penciling out where they should actually go. “I’ll fill you in on the rest of the neighbors. Some of the ones to avoid and all.” Lemon’s practically wrapped around his brother, praying to a god he doesn’t believe that the clueless fuck will shut up. You cross the room while he drills away, placing your hands on Tan’s chest and pressing into him. He can’t even see you, can’t even feel you as his blood burns his own skin. Considering the fasted method of kill and cleanup over and over again in a final stitch to calm himself. 

“You’ll have meet Cody first, of course. I’ve already told him there’s finally another young couple in the building. Thank god.” 

“S-Sorry, mate?” Lemon loosens his grip in realization, fighting a bellowing laugh. 

“My bad, I tend to drill when I’m talking. Cody gets on me for that, too, This is what I mean, sweetheart. We need to escape the doting boyfriends for a little. Enough to drive anyone nuts.” He shoots you another smile, pleased to see you nodding profusely. 

“Absolutely.” You turn to Tan, whose brows are taught in utter confusion. “They can be a real pain sometimes.”

“But, alas.” The drill whirs, he stops talking for a beat and then releases the trigger to finish. “We love them.”

“To bits and pieces.” 

Tan collapses against the counter, right exhausted from the strain of keeping his composure. Pure relief washes over him, and you let him pull you into an embrace.

“Boys, would you mind helping me turn this right side up? i think I’m all finished here.” They comply, Tan reluctantly pulling away and kissing your temple in silent apology. Together, they set it upright and each give it a good shake to ensure it’s stability. 

“Thanks, mate. I owe you.” Your boyfriend gives the now beloved neighbor a firm shake, a hint of guilt in his eyes. 

“British and handsome, you two are truly a killer pair.” Brian gathers his things and checks a notification ding on his phone. Sighing fondly. “Speak of the devil.” He waves his phone to you with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “See you all soon.” Giving you a quick hug, he exits as soon as he came.

“Most definitely not a diesel, that bloke.” 

[kristinee]

aaron taylor-johnson for esquire august 2023

[houseofbabygirls]

Heart to Heart

Tangerine never had a reason to fear death, not until you came along.

Tangerine x GN!reader, Platonic!Lemon x reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, Angst, ANGST. (I am so sorry), mentions of death, blood and wounds. Grief, Lots of crying, Some curse words.

A/N: I want to apologize in advance, I don’t know what possesed me to make the saddest thing I’ve ever written but here it is. I love the twins so much and it hurts me to make. I also know that the codenames make no sense in the setting but like I didn’t want to make up fake names so were gonna pretend it makes sense. I hope you guys like it! Here’s to hoping for some Fluff in the future!

Tangerine had never been a very soft person. He grew up rough, with Lemon being the only constant in his life. He never really understood the necessity of kindness or comfort. He wasn’t accustomed to soft touches and heartfelt words, he was raised on sternness and hard punches, a deadly combination that forced him into a life of killing, pulling Lemon into it with him.  He was used to the gore and blood by now, it was comforting in a sick sense. A sense of security that he had no problem with until he met you. 

You and your fruity shampoo, and silky smooth skin. An absolute 180 from the life he had made for himself. You were funny and kind and best of all you put up with his bullshit. Well more like calling him out on it. But for some reason unknown to him, you loved him within every inch of your life. 

When the relationship was fresh he was reserved, he didn’t allow you to know him. He hid his feelings, hoping that it would discourage you enough to get you to leave. It’s not like he really wanted that but he was so terrified with how you made him feel. He’d rather get rid of you than acknowledge that he was deeply in love with you. He was more comfortable with suppressing his feelings than facing them head on. So he tried his best to keep you at arms length, but you were just as stubborn as the cockney. You didn’t relent until he finally admitted how he really felt, he had finally broke down after he saw how close you had gotten with Lemon. His brother was the most important thing in his life until he met you. 

Lemon was like the end all, be all of Tangerine’s relationships. If Lemon didn’t like the flavor of the week then Tang would send them on their way. But Lemon liked you from the moment he was allowed to meet you. You were just as sarcastic and witty and you were tough. That’s what really stood out to Lemon when he got to know you. Most of the people that Tangerine chose were the damsel in distress type. Always helpless and codependent. They let the Brit walk all over them but you, you were different. You stood up to Tangerine and his less than savory temper, making it known that you wouldn’t stand for being treated like you were below him.

Slowly but surely he let himself get lost in the relationship, he let himself be happy. He learned to allow himself happiness rather than punish himself for it. He deserved a private paradise outside of his job and the people that come with it. He had a family with you and Lemon, something that he could only dream of as a little kid. 

He had finally found a certain sense of peace with you, he didn’t have to be alone anymore. He was used to coming home from a job to a quiet, cold flat. The kind of place that made you shiver in loneliness. A suffocating kind of silence forced its way down your throat when you stayed for too long. 

That’s why Tangerine never did, he got job after job and dragged Lemon around with him. Then when you moved in you managed to change his perspective on that cold place. You made it warm and homely and instead of being drowned in loneliness you were wrapped in an overwhelming feeling of love. It was a drastic switch that the brunette wasn’t sure he could handle. But after coming home time after time to you doing such painfully domestic chores around the house, he figured he could get used to it. He tried to grasp onto that sliver of normalcy with everything he had. 

He liked coming home to you, it was the one thing he had ever promised you. The one thing he felt he could promise, even if he himself knew it to be a lie. He hated lying to you but when you smiled so sweetly at him after he promised to be home for dinner he had to keep that look on your face even if it killed him. 

But this time, he wasn’t so sure he was gonna make it home. This entire job had gone down the toilet the moment he and Lemon stepped foot on that godforsaken train. The kid died, the case was missing and he was stuck under the thumb of one of the most ruthless crime bosses in the world. He didn’t give up though, he felt as if he could just sit down and accept his fate but then he thought about you. About that sweet kiss you had given him before he left. That last “I love you” was circling his brain as he rampaged up and down the train. 

When he found Lemon’s body he was sent over the edge. Every bit of his body was sent into autopilot as he went to find the bastard that did that to his brother. He was blinded by a rage that settled in his chest, masking the sorrow that was buried behind it. He wanted to scream and cry but he knew he had to make it back to you, his Y/n. 

When he confronted Ladybug and the Prince, he had you in his mind. He was going to fight tooth and nail to ensure that he got to see you. He imagined walking into your room and finding you wearing those stupid bumble bee pajamas that you insisted were the most comfortable pair you’ve ever owned. He hated those fucking pajamas but for some reason when he thought about them in those moment, they were the cutest damned things he’d ever seen. He pictured that sleepy smile when he’d inevitably wake you as he climbed  into bed. You were always so happy to see him, it was something he had to get used to when he met you. You were like the sun, always bright and warm. Always laughing and smiling, even when you didn’t want to. You were his happiness, and he was gonna see his sun shine again. 

When the gun went off, Tangerine felt scared. He’d never been scared of death before. Life hadn’t been kind to him, he’d seen the grime and shit on earth before he was even a teenager. He dealt with things worse than death in his time so an eternal rest never seemed to be such a big deal to him. But that was before he met you, now when faced with death he was scared of leaving you. He had never had anything to look forward to, sure his brother was something to live for but Lemon understood how he felt. But when he thought of all the things he’d miss out on with you, he felt terrified. There’d be no more Sunday dinners, or movie nights. No more loving kisses and soft sex. No growing old, no kids, there was no more time with you. 

He thought he had a lifetime with you, it seemed silly now to have thought that. He was an assassin, there were no tomorrows. But you made it seem possible you made him want more than what he was taught to want. As the blood rushed out of his neck he reached out, he didn’t know what he was asking for, but he knew deep down he was begging for a redo. A miracle, he was choking on his own blood and the tears that streamed down his face were out of grief not pain. He wanted to warn you, he wanted to apologize for leaving you. For breaking his promise, that stupid fucking promise that he knew he shouldn’t have made. He made it for you, and for himself, It was his reason to come home. 

And now he was dying alone on a train in the middle of Japan. His last conscious thought was of the color of your eyes, and that dark shade they turned when you cried. It made his heart ache until it stopped beating. 

Lemon was unsure of what to do when he found his brother, his body was propped upright, a look of grief frozen onto his face. He realized he had never prepared himself for this moment. He was always thought if either of them were to outlive the other it would be Tangerine. He was the one that paid attention, he was the one with something to live for. He was supposed to make it, he had a reason to go home. Lemon had never seen anyone make his brother as happy as you did. 

The crushing thought that he would have to face you when this was over was enough to make him sick to his stomach. He paid his respects to his brother and held his hand until he felt he was ready. Not that he believed he ever would be, leaving Tangerine behind was the one thing he feared. You would never be able to see him again, and in a way Lemon thought that might have been a blessing. Your last memory of Tangerine would be of a happy moment, all smiles and laughs. Not some grimm and sorrowful goodbye, where you cried over his body. 

You would be able to live with the good. You would remember Tangerine the way he was. A sassy, stubborn, loveable partner who did nothing but make you happy. It was unfair, Lemon thought. He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to leave without his brother, he was his best friend and the thought that once he left he never got to see him again made the idea of staying there and accepting his fate just a little more tempting. 

If he stayed you would have no way to know that they were gone. No one knew about you, Tangerine made sure of it. You were his secret, the one thing that he kept locked up in fear of putting you in danger. Never once thinking of the pain he would cause you if he left you all alone. He didn’t have time to worry for himself, he didn’t feel the need to worry over himself. But now as Lemon took one last glance back at his twin he really wished Tan would have thought about it. 

And as Lemon made the familiar walk to your shared flat, he wished he would have begged Tangerine to think about it. The door to your home had always been an inviting sight to the Twin, it was a symbol of safety, of home. But as he stared at the dark wood now it only seemed to bring him grief. This door, this piece of wood was the only thing keeping him from ruining your life forever. It was now a threshold he didn't want to cross. Because once you opened this door, he had to break your heart. And if any one didn’t deserve to be hurt, it was you. He was frozen in his place, his thoughts swimming, making him unable to move. 

I could just leave now. He thought. If he walked away right now then he wouldn’t have to do this. He wouldn’t have to relive the worst moment of his life. He looked down to the golden pendant on his neck and sighed heavily. He couldn't leave you like this, he owed it to his brother to be there for you. He owed it to you, you were his friend. No, you were his family and he wouldn’t turn his back on you like that.

He lifted his hand to the wood and knocked strongly a few times. Now that he was paying attention he could hear the soft music playing from inside, and the rustling of you moving frantically about the place.

“Tan, Honey, I told you that you don’t have to knock. It’s your place too for god sakes.” You said as you opened the door. You were looking to the floor at first and when you looked up to only see Lemon, your smile faded into a look of confusion. He had a solemn look on his face and when you truly stared at him, you cocked your head to the side.

“Lemon.” You greeted and looked to either side of him to see no sign of your Husband.

“Did Tan get held up at work again? I swear, you do none of the work.” You teased and Lemon laughed slightly then he felt tears burn his eyes against his will. 

Your smile dropped and you shook your head, shock had flooded your senses. You released the door and took a step back.

“Where is he? Lemon, where is my Husband?” You said, your voice breaking as he reached out to you.

You slapped his hands away, and choked on a sob.

“Lemon, please. Say something, where is he?” You asked, your throat constricting around the lump forming.

“I’m sorry.” 

Was all he said as tears fell out of his eyes, his vision blurring as he looked at you. You had never thought about this moment before, how fucking badly it would hurt. Tangerine was a careful man, he was thoughtful and he was precalculated. Your biggest fear had never once been something you truly considered. 

You felt bile rise into your throat at his words, and you let out a sob that had been holding your body hostage. The pain you felt in that moment was something incomprehensible, a tidal wave of grief crashed into you like a fucking train. Your chest felt tight and your breathing was shallow. 

Lemon was crying silently at the door, and when you looked at him your heart broke. He had tears and snot all over his face and you made the few steps it took to get to him and held onto him like he was your life support.

“Oh, Lemon.” You sobbed and he let out something akin to a wail. His hands gripped harshly into your shirt and you cradled his head as you both cried. He was mumbling out apology after apology and you shushed him as he broke down.

“I'm so so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking sorry.” He cried, your heart broke further as he keened. His normal aloof nature, crushed by the grief that was eating him alive.

When the two of you had finally calmed down. You pulled away from him slightly and wiped the tears that painted his face. He let out a laugh that sounded more like a blubber and you smiled painfully. You wiped your own tears after and looked up at the ceiling to try to avoid the oncoming wave of new ones. 

“Was he.. Um.. was he alone?” You croaked out and Lemon shakily breathed in. He couldn’t find it in himself to voice his answer so he nodded and you let out a small cry.

“Did you… Did you kill who did it?” 

Lemon thought about his answer for a moment, thinking of all the things that he could say to ease this pain for you.

“I uh, I suppose I did, yeah.” He said quietly and you gave him a watery smile. This was something he could give to you, a reprieve from this hell that he had put you through.

“Ok, well in that case do you want to come in for tea? I made a pot and I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Your voice was small as you asked and Lemon chuckled as you moved to let him in. He kissed the side of your head lovingly and walked into the flat. A wave of grief passed through him as he took the scent of your home. That scent that was a perfect mix of you and Tangerine. Something that once brought him great comfort, but in this moment it made him nauseous.

You ushered him to sit on the couch and he watched as you moved slowly around the kitchen pulling down the mugs and making his tea exactly how he liked it. His lips tugged upwards as he watched you. You just received the worst news of your entire life and yet here you were making sure that he was okay and taken care of. You held him as he broke down. He didn’t know how you did it. You had to be an angel, something that was not of this world, you were too good. Too pure to be put into a world that was this cold and this unfair.

You came to his side and placed the mugs down on the table. He took your hand in his and you sighed out heavily as you placed your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do now.” You said, your voice was broken and your demeanor was defeated.

“Yeah, I never thought this far ahead.” He said and you huffed out a laugh.

“You’re sticking around right?” You asked, fear creeping into your chest.

Lemon squeezed your hand, and looked down at you.

“Yeah, Kid. I ain't going nowhere.” 

You looked up at him and nodded tearily, too choked up to speak and you didn’t feel you had to. His face had said everything that it needed to. You had no idea how to deal with this new territory, never once having thought about this day actually arriving but when you looked at Lemon, your brother, your family. You had no doubt in your mind that you’ll make it. If not for yourselves than for Tangerine.

[feralforfruit]

Y’all where can i fucking find some atj fics with himself in it???? SLIDE THE FUCKING LINKS!!

[storiesforallfandoms]

fast ~ pietro maximoff;marvel

word count: 3083

request?: no

description: he's fast, she's intrigued. a little research and she's meeting up with the speedster that's supposed to be her enemy

pairing: pietro maximoff x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/m, marvel type violence mentioned, clint's injury from the beginning of aou mentioned

masterlist (one, two, three)

"Barton's down," came Natasha's voice in my earpiece.

I turned to Clint, who was just across the clearing from me. He was on the ground with a hand over a wound that was steadily becoming bloodier. I had just finished dealing with the guards who were attacking me, so I started to run towards Clint. "I got him."

I had nearly reached him when something hit me, launching me back. I thought for a second that I had been shot and expected to feel the warming sensation of blood from a wound. Instead, I was just in pain from hitting the ground. I couldn't find any other visible wound. Weirder still, I couldn't see who attacked me. There was no one for as far as I could see.

I got to my feet and started for Clint again. A gust of wind caused me to stumble a little, and suddenly, there was someone stood in front of me.

He was young, like maybe mid 20s, with white-blonde hair, wearing a tracksuit and sneakers. He definitely didn't look like he belonged outside of a former Hydra site.

My gun was clenched in my hand, ready to fire if he tried anything. He must've been the one who attacked me earlier, and I had a feeling he would again. It was just a waiting game to see which of us would move first. My eyes flickered to Clint, still groaning in pain. I needed to get to him and start to get him to the jet.

"I just want to help my friend," I told the guy. "I don't want to hurt you, but you're standing between me and him, and if he dies because of that then I will have to hurt you."

"I'd like to see you try," he said with a smirk. He had an accent that I couldn't place.

I clenched my jaw. He was watching me closely, basically studying my every move. As I started to move my arm to shoot, he suddenly disappeared and reappeared behind me. I realized a second too late that he had super speed, as he was throwing my gun to the ground and wrapping his arms around me, trapping mine to my side. I tried to wriggle myself free, but it was useless. He had me in a tight grip, and he didn't seem like he was going to let me go.

I threw my head back and smashed it against his nose. He cried out in pain, but only loosened his grip slightly. I turned in his arms, ready for another head butt, but paused when he looked at me. His eyes were blue. I had nothing else to note besides that: they were blue. A very beautiful blue. I was so distracted by them that I didn't even notice his hold on me had loosened considerably. I don't think he noticed either. Every ounce of cockiness had suddenly evaporated from his face.

"(Y/L/N), do you copy?"

The sudden sound from my earpiece snapped me from my trance. Clearly it did the same to him, because suddenly he let me go and disappeared again. I was still dazed for a second until I heard a groan of pain.

I quickly rushed to Clint's side. He had lost a lot of blood, but he'd be okay. I took my jacket off and pressed it to Clint's wound. He sucked in a pained breath as I did.

"I'm sorry, but I have to," I told him.

"(Y/N)!" came Steve's voice again.

"I'm here," I responded. "I have Barton. I was...distracted."

"Stark as the scepter. We're getting to the jet and we'll get you both. Is Barton okay?"

I looked down at Clint. His face was pale, but he was still breathing.

"He'll need medical attention," I told Steve.

"We'll be there right away."

~~~~~~

Hours later, when we were back in the tower and Clint was taken care of, I was still thinking of the guy from the woods. Why did he let me go? He clearly was not on our side, and he definitely had the upper hand over me. But he let me go, let me save Clint.

I guess it also begged the question, why did I let him go?

I was walking through the tower when I noticed Steve and Maria talking. Steve noticed me and nodded for me to join them.

"How's Clint?" I asked.

"He's okay," Steve said. "Dr. Cho is working with Tony and Bruce to heal his wounds. He'll be fine."

I nodded. Good, my delay didn't cause too much damage.

"You said you were distracted while on your way to Clint," Steve said. It wasn't a question, but I still nodded. "Were you attacked?"

"Something like that," I responded.

Maria held out the tablet she was holding to me. "Was it by one of these two?"

I took the tablet and looked at the screen. My eyes immediately landed on a picture of the guy form the woods. Next to him was a young woman with long, dark hair and green eyes.

"Him," I said, gesturing to the speedster. "He's the one who...I had a run in with. Who are they?"

"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff," Maria responded. "Twins who got powers from Strucker's experiments."

I felt a weird wave of relief wash over me at learning the woman was his twin.

"What's her power?" I asked.

"Neuro-electric interfacing, telekinesis, and mental manipulation."

I passed the tablet back to Maria. "Do we know anything else about them?"

"Nothing yet."

I tried not to visibly slump.

I said goodbye to Steve and Maria and continued my walk down the hallway. I started to realize I was walking in the direction of one of (yes one of) Tony's work rooms. I started to slow my walk, glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone else was coming. After checking that the work room was also empty, I quickly ducked in. The room lit up the second I had the door shut.

"JARVIS?" I said.

"Yes, Miss (Y//L/N)?" came the voice of Tony's AI assistant.

"Can you access information on the names Wanda and Pietro Maximoff?"

Within seconds, JARVIS had dozens of images projected around the room; a picture of two kids I recognized as young Pietro and Wanda on the back of an ambulance, an attached news headline reading "Sokovian Children Saved After Several Days Trapped Under Rubble"; videos of Pietro and Wanda at protests in Sokovia; profiles about them from Strucker's base.

"Jesus," I breathed. "No wonder they're on Strucker's side. Life dealt them with the shittiest hand."

"I believe they are the only ones who have survived the experimentation," JARVIS told me. "Mr. Stark was discussing their escape with Dr. Banner earlier."

"You can't tell Tony I was asking, okay JARVIS? This is between us?"

"Is everything alright, Miss (Y/L/N)?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

I looked at one of the pictures of Pietro. It was one taken during a protest against the Sokovian government. He was stood beside his sister, not joining in on the chants and yelling, but still with a look of anger on his face. I was brought back to our moment in the woods, thinking about his arms around me as I looked into his blue eyes. The thought alone took my breath away and made my heart rate pick up. I could still feel the warmth of his body against mine, his body temperature higher than anyone's I could remember. Probably from his powers.

I shook my head. No, I couldn't be thinking of this way. He was the enemy.

But was he really? I had plenty of evidence in front of me to justify why he and Wanda chose the path they did. Sure, it wasn't the "right" path - not to use anyways - but it was the only option they felt like they had. I couldn't blame them for that, or for trying to stop us when we were trying to infiltrate Strucker's base. Especially when one of the pictures JARVIS was showing me was a missile that resulted in the Maximoff's parents dying with Tony's last name plastered on the side.

After some consideration, I said, "JARVIS, we need to find a way to get a message to someone."

~~~~~~

I couldn't go all the way back to Sokovia without bringing attention to myself, and I didn't want any of my teammates to know what I was doing until I spoke to Pietro first. So, instead, I went to a trail that was a short walk from the tower. It was surrounded by trees enough that it somewhat recreated mine and Pietro's meeting spot, minus the snow.

With JARVIS' help, I put out a message that I hoped would reach Pietro, asking him to meet me on the trail. I was going to tell him what I knew about him, and hopefully I could convince him, and in turn Wanda, to join our team. I knew it would be a long shot to ask them to side with Tony, but it was worth a shot.

I was sat on the bench I told Pietro I'd meet him on. I kept my head down so no one on the trail would recognize me. As time ticked on, I started to worry he wouldn't show up. Maybe he didn't even get the message. JARVIS could do a lot, but he couldn't work miracles, which was what we needed to reach Pietro.

But suddenly, I wasn't alone. A quick gust of wind blew around me, and when I looked up, Pietro was sat next to me.

"You came," I said, immediately cringing at how stupid that sounded.

"I was intrigued," he said. "How did you reach me?"

"Technology can do incredible things," I replied.

He looked impressed. He leaned back against the bench, stretching an arm out behind me. He was so close again, it was making my heart race again.

"What is your plan?" he asked.

It took me a moment to remember why I had asked him to meet me. I stood from the bench. "Care for a walk? If you're even able to do that."

He smiled and stood with me. We started walking the trail, going further into the trees. The trail was basically empty, besides a couple that was walking towards us. I ducked my head, letting my hair fall in front of my face to disguise me. I heard the couple exchange a pleasant greeting with Pietro as they passed by.

"Must be tiring to always have to hide your face when you're out," he said once the couple had passed us by.

"Usually I don't have to hide it," I said. "Only when I don't want any attention brought to me."

"Like right now, while you're out with the enemy."

I stopped walking to face him. "You're not the enemy."

He scoffed. "That's not how it seemed in Sokovia."

"Well, I didn't know who you were in Sokovia."

"And you know now?"

I nodded. "I've been doing my research."

He crossed his arms, waiting for me to go on. So, I did. I told him everything JARVIS had shown me about him and Wanda; the missile, the protests, the experimentations from Strucker. He listened in silence, but I could see in his eyes that he was amazed that I really had done my research.

When I finished speaking, he waited a moment before saying, "I did research on you, too."

I raised an eyebrow and said, playfully, "Probably not as thorough."

He chuckled. "No. Whatever technology you have is leagues beyond what I have. Although, it wasn't too hard to do research when your face is on every TV screen and billboard in existence."

"Touché."

"One of the seven Avengers," Pietro went on. "One of the only members without any powers. Just some martial arts and weapons training."

"And a background as a SHIELD agent," I pointed out. "That definitely had a huge role in landing the gig."

"You came to our base to take that stick that Strucker had."

I nodded. "It's a scepter. It belonged to Thor's brother, and Thor says it has powers from one of the Infinity stones. In the wrong hands, it can be used to dangerous purposes. I mean...as you probably know given what Strucker was doing with it."

Pietro didn't speak, but I could tell what I said had gotten through to him. There was no way he could talk me into believing Strucker's experiments weren't a bad thing when so many of his test subjects had died. I saw the numbers from JARVIS, I knew it was a miracle that Pietro and Wanda survived.

"So what?" Pietro asked, suddenly seeming angry. "You called me out here to tell me you know all about me? To try and capture me? I can outrun whatever ambush you have set up for me."

I shook my head. "There's no ambush. It's just me. My team doesn't even know I'm here."

He stepped towards me. "That was a mistake."

I didn't flinch at his attempt of a threat. "I'm not scared of you, Pietro."

He seemed to hesitate at my words. He was standing near inches from me now. I had to remind myself to breathe, that I was there for a reason beyond these feelings of attraction that I was having. If I could convince Pietro to join our team, then I could deal with the fact that I had somehow developed feelings for a man who I had met once after he attacked me.

"I want you and Wanda to join us," I said, finally breaking the silence.

Pietro scoffed. "'Us'? You want us to join your ragtag team of superheroes? Led by the man who killed our parents?"

"That wasn't Tony. That was his father, and Tony Stark is leagues beyond his father. There's a reason be made the iron suit and became a hero - "

"Because he was kidnapped for the weaponry he made," Pietro cut me off.

"And then he realized the mistakes he was making by being a weapons company," I added. "Listen, I get it. I'm not saying what happened to you and Wanda should be placed aside. It shouldn't. You two should be fucking angry about the hands you've been dealt. But the way to fix things isn't by joining a terrorist group, because that's what Hydra is...was. Whatever, either way they are not the good guys."

"But you are?"

"We try to be! We don't manipulate vulnerable people into being test subjects of our insane experiments, like Strucker did!"

I didn't realize how close we had gotten until I heard more footsteps on the trail. A jogger was running towards us. I quickly buried my head against Pietro's chest without thinking, waiting for the jogger to pass us by. It wasn't until I heard their footsteps retreating that I realized what I had done. I pulled away slowly, trying to take in the short period of time I had allowed some physical contact between us.

"Sorry," I said, my voice so low I wasn't even sure if he had heard me.

He didn't respond. Instead, after a moment of hesitation, Pietro reached for my face and pulled it towards him. I was shocked by the feeling of his lips against mine. But it felt...good. It felt right. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting his white-blonde locks intertwine around my fingers. One of his hands stayed cupping my cheek while the other moved down my body to wrap around my lower back. He pulled me towards him till our bodies were pressed together.

For a moment, I think we both forgot everything else around us. We forgot that we were supposed to be "enemies", that I was a very well known face to the public, that we had been near shouting at each other just seconds ago. For a moment, we were two people attracted to one another, kissing in the middle of the woods.

Pietro was the one who pulled away first. He completely untangled himself from me and backed away a few steps. I felt an ache in my chest as I thought he was regretting what had happened.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I...I shouldn't have - "

"No, don't apologize," I said. "I...am more than okay with what we just did."

He raised an eyebrow at me, that cocky grin starting to tug at the corners of his lips. "Really?"

I rolled my eyes. "How inflated will it make your ego if I tell you that I think I've wanted to kiss you since our encounter in Sokovia?"

"Oh, it would greatly inflate my ego, but it would also make me think you're crazy considering I was attacking you then."

"I think 'attacking' is a pretty heavy term for the fact that you shoved me at super speed and then wrapped your arms around me."

"You don't know what I would've done if you hadn't tried to smash my nose in."

I didn't have a comeback for that, but part of me had a feeling that Pietro wouldn't have done anything too drastic then. If he wanted to, he would've before we had our little staring contest.

He stepped towards me, closing the small gap between us. I was hoping he was going to kiss me again, but he just reached for me to pull me to him.

"I can't promise Wanda will go for this idea," he told me. "Especially when she realizes that I'm even considering it because of a woman."

"You don't have to tell her about us."

"She'll know. Twins always know."

"Well, if you and her are so connected with your twin telepathy or whatever, she will give us the benefit of the doubt for your sake." I hope, anyways.

He kissed my forehead, leaving a tingling sensation. "I will try to talk to her. But whatever her response is, I would like to keep meeting with you."

I smiled. "That could definitely be arranged."

He smiled back at me. He gave me another quick peck on the lips before suddenly vanishing once again. I stumbled a little in his wake. I took a moment to collect myself before I started my walk back to the tower.

I was just leaving the trail when I realized I was still smiling.

[sadesluvr]

The Bride — PART THREE.

PART ONE / PART TWO

A/N: This is so late omg...September was a busy month for me but I promised I wouldn't forget y'all! Sorry for any mistakes <3

Warnings: Smut + Murder. This chapter contains the theme of domestic violence and victim guilt. Please leave a relationship if your partner hits you, it's not okay and will likely escalate to full blown abuse. Skip to the paragraph beginning "All it took was..." if you'd like to avoid this.

Word count: 3.4K

“Jude’s family have a boat. Every morning on his birthday, he takes it out for a drive – early morning when the water’s calmest. No one should be there but him. The bay is a ten-minute drive from here. I’m thinking that I surprise him, get him to drive me a few miles from the shore, then I knock him out with one of those fishing weights.” 

“What if you can’t hit hard enough?” 

“Then you’re gonna have to teach me how to shoot.” 

You’d gone to the dock separately; with the Twins clambering into their rented car whilst you jumped into a discreet bicitaxi, squashed next to a random stranger on a rickety bike. The colourful streets became a blur as you passed them, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were on a horrible, stomach-churning ride, ultimately screaming to yourself to get off. You were scared that it was all going to be over, all so suddenly and unexpectedly on a random trip to Havana. What was life going to be like without Jude? Why had you decided to trust two random British guys to help take care of your domestic dispute? 

What if everything backfired? 

You didn’t feel any better stepping off the bike and onto the brown boards of the bay, eyeing the familiar licence plate of the rows of white yachts, tourist boats, and fishermen, making the occasional glance down at the deep blue waters below. Rippling; uneasy...the literal unknown. 

Other than a few locals fishing, it was rather quiet. At least until you heard the Twins’ hurried footsteps; with Tangerine’s dress shoes clicking against the ground. Even though they were slated to be ‘professionals’, the moustached man seemed eerily panicked; finding it difficult to walk straight as he constantly fumbled with the gun under his jacket. From the 24 hours or so you’d spent with him you knew he was rather erratic but had never expected him to be so rattled by the situation.  

“Morning darl’,” Lemon said, briefly nodding his head at you. “Looks like today’s the big day. Give ‘em hell, would ya?” 

“I’ll try,” you grinned, chuckling half-heartedly as you swallowed deeply, trying to hold back last nights’ meal. “You should hide in the wine cellar. It might be a little cramped, but it beats the downstairs.” 

Lemon silently raised his brows, patting your shoulder before he scurried onto the boat, desperate not to be seen, and leaving you alone with Tangerine on the dock. He was handsome of course, but there was something rather striking about the way the blue of his eyes sparkled in the morning sunrise, casting a pinkish-golden hue on his skin. Maybe you were still partially hungover, or perhaps it was just plain old lust, but you felt your heart skip a beat as he walked up to you, staring at you intently. 

“You should probably go inside. Jude could show up any moment now.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I will in a minute,” he said, brushing you off as his jaw clenched. “You got everythin’?” 

“Don’t I always?” You snorted. “Why’re you asking? Are you worried about me?” 

“Nah, I’m just making sure you’re prepared, init?” Tangerine sniffed, briefly diverting his gaze. “This ain’t no movie, alright? I know you’re a right little spitfire n’ all, but you ain’t never seen a dead body. You haven’t gotten your hands dirty like we have.” 

It was true. All your work had been purely operative; sneaky and based on mind games – this was the real deal.  Rubbing your temples, you sighed before looking up at him. 

“I’ll get out of this, ok? I always do. I’ll use the residuals for a therapist or something.” You laughed, but Tangerine didn’t share your smile, instead rolling his eyes and swiping at his moustache. 

“Just — We’re on deck if you need anythin’ alright?” 

You nodded, taking note of the grave look Tangerine flashed you before climbing onto the boat in search of his brother. Sighing, you nervously glanced around at the bay before following them, the spare gun in the garter under your dress brushing against your leg as your lifted it; a reminder of your final option. This was real, and you weren’t going to be able to take it back. 

It was a few minutes before you heard commotion on the back of the boat, with Jude’s loafers making a slight squeaking sound as they approached the bottom deck. He recoiled slightly upon seeing you, a mimosa in either hand, wearing a big smile and his grandmother’s pearls. 

“Happy birthday,” you grinned. “Thought I’d surprise you.” 

“Fuck…” Jude said under his breath, shaking his head. He walked over and took the glass from your hands, raising his eyebrows as his way of saying thanks.  

“That’s my wife, always surprising me…” he said sarcastically before taking a sip. “Why are you here? You never get up before 7.” 

“Can’t I do something nice for you?” You scoffed. “You’re thirty now. It’s a new start.” 

“Don’t remind me…” he sighed. “You know when my father was this age he’d already had three children?” 

You snickered into your glass. 

“You’ve never expressed an interest.” 

“Just saying,” he shrugged, glancing around the deck suspiciously before taking another sip. “Maybe if you weren’t away all the time, we’d would’ve been able to start a family.” 

Shutting your eyes, you shrugged, brushing off one of the many gaslighted statements Jude had given to you over the years of your marriage. It wasn’t anything new of course, but it still agitated you; hurt you, even, but you managed to find a way to regain your composure. 

Just hang in there a little longer. 

“Start the engine already. We can talk about this after.” 

 Jude rolled his eyes and marched back up onto the top deck. Your gaze was fixated blankly on the narrow staircase, listening to the scraping sounds of equipment being moved about and eventually the boat leaving the harbour; the clanging of metal chains reading as an omen. It was all painfully metaphoric; and you wondered whether you really wanted to go through with this. 

After all, he was thirty now, and that usually meant a new beginning. He was annoyed at your presence, yes; that was a given, but you were beginning to consider that maybe, just maybe, he’d change.  Kids had never been in the picture until now, and you took that as a sign that maybe he was having an epiphany too. It was unfathomable to you that the past seven years of your life had been an entire waste, that there was no reward for what you’d endured whatsoever.  

Forget the Twins; this was about you. You knew Jude, and they didn’t. 

You could make this work. 

Eventually, Jude put the engine on pause, and you were left bobbing on the water, roughly fifteen minutes from shore. You raised a brow as he came down, a strange sense of dread wiping over you as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Fuck the plan; if you didn’t off him, you were certain that drinking an operating a boat would do the trick. 

“If you’re serious about kids, then maybe we could start fresh?” You questioned; your voice noticeably soft as you fiddled with your necklace. 

“Yeah, right.” He snorted, barely bothering to look up. 

“I’m serious, Jude,” you continued, sitting up in your seat. “You’re thirty, I’m two years away from that…We’re not getting younger and you’re the only love I’ve known. It’s time for us to be adults now.” 

He seemed to freeze at the word ‘love’. Admittedly, it wasn’t a phrase you’d used of late, if ever. Pouting his lip, he turned to face you, eyeing you up and down before he spoke. 

“You serious?” 

“Yes.” You pleaded. You could practically feel your insides turning into yourself, but you continued anyway. “I know about your affairs, and I know that you brought one of them along on this trip. But once we leave here, I’ll forget about it, I swear. We can focus on a family.” 

Jude pursed his lips, rubbing his hand over his mouth pensively. His eyes were like saucers; glassy and round, and you could only decipher that he was feeling guilty. Guilt about the funds, guilt about his infidelity...everything. You felt a tingle in your heart, and in your loins, even. 

“I haven’t fucked you in a while…I was starting to forget what you felt like.” He mused, walking over to you and playing with your necklace, eyes moving down towards your collarbone and exposed décolletage. “Hm. If you’re serious, then we may as well start now…” 

Your brows twitched upwards. The Twins were on the boat, and you were certain that they wouldn’t enjoy such a sordid display; for separate and distinct reasons entirely. Yet, that wasn’t the only thing holding you back. 

You grinned, but it wasn’t because you were happy.  

“Not without getting a test first.” 

Jude visibly recoiled. 

“Excuse me?” 

You shrugged. 

“Don’t play dumb, Jude. It’s only fair that I ask.” 

He slumped his shoulders, a frowny pout wiping across his lips as he tried to wrap his head around the request, as if you’d spoken to him in Klingon. You paid no attention to the erratic bounce of his leg, or the subtle way his jaw ticked – none of it really scared you. Jude was simply being the same person he’d been since the beginning; a whiny manbaby. 

He hadn’t even denied being unfaifthul.  

“Besides, I haven’t been loyal, either.” You finished nonchalantly. 

His movements paused, and he broke his gaze from staring somewhere in the corner of the room. 

“You what?” 

“You had your vices and I had mine. I slept with the concierge a couple of times – we were always safe, but you never know —“  

Before you knew it, there was a sharp jab to your nose, which turned into a burning, and eventually a numbness. The pain began to throb almost immediately, and all you could do was stare wide eyed at the man opposite you – the man you’d once loved – as he resumed what he was doing, casually fixing his watch as if he hadn’t just struck you across the face. 

Panting, your fingers trembled as you braced yourself, expecting droplets of blood. Instead, you were met with a shrug. 

“Oh, come on,” he huffed. “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t stand the thought of you with another man.” 

You didn’t respond, and he scoffed. 

“It was a mistake – I was just angry. I won’t do it again, and I never will, ok?” 

You remained silent, instead staring blankly as you turned around, with Jude barely casting so much as a glance at you as you disappeared into the bathroom. It was only a few moments before you returned, the trembling hand on your nose replaced with two hands on a gun, one cupping the barrel and the other the trigger. 

“You’re not serious --” 

All it took was two bullets to his chest, the sound of the releasing mechanism ringing out on the boat. It was loud, but knowing you were so many miles off shore you knew that it was ultimately nothing. When the smoke cleared, you were left with a slowly dying body, scarlet circles widening as they seeped through the white material of his polo shirt. His eyes were still open; and inexplicably they looked at you with more emotion then they ever had when he was alive. 

You barely had a moment to yourself when The Twins scrambled out from their hiding spot, with Lemon taking his position next to you; arms folded and a bored expression on his face, and Tangerine on your other side. 

“Are you sure this was your first time firing a gun?” 

“Lemon, this ain’t the fuckin’ time --” 

“I’m just sayin’,” the dark-skinned man said exasperatedly. “She’s bloody good at everything. You sure you ain’t some secret agent, girl?” 

“With all due respect, Lemon, let’s not get on her fuckin’ nerves,” Tangerine continued, holding a hand up as if to slow his brother down. “She’s just killed her bloody husband for God’s sake, that ain’t fuckin’ easy --” 

“She fires better than you.” 

“That ain’t true.”  

“I thought we were supposed to be liftin’ her up?” Lemon continued in disbelief before biting his lip. “I know just the thing. There was an episode of Thomas where --” 

“Finish that sentence and you’ll be on the ground with the bastard.” 

“Easy, let’s not get too hasty,” Lemon replied, eyes wide and lips stretched into a frown, his hands outstretched as if he were surrendering. “All I know is that I ain’t dealin’ with that body o’ his. I don’t like blood.” 

Tangerine merely cocked his head in disbelief. 

“It makes me queasy.” 

The moustached man sighed, shaking his head as he cast his gaze to the ground. Blood was beginning to seep into the fine cracks of the ships, decking, all the while you’d gone missing. Considering there weren’t many places for you to hide, the man correctly assumed that you were up deck, steering the boat aimlessly as they continued to bob along the water, where the cold Atlantic was hitting the warmth of the Gulf of Mexico. The recipe for a perfect storm, yet all was silent. 

“Alright,” the man sniffed, placing his shiny cufflinks in his back pocket and rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll chuck him over. Bring the weights, would ya?” 

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚

“ ‘Ere ya go.” 

“What’s this?” Lemon replied as he looked down at the pamphlet in his hands. The three of you were cooped up in a shitty motel, practically en-route to leaving the country. Once Jude’s family found out that you were both missing (or that their son was gone and you remained) there was certainly about to be a manhunt. Hell, you might’ve even been a suspect. 

“Just look at it.” 

It didn’t take long for Lemon’s face to light up in recognition as he scanned past the Spanish words and into the corner of the paper to see the image of a train; several to be precise. 

“The only Caribbean country to have railways. Got you a ticket to the museum.” 

Lemon lit up. 

“Well thanks, mate but it’s late at night... I should probably get my jammies on.” 

“Just say Tangerine sent you.” 

“Why do you want me to go now?” 

Tangerine frowned. “I gotta have a word with Y/N.” 

“You can speak to her now, don’t let me stop you --” 

“Jesus Christ, don’t make me have to spell it out for you, Lemon. Her and I got somethin’ goin on, and I think we can --” 

“You wanna sleep with her. Got it.” 

“Lemon --” 

It was almost impossible for him to deny it anymore. Tangerine considered himself a gentleman, but there was something about you that made him think otherwise, particularly the way spots of blood had begun to dry up on your dress. You were tainted, yet not in the borderline sociopathic manner he was. In a sick way, you almost complimented each other. The bride and the groom. 

You hadn’t spoken much since the incident. Granted, it was only a few hours ago, and he figured you were still in a state of shock. He wanted to breach the conversation, but he wasn’t sure how; finding it wholly unfamiliar for him to be outwardly sensitive and considerate. It just wasn’t in his nature. 

“Where’s Lemon?” you spoke suddenly, breaking your aimless gaze from the television. 

“Him? Ah, he’s out.” The man waved off. 

“So late?” you frowned. “He’s probably lonely...He could get hurt!” 

“He’s an assassin, love,” Tangerine said matter of factly. “ ‘An trust me, there’s nothing Lemon loves more than his own company.” 

“Figures,” you shrugged. “You wanna have sex?” 

Tangerine scoffed confidently. “If I shagged you, sweetheart, it wouldn’t be a one-time thing.” 

“Never said it had to be.” 

Before you knew it, your body was on his in the heat of passion, fingers running through his brown locks as his moustache tickled your upper lip. His taste, was very much like the sea; salty, yet airy, almost the very definition of the outside.  even through it all, he was sweet, with the smell of his cologne tantalising your senses even through the stench of death. God, it was so fucked up. 

“You’re perfect, love,” the man cooed through your entanglement. “That bastard didn’t deserve ya.” 

“Easy,” you teased, skilfully sliding your hands down to his belt. “I haven't even taken my clothes off yet.” 

In a rare moment, Tangerine blushed, making up for his vulnerability with a quip. 

“Lippy, are we?” he grinned, blue eyes and white teeth sparkling. “You ain’t gonna have all that chat when I’m finished with ya...” 

He dragged his large hands up the sides of your body, caressing the wides of breasts, tracing down your hips and eventually giving your ass a firm grope as you played with his erection through his pants.  For a bunch of grown adults, you were behaving like a couple of teenagers, fooling around in the backseat of a car after prom. His grunts and breath quickened as you finally undid his zipper, breaching contact as you slid your fingers into his briefs, coaxing a sharp sigh from the action. 

He was hung; perfectly so, in the sense that he wasn’t too big or small, and you were more than certain that he knew how to use it. It didn’t take you long to slide your panties down your legs, the action a sinful image that was certain to be burned into Tangerine’s mind for a while. 

When he entered you, it felt like heaven. Better than the bellboy, and certainly better than anything Jude had given you. Tangerine let out a gruff grunt, his usually kept hair falling into his face as he allowed himself to adjust to the sensation. You were warm, certainly wet, and fit perfectly around him, leaving him wondering why he hadn’t found you before.  

“Oh, darlin’...” he hummed. “Forgive me, I usually got a lot more in the tank...But I don't think I can hold back with you.” 

Your walls clenched at the statement, gripping the man as he began to thrust his hips in and out of you, finding a rhythm almost immediately. Your head dangled off of the arm of the couch as you glanced across at him; a beautiful British man you’d met 48 hours ago rutting into you with such passion that you’d never experienced in your 8eight year marriage. Sure, it could’ve been the fact that he was only the third man you’d been with, but it felt different; sweet, but sultry, firm, yet intimate. He was fucking you like an animal, but he was almost certainly the man of your dreams, the kind of man the college version of you had dreamed about marrying someday. 

Ok, Tangerine wasn’t the marrying type, but you couldn’t say you weren't bound for life. It was practically by blood.  

“Shit...” he groaned, momentarily pulling back to withdraw his hips and dagger you from another angle, hitting that oh-so sweet spot. “I ain’t ever had nothin’ better than this. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” 

You bit your lip and wined, finding words, let alone sentences, hard to conjure. You were far too overstimulated; with the man’s hands finding their way to your breasts again and his lips by your ear as he whispered sweet nothings in that thick accent of his.  

Desperately, you gripped onto his broad clothed shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you basked in the motions. Jude was gone, dead, his body right at the bottom of the ocean, unlikely to ever be seen again (You’d learnt to never say never), and which technically made you a fugitive, but also a free woman. A free woman who’d met two handsome men, one you had a suspicion you’d be seeing often. Perhaps you’d become an assassin too; join them on the run across the world, or maybe you’d lay low for a while and drop off completely. Either way, you knew one thing for a fact – The Twins were going to have your back. 

In fact, they probably weren’t going to let you out of their sight. 

But, considering one of those were on top of you; a striking blue and filled with passion, you figured you just might stay a while.  

FIN. 

Taglist: @mylatest-hyperfixation @thewizardcat @j23r23 @ohgodthebogisback @starkeyboyismine @multifandomdiva 🤍

[padsmoony04]

I'm UNWELL

Aaron Taylor Jonhson for the new Giorgio Armani fragrance 2024

[sebsbarnes]

masterlist

works under each character are oldest to newest

last updated on 7/16/24

requests, ideas, n asks are always welcomed, here

tangerine; bullet train

co-workers ➛ angst, fluff

summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago." warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons word count: 3.4k+

confessions most popular! ➛ fluff

summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know. warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood word count: 1.1k+

the days you meet my fav! ➛ fluff, angsty plot twist

summary: tangerine was feeling the same way. he ran his tongue across his teeth thinking of the way your laugh sounded like a symphony. he shook his head a bit thinking it was wild to even say such things about, truly, a stranger. warnings: none! word count: 2.5k+

a ghost ➛ angst

summary: "are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out OR! ex lovers see each other for the first time warnings: none! word count: 700+

lover girl ➛ angst, comfort, fluff-ish

summary: tangerine saves you from an awful date, cliche realizing feelings afterwards warnings: mentions of killing, language, talks of insecurities word count: 2k+

jealousy

summary: he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle. warnings: mildly toxic dynamic, semi-suggestive (no descriptions) word count: 900+

apologizes ➛ angst, comfort

summary: you voice your concerns about tangerine's profession, to which he doesn't take kindly warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, nothing bad at all word count: 1.5k+

love and grief

summary: you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner. warnings: death, violence, injuries, language word count: 2.4k+

come here

summary: REQUEST! can you do a drabble where tangerine goes to the bathroom and sends the reader a text that says "come here." warnings: 18+!! word count: 500+

psychopomp ➛ angst

summary: it was that moment, underneath the streetlight, that tangerine knew he had no choice but to love you warnings: death, dying, anxiety word count: 1.6k+

a new year

summary: REQUEST! new year’s eve party with tangerine warnings: smoking word count: 800+

friend or foe

alternate continuation to 'the days you meet' summary: REQUEST! where lemon goes to the cafe a few weeks later and talks with reader, they notice lemon wearing tangerine's necklace. reader is also a contract killer and thinks that lemon killed tangerine. warnings: guns word count: 1.1k+

seduction

summary: REQUEST! reader is interacting with another guy in a mission and tangerine gets super jealous warnings: none i believe, making the other person jealous word count: 1.8k+

headrest ➛ fluff

summary: REQUEST! reader falls asleep on tangerine's shoulder on the train home after a mission warnings: none word count: 700+

13 weeks ➛ fluff

summary: it was a quiet night when the walls of your apartment learned that the two of you had fallen for the other warnings: none word count: 800

high school headcanon

summary: REQUEST! you and the twins are a trio and they are protective of you warnings: the slightest description of someone being a bully

new friends, new love ➛ fluff

summary: REQUEST! ladybug ditches you at a work event to chat to lemon while you occupy an unsociable tangerine warnings: mentions of injury word count: 1.3k+

bar fight

summary: REQUEST! tangerine intervenes when the creep at the bar puts his hands on you warnings: harassment, fighting word count: 1.6k+

sunlight ➛ tooth rotting fluff

summary: REQUEST! you take advantage of the empty beach after a mission much to tangerine's initial dismay OR! though the moon would watch over him, he knew the sun was far closer to him because you were in his arms. warnings: none word count: 1.1k+

tangerine intervenes a stalker headcanon

summary: REQUEST! you call tangerine after two men follow you from the station to different stores warnings: talks of stalking, nothing descriptive

scarlet flags

summary: you called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me warnings: suggestive- minimal descriptions, toxic situationship word count: 860+

inked

summary: tattoo artist!tangerine; you meet tangerine's friends for the first time warnings: language word count: 1.7k+

tangerine has a soft spot for reader

summary: REQUEST! tangerine has a soft spot and dynamic similar to him and lemon with reader warnings: none

too sweet

summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that. warnings: none word count: 1.2k+

letters to a loved one

summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered. warnings: angst word count: 1.4k

a house is not a home

summary: for months now you lived two separate lives. existing on two completely different orbits, the distance between you growing into lightyears warnings: angst, lovers to strangers word count: 930+

a melody

summary: so you stood hand in hand with tangerine, admiring your lover one final time. accepting that your love on earth will now be a memory for those who knew you. warnings: angst! word count: 350

pietro maximoff; marvel

hole in the wall

summary: despite barely knowing the brainwashed girl beyond the wall, pietro refused to hurt her, no matter how much she hurt him. warnings: fighting, none rlly?? word count: 5k+

phantom pain ➛ angst, comfort

summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been warnings: insecurities, none really?? word count: 2.9k+

vincent renzi; anatomy of a fall

reassured

summary: the presence of an old flame causes vincent to reassure you warnings: none! word count: 370+

enticed

summary: vincent can't help but struggle through work with you as the prosecutor warnings: none word count: 645

benny cross; the bikeriders

6 months

summary: so you stood there on the porch taking in the silent environment like you had every day for the last six months, trying to make sense of it. each night you sought solace in your sleep and would forget about the empty space in your heart that benny once occupied. warnings: angst word count: 1.9k+

[meiiie]

The rainbow YUPPP ATJ IS FOR THE GAYS!!!

[kristinee]

here's an edit i made for my tiktok :) currently obsessed with aaron taylor-johnson in kickass 🫶🏼