#my songs know what you did in the dark (light em up) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tightjeansjavi · 2 years ago

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?

Joel Miller x f!reader

NSFW🔞

A/N: this is a result of my post gym ✨horny✨ thoughts. I love to think that Joel can be a whimpering mess, every now and then. You’re welcome ♡ ♡ ♡

Summary: You get jealous seeing the women in Jackson throw themselves at Joel. You decide to give him a gentle reminder of who he belongs to.

~word count : 4.3k~

Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub! joel, feral/dark! joel, soft! joel,needy! joel, possessive joel! is going to tear you apart! joel, dom/brat reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) oral receiving (male) fingering, light choking, knife play, teasing, edging, light bdsm, consent, consent, consent, nicknames, praise kink, cockwarming, cream pie, cum eating, cum play, uhhh yeah a whole lot of filth! Not much else to say! (+18) MINORS DNI SERIOUSLY THIS IS STRAIGHT UP PORN.

Songs used:

“Freak” by Doja Cat (just trust me on this one y’all)

“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge

“…Ready For It?” By Taylor Swift

“No Good” by KALEO

“Dinner and Diatribes” by Hozier

You never considered yourself to be a naturally jealous person. You had no reason to be. The people of Jackson knew well enough that you were Joel’s lady, and he was your man. You never had to worry about getting hit on at the Jackson bar, or while on patrol, because no one dared to even look at what belonged to Joel. The women of Jackson? They were a little more ballsy than you thought.

You knew your man was handsome. Hell, he was fucking beautiful in your eyes. You’d see some of the single women, and even some of the happily taken women, fawn over your man.

Could you really blame them? He was definitely a sight for sore eyes. You’d watch them touch his arm, laugh at something he’d say and that’s when your jealousy began to bubble deep in your gut.

Didn’t these women know Joel belonged to you? Did he remember who he belonged to? Perhaps you needed to give him a gentle reminder.

Your man had arrived home late one night after being on patrol. You could hear his heavy boots from where you stood in the kitchen, you heard him mutter under his breath about his bad back as he hung his rifle up alongside yours. Joel was currently looking forward to a well deserved, hot shower and a good cuddle with you, his lady. He knew however that something was off because you never would leave the lights off. You kept them on usually on the nights you knew he would be getting home late.

He called out your name.

“Baby? You down here? Where are you, my sweet girl?”

He heard your soft footsteps padding from the kitchen and then your face appeared soon after. He wasted no time to grab you by the waist and pull you flush against his chest. “Hi honey, I was just waiting up for you.” You softly spoke while draping your arms around his neck. “How was it out there?”

“Mmm. Hi Sugar. Why were all the lights off? You usually keep ‘em on for me. S’alright out there. Long fuckin’ shift, and all I could think about was comin’ home to you darlin’.”

You gave him a sweet kiss, gently playing with the ends of his hair through your fingers. “Yeah, baby? I’m sorry it was a long shift. Are you tired? Here, how about you sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day.”

Joel kissed you back immediately while he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you in as close as he physically could. “S’alright. Feet and back are fuckin’ killin’ me though, sweet girl. Is Ellie home?”

You slowly pulled away from the kiss, sliding your arms down from around his neck and brought your hands down his chest. “C’mon i’ll take care of you, okay? She’s at Dina’s. They’re watching a movie so we’ll have the place to ourselves all night.”

“You had me at we’re gonna have the place to ourselves all night darlin.’” a chuckle vibrated up his chest. “Did ya have somethin’ particular in mind baby?”

You unwrapped his arms from around your waist, grabbing his hands as you brought him into the dining room. “I knew you’d love the sound of that Joel. Go on, take a seat honey.”

He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he tried to gauge just exactly what it was that you were up to. When he took too long for your liking, you placed your hand on his chest and firmly coaxed him down into the chair.

“What’re—”

He was cut off when you had climbed into his lap, straddling his hips while you brought his arms behind the chair, holding his wrists together firmly.

“Shhh. You trust me, right baby? I just wanna take care of you. Treat you real well but first, I think you need a gentle reminder of who you belong to.”

Joel’s eyes had immediately widened when you ever so casually climbed into his lap. His own frustration began to bubble when you brought his arms around the back of the chair, preventing him from touching you. “Course I trust you honey. Whad’ya mean you need to remind me who I belong to? Baby, I belong to you. You and I both know that.”

“Do the Jackson women know that you belong to me? I see the way they fawn over you Joel. You think I don’t notice? They practically fall to their knees when you’re around.”

Joel chuckled, leaning his head back against the chair with a smirk on his lips. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy in ya? I see the way they act around me sugar. I don’t pay ‘em any attention. Don’t need to when I’ve got you. By far the prettiest girl in town. Can confidently say I am one fuckin’ lucky man.”

Joel was too focused on you in his lap to notice that you had pulled a strand of thick rope from your pocket. He barely felt you tie his wrists together behind the chair, till it was too late.

“Yeah, you are one fuckin’ lucky man, Miller and you better remember it.”

He let out a strained noise from his throat when he realized you had successfully tied him to the chair and his eyes narrowed in on you. “Fuckin’ minx. You really just go and tie me to the damn chair?” He let out a low growl.

You were the one smirking now as you leaned in close to his face, your lips nearly touching his. “I did baby, I told you I’m going to take care of you. Just trust me on this okay?” You spoke in a sickly sweet tone.

Your words traveled down his neck, past his thighs and settled beneath his jeans where his cock had twitched slightly. It didn’t take much to get your man going and you were pretty proud of that.

“So you tied me to the damn chair? You gonna punish me, sweet girl? You got it in you to do that to me baby?”

You brought your fingers around his throat, tipping his chin back slightly as you brushed your lips over his, taking his lower lip between your teeth, biting down on the soft flesh as you tugged it out. Your actions elicited a low groan from his chest.

“Oh, I think you and I both know I’ve got it in me baby. You gonna be a good boy for me, or are you gonna be difficult?”

You quite literally stole the air from this man’s lungs. All the blood was draining straight down to his cock. God, you were so filthy and he loved every second of it. “I’ll be a good boy for you darlin’, only if you promise to give me your worst.”

His pupils darkened as he looked up at you, desperately wishing he could fucking touch you as he pulled against his restraints on his wrists.

“I promise you I will, baby.” You cooed and his eyes nearly rolled back into his skull.

You dragged your fingertips along the thin skin of his throat as you leaned down over him, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear, kissing the skin right below. It was the spot that you knew drove him crazy. “You let me know if it’s too much and you wanna stop. Okay honey?”

He felt a shiver run down his spine from your lips along his neck. “I know darlin’. I got you, you got me.”

Your relationship with Joel had been built around trust, and consent. It was important to you both, and no matter what the situation was between you, consent was always at the forefront.

“Good boy.” You whispered against the shell of his ear as you reached into your pocket and pulled out a blindfold.

His jaw went slack as you tied the fabric around his head, covering his eyes from your view.

“You’re about to fuckin’ ruin me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped out, feeling his senses on overdrive now that he could no longer see you.

“Gonna do a lot more than just that, honey. You just sit back and relax. I got you.” You pressed another kiss to the spot below his ear before you slowly dragged your lips down his neck, nipping and biting at the thin skin as he hissed under his breath, turning his head to the side slightly so you would have better access.

You dragged your sinful tongue down the expanse of his throat, you could feel his pulse quicken as your fingers began to expertly undo the buttons on his flannel, exposing his skin to the warm air as you let your fingertips trace down his collarbones, brushing over his nipples as they descended down over his navel.

His stomach went taut under your soft, feather light touches. He had sucked in a harsh breath as his cock twitched in his jeans once more. “Baby, please. Don’t fuckin’ keep me on edge like this honey. Please, I’ll be a good boy, just like I promised.” Your man begged you.

You popped the button off his jeans and tugged the zipper down. Offering him a brief moment of relief as you tugged his jeans down over his broad thighs, listening to the fabric fall down his ankles, and settle above his boots.

His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers lightly brushed over his growing bulge in his boxers. He was so big, so thick, the fabric was straining and could barely hold him.

What you did next? Completely through your man for a loop. You had unsecured your knife from your holster, dragging the edge of the blade down his chest, over his navel. The coolness of the metal against his hot skin was a delicious combination.

He tugged on the restraints hard, the chair scraping on the old hardwood floor when the edge of your knife dragged across his covered bulge. Your man fucking whimpered.

“Darlin’, is that your knife baby? What’re you gonna do with that, huh?”

You kept the edge of your knife lightly pressed against his bulge. You could feel his thighs quiver beneath you, and his cock twitch once more as you leaned in, and whispered against his ear, “Who do you belong to, Mr. Miller?”

He let out a string of curses past his plush lips, stuttering over his words as he was already a whimpering mess beneath you and you had barely touched him. “Yours baby. I’m all fuckin’ yours. All yours.”

“Good boy.” You hummed as you removed the blade from his covered bulge, placing it down on the table before you wasted no time to free him from his constraints. Watching his cock spring up against his stomach. The tip was leaking with precum, all thanks to you and your filthy words. Your mouth was already salivating for a taste of him.

He could no longer feel the weight of your body on his lap. He heard the chair scrape slightly as you got down on your knees in front of him. He wanted to fucking see your pretty face, your irresistible eyes on him, but the fabric on his eyes, blinded him from experiencing that pleasure.

“Gonna have a taste of you now, okay baby? Dying to have one.”

“Fu—fuckin’ hell darlin’ you tryin’ to send me to an early grave talkin’ like that—“

He lost his voice the moment your pretty lips wrapped around his aching tip. You swirled your tongue against the veiny head, collecting his precum with ease.

You dragged your lips and tongue down his thick length, feeling him twitch again as he let his whimpers flow through his lips freely.

“You taste so sweet, honey. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue baby?”

Joel growled frustratingly as he gave the restraints another good tug but they wouldn’t budge and he was completely at your mercy.

“That’s my fuckin’ line darlin’” he groaned.

“Yeah?” You hummed against his length, letting your fingers grasp his balls, giving them a little squeeze. “Well, now it’s mine. Deal with it.”

“You little—”

You had wrapped your lips back around his tip, slowly sliding your wet, hot mouth down over him, as you slowly began to bob your head at a delicious pace.

“F-f-fuck—darlin’ that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me. Not gonna fuckin’ last long like this.” He groaned while bucking his hips up slightly, desperately wanting more.

You brought your free hand, that wasn’t playing with his balls, around his thick thigh. You sank your nails into his skin, dragging them downwards as he let out a hiss, digging the heels of his boots into the floor.

You could feel every ridge, every vein against your tongue as you continued to suck him off, your teeth lightly scraped against his length as his tip hit the back of your throat. You knew how to take him well, but there were still tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. You fucking loved having his cock shoved down your throat like this. You loved the way he whimpered out your name, just from your mouth and tongue wrapped around him.

“Fuck—fuck baby you gotta stop soon, please! Fuck. I’m seein’ stars right now. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well in that pretty little mouth. S’pretty, just for me.”

Your throat tightened around him slightly as you held him there for a few moments, nearly gagging around him before you slowly lifted your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You had saliva dripping down your chin that he would have absolutely loved to see, along with your pretty swollen lips.

He heard your own jeans start to be taken off as he listened to the fabric hit the floor with a soft thud as he anticipated your next move on him.

“Where’d you go, darlin’? Can’t feel ya anymore..you better not be fuckin’ leaving me down here tied up like this—”

You had sank back down into his lap, your covered, aching cunt brushing against his swollen tip as you let out a low hiss from the friction. “Mmm. I’m right here baby. I wouldn’t be that cruel to leave you tied up like this..don’t give me any ideas though, okay? Not finished with you yet.”

He let a whine slip past his throat when he could feel your cunt rub against him, as you rolled your hips into his slowly, eliciting another frustrated groan from him, and an eager moan from you.

You reached your hand up, untying the fabric from his eyes and tossed it to the side, his eyes were immediately locked on yours, his jaw clenched so tightly, he could cut something with how sharp it was.

“You gonna fuckin’ let me touch you baby? Or not yet? Gonna keep me on the edge? Fuckin filthy little whore you are. M’so fuckin lucky.” He whimpered.

You brought your fingers through the back of his hair, gripping it tightly as you yanked his head back, rolling your hips into his once more. “Do you think you deserve to fuck me right now, baby? You think you deserve to fill me up with your cock? C’mon, answer me.” You demanded

Joel’s jaw went slack at your words as he swallowed hard. You were something fucking else entirely and he was at a loss for words.

“I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I baby? C’mon, sweet girl. Let me fill you to the fuckin’ brim. Please. Please. Please. Want to feel your warmth around me so fuckin’ bad. Give into me darlin.’ Take me however you fuckin’ want.” He rasped.

He watched as your hand slid down between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side, revealing your slick pussy to his greedy eyes as you dragged your fingers through your arousal. Swirling your fingers against your clit as you kept your eyes locked on his. “Bet you wish you were touching me right now, huh baby? I’m so fuckin’ wet for you. Don’t you wish you could have a taste? Mmm, your fingers do a much better job than mine.” You purred, wasting no time to slip two of your fingers inside, pumping them slowly on his lap. “I’m so fucking tight, Joel. Don’t you wanna feel me baby? Feel how fucking tight I am for you.”

Joel frankly had enough with your teasing. He nearly had drool dripping down his chin as he watched you with hooded eyes. He watched your fingers, slick with your own arousal, disappear inside your tight cunt. The squelching sounds of your wet pussy had his eyes rolling back as he kicked the side of the table with his boot, frustratingly.

“Goddamn you. Fuckin’ filthy. Look at you fuckin’ yourself on my lap. Fuckin’ should be my fingers filling you up right now. You little minx. Do I have to fuckin’ beg you? Your pretty little pussy is fuckin’ purring for me baby. You gotta let me out of these things, please baby. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please fuckin’ let me touch you.”

“No.” You spoke sweetly, between moans. “Keep fucking watching me Joel. Keep watching me fuck my pretty little pussy.”

“You are so goddamn lucky that you tied a fuckin’ good knot. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I get out of these baby. Just you fuckin’ wait.” He growled. He was unable to tear his gaze from your fingers fucking yourself, even if he tried. He was absolutely intoxicated with you.

You slipped your fingers out of your mouth slowly, they were dripping in your arousal as you brought them up to your lips, licking them clean right before his very eyes as he kicked the side of the table once more.

Your man was absolutely feral.

You grabbed the base of his cock then, dragging his tip against your slick folds, his arousal and yours mixing together. When you finally, sank down onto him, he let out the most delicious fucking sound you had ever heard. The mix between a groan, and a whimper as you sank down to the hilt, bringing your arms around his neck. “Filling me up so good already, baby. See what happens when you’re a good boy? You get rewarded.”

His breath hitched in his throat when you rolled your hips into his. He could feel every inch of you slide around his cock, and just as you started to get into a rhythm, rising and falling over his thick length as your walls gripped around him deliciously, the rope around his wrists snapped, falling to the floor.

His hands were on you before you even had the chance to open your mouth. You were positively fucked.

“Now, it’s my fuckin’ turn.” He had immediately grabbed ahold of your hips, roughly pulling your chest flushed against his as he fucked into you, his balls slapping against your ass while his nails dug into your hips harshly. “You fuckin’ like that baby? You naughty fuckin’ girl. Hope you enjoyed your fuckin’ little game while it lasted baby.”

His lips were attacking every inch of your skin, between your neck, collarbones and breasts, he was absolutely ruining you with his mouth. nipping, biting, sucking on your tender flesh as he fucked into you, drinking in your moans around him as you let him finally have control, not that you had much of a choice. You knew it was only a matter of time before the restraints would snap.

He had grabbed you from your ass, lifting you up onto the dining room table, while still buried deep inside of you. He brought your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you, with your back firmly planted against the table.

When you had reached down to touch yourself, he smacked your hand away, grabbing both of your wrists and slammed them down above your head, holding them down with one hand. “No.” He growled.“You don’t get to fuckin’ do all of that to me and then think that you can touch yourself, baby. You’re mine now. You fuckin’ got that? All. Fucking. Mine”

“Joel—fuck! Please baby, I was only having a little fun! Please, are you going to let me cum?” You whimpered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as you looked up at him with those eyes that would send any man’s knees buckling.

Joel let out a deep chuckle, using his free hand to close in around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he leaned down, bringing his forehead against yours, drinking in your moans as his lips crashed into yours, your teeth and tongues clashing together. It was a rough, heated kiss. One that was absolutely scrambling your brain. “You think you fuckin’ deserve to cum? You think you deserve that?” He mumbled into your lips, holding you completely captive beneath him.

Your breath was caught in your throat as his thumb squeezed along your windpipe slightly, just enough for you to feel it. The pain, mixing with the pleasure, you fucking loved it.

“Please, Joel! Please let me cum, baby! Don’t you want me to coat your cock? You gotta let me cum otherwise I can’t—”

He slammed his hips into yours, knocking your back against the table, stealing the air from your lungs. “What was that? Sorry, sugar. Can’t hear you above the sounds of my cock tearing your pretty little pussy apart.”

You let out a choked sob when his tip had hit the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your body was beginning to tremble beneath him and you nearly cried when you finally felt his thumb working your clit to the very edge.

He had released your wrists just so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and sink your nails into his skin, he knew how much you loved that.

“So fucking close, Joel! So close! Thank you baby, thank you!” You praised him.

Both of your bodies were slick with sweat as his thrusts began to grow uncoordinated and sloppy but despite this, he was still working his thumb over you, stumbling over his words as he groaned out your name.

“That’s it, my pretty fuckin’ filthy girl. Gonna cum around my cock? Gonna coat me? Wanna see you leaking out on the fuckin table when I’m through with you. Think you can handle that honey? Wanna see my fuckin’ cum drippin’ out of that pretty little pussy.”

It didn’t take long for either of you to hit your impending high. It crashed around you, sending white hot pleasure up from your core and through your whole body, Joel shuddered above you, as your pussy milked him of every last fucking drop. He kissed all over your face, praising you for being such a good girl as he gave one last deep thrust, before collapsing on top of you.

This is how it always ended. Joel buried deep inside of you while he grew soft, yours and his cum leaking out of you, while you would cradle him against your chest, running your fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

The post orgasm calm was your favorite part undeniably. You loved the lazy, sex stained grin your man would give you. God, he always looked so pretty after a proper fuck. He’d kiss you slow, deep, letting his tongue slip into your mouth while your fingers would gently scrape against his beard.

“I wanna see more of that in the future.” He mumbled into your lips, kissing you languidly.

“Yeah? You liked that?”

“Fuckin’ loved havin’ you take control like that baby. Do it whenever you want, kay?”

You let out a soft giggle, pulling away from the kiss to get some air as he let out a small whine, he wasn’t ready to stop kissing you just yet. So instead, he let his lips kiss all over your face, your cheeks, chin, nose, your eyelids. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“I will definitely be taking control more often, baby. I can promise you that.”

“Good.” He hummed, pressing one more kiss to your nose, lightly nibbling on it before he slowly slipped out from your warmth.

“We made quite the mess together honey. Dripping all down the fuckin’ table.” He chuckled, dragging his finger through your cum mixed with his, before he licked his finger clean, shooting you a wink.

You sat up slowly, your heart beat had returned to normal as you watched your man with a small grin as he collapsed back into the chair, kicking his boots off along with his jeans before he gathered the pile of clothes up into his arms to take them to the laundry room.

“I fuckin’ love you, you know that?”

“I know you do, Joel. I love you too.”

He leaned down over you, kissing you sweetly once more. He left to drop the clothes off in the laundry room before he grabbed a towel. He was always big on after care so you laid there, waiting for him.

He gently wiped between your thighs, and then the table before he was scooping you up into his arms. He helped you wrap your legs around his hips as he carried you upstairs, smiling to himself when he could feel your thighs tremble, all thanks to him.

One well deserved hot shower later, and you and your man were curled up in bed together. You were the big spoon tonight because you know how much he loves to be held by you.

You were his lady, his girl. He was your man. Your fellow, your guy.

4K notes · View notes

pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months ago

Text

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine falls in love with his pretty neighbor.

Genre: Fluff 🍰

Warnings: swearing, blood, def a cliché mess but in a good way (hopefully)

~ breaking my T.S title streak for this one! inspired by the song Too Sweet by Hozier ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

It truly was some cruel sick joke that the sweetest looking girl he had ever seen had moved into the house across from his.

Tangerine honestly couldn't remember the last time he let himself have anything truly good in his life, since he knows everything he touches burns right in front of him. Which meant he made the decision that he can't afford that with you—so he's stayed as far away from you as possible.

You, on the other hand, have never wanted to become friends with anyone so much as you did with your two, mostly quiet, neighbors in the house in front of yours.

You'd overheard some neighborly gossip that they weren't to be messed with—gangsters or something like that. You didn't really believe those rumors considering you'd seen one of them, the one with dark skin and platinum hair, feeding the birds that rest on their porch.��

What kind of dangerous gangster would care about birds?

So, that's why, one month into having moved in, you stand in front of their door with a plate of miniature strawberry shortcakes displayed neatly in a pink tray. It feels corny and stupid when no one answers the door for a moment. You raise your hand to knock again when eventually the door opens and you look up, making eye contact with eyes that are the prettiest shade of blue you've ever seen.

The man is dressed in a white button-up, half of it unbuttoned in his trousers and his brown hair is curled naturally, the ends sticking up messily as he looks you over. He tucks something behind him, clearing his throat awkwardly as his gaze falls to the tray in your hands. "Pastries," he says, his voice velvety and his British accent thick.

You hold the tray out closer to him. "Shortcakes. I made them myself," you say with a smile and the man just looks annoyed—his lips twitching as he looks you over again, taking in your apron and the cream that's smeared on your cheeks.

"It's late," he points out calmly, "much too late for afternoon tea."

He's right. It is. It's almost seven—you'd just taken more time with the cakes than you'd wanted. You feel embarrassed now and lower the tray.

"Oh," you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd had a whole introduction plan and now you're flustered. "You could use them as a late-night snack—" you pause, trying to explain, "Most nights, I see that your lights are on when I wake up at around three or four am for water and–well if you already can't sleep, a sweet treat wouldn't do you any harm?"

You feel like the creepiest stalker as the man's eyes widen.

"Sorry, this was a stupid," you say and turn around, preparing to walk away when the man's voice interrupts your thoughts.

"I'm allergic to strawberries," he says, "but my brother isn't. He'd love them. Here, I'll take 'em." He takes the tray from you as you turn back around and he looks down at the cakes he's now holding. Tangerine can tell you clearly spent time on them and he has to fight himself not to smile.

"Thank you—"

"Y/n," you say your name much too quickly, itching for connection to this mystery man.

"Thank you, Y/n."

You don't even hesitate when you ask, "And you are?"

Tangerine hesitates. He can't tell you his real name. Speaking to you like this, out in the open, is already risky. He sniffs nonchalantly and uses an excuse, one he hopes you won't question too much. "My friends call me Tangerine."

You laugh and the sound is so beautiful it's unfair. "Tangerine? What? Is that some shitty drunken inside joke with your mates at Uni?" you guess, pushing down the curiosity to jokingly ask if you using his nickname makes you his friend. It's too soon for questions like that.

He shrugs. "Mm, something like that," he says and he doesn't elaborate further. You wonder if you'll be worthy of his real name one of these days, but for now, this feels like some progress. You smile at him, rocking on your heels for a moment and then you look back across the street at your house.

"Well, Tangerine, it was lovely meeting you but I should—" you point behind you with a smile. "I'll see you around and hopefully I can meet your brother! Enjoy the shortcakes!" you wave and skip down the steps as Tangerine watches you, his stomach filled with unfamiliar, normally dormant, butterflies.

He chuckles, biting his cheek, and then walks back inside. He untucks his gun from his trousers and slides it into the designated drawer of the entrance table, shaking his head with a small smile as he remembers your wide grin. He returns to the living room and puts the tray next to Lemon's puzzle.

"Someone important?" Lemon asks and then he looks up and sees the cakes. His smile widens and he doesn't hesitate to take one. "Ooo, pastries," he exclaims and practically stuffs one in his mouth, humming with joy.

"Nah, just our neighbor," Tangerine says and runs a hand in his hair, leaning against the table and mindlessly playing with one of the puzzle pieces as he remembers how pretty you looked.

Lemon cocks an eyebrow and speaks with his mouth full. "Which one?"

Tangerine shrugs. "Does it matter?"

Lemon rolls his eyes. "Yer bein' weird as fuck. It was that cute bird from across the street, wasn't it? The one ya keep starin' at when you can see 'er from 'er window—like some creep—"

"Oh, piss off," Tangerine grunts, lowering his head to hide how pink his cheeks have turned.

Lemon hums, continuing to eat the pastries you'd made them, and grins. He knows how his brother is; always too damn proud to admit he has any feelings other than nonchalance and disdain. But he's seen how Tangerine is smitten with you without even an interaction and he can't wait to see where this goes.

"Want one?" Lemon asks as he motions toward the tray.

"No. I'm allergic to strawberries."

Lemon laughs. "Ya aren't allergic to strawberries, you numpty."

Tangerine stands straighter, eyeing the tray of what looks like really delicious shortcakes for a moment until his jaw clenches and he turns around, his thumbs hooking in his pockets. "I am now," he says bluntly.

* * *

Lemon has gone inside first as Tangerine hangs behind, making sure the garage is fully secured. He's exhausted and there are dark bags under his eyes. Usually, he'll take the inside entrance into the house, but this morning he needs some fresh air after that mission. He walks outside and looks up at the dusty pink sky. It's 4:30 am in the morning—no sane person would be up.

"Mr. Tangerine!"

He startles at his name, holding his hands behind him—knowing they're still covered in blood. He looks up and his eyes widen when he sees you.

You're walking across the street to meet him, tightening your ponytail as your grin widens. You don't look sleepy at all. "Good morning," you say and look him over, "Weird running attire," you joke, mentioning the navy blue suit he's wearing.

"Running?" he echoes.

You drop your arms to your sides, looking him over with a small, amused, frown. "Oh– I just assumed—most people, including myself, are only up at this hour for a morning run. What are you doing?"

You ask the question so innocently that Tangerine doesn't know how to answer.

He can't exactly tell you what he's been doing. How the truth is he's been out all night killing for money. He pushes the image of your disappointed and scared look from his mind and lies. "Oh, I like seeing the sunrise," he says, sounding nonchalant, pushing his hands in his pockets quickly so you don't see the dried, crimson, mess.

Hopefully, you'll leave him alone soon.

Unluckily for him, you don't leave him alone. "Oh! I love watching the sunrise!" you say, smiling as you point behind you, adjusting your sneakers. "We should go see it someday," you offer kindly, your tone a more sincere nonchalance than he was, "no pressure or anything."

Tangerine is speechless. He blinks at you, his sharp blue eyes scanning you up and down. You must be kidding. No sensible soul would invite a stranger to do something seemingly so intimate. You shouldn't be inviting him like this, you don't know him. He's dangerous.

"You don't know me, why would you want to do that?" he asks bluntly.

You shrug, still looking as nonchalant as ever. "Can't know you if you shut me out," you say, smiling, as you return his bluntness. When he doesn't answer, you just send him a small wave, saying your goodbyes as you begin your run.

Tangerine is tempted to run with you now. To protect you. He shakes that thought.

Lemon interrogates him the moment he comes back inside. "Flirtin' with her now, Tan?"

"You're gettin' on my fuckin' tits," Tangerine grunts, your offer still swarming his mind. Lemon laughs.

Tangerine doesn't have much peace until he eventually, after you deliver more and more pastries as an excuse to talk to him, accepts.

He doesn't sleep a wink that night. He's a nervous wreck as he plays every scenario in his mind and spends hours in the kitchen just to see your smile when he walks out of his house with a covered basket as the morning sun prepares to peak from the clouds.

Your eyes widen and you rush over, your pretty sundress hugging you in ways that make him lose his mind even more.

"You made something?" you ask, grasping at his arm. Tangerine hums, guiding you to his car.

"I know a spot," he whispers, hiding his smile. The drive is silent but comfortable and when he drives you to a park, he walks with you up the hill. You watch with amusement as he fusses over the picnic cloth and then opens his basket and pulls out a bowl of strawberries drizzled with frozen chocolate and a small bowl of whipped cream. You both sit down and you look at him, slightly confused.

"As a thank you for the shortcakes."

"I thought you were allergic to strawberries."

You both say in unison and you laugh. Tangerine's cheeks turn pink and he runs a hand in his hair, answering you, "I- I lied. I just, I was nervous," he says as he picks up a strawberry and outstretches his hand. You smile and look at the cream.

"You whipped this yourself?"

He nods. "The store-bought cream is always disgustingly sweet," he shakes his head and dips the strawberry in the cream before he turns to you again, your knees almost touching as you lean in. You refuse to take the fruit and instead, you part your lips and stare at him, your heart hammering.

You wonder if this is too forward, but Tangerine brings the strawberry to your lips. It takes bittersweet, like how you assume he would taste, the dark chocolate mixes with the whipped cream, and some falls from your lips. He doesn't say anything as he catches the drip with his thumb, looking at you intensely as his heart beats loudly in his ears.

"Were my shortcakes too sweet for you?" you ask in a murmur, his hand not leaving your face.

Tangerine knows he shouldn't. He knows he'll hate himself after but nothing sounds more appealing than kissing you now—so he does.

He can taste the chocolate on your lips as his hands cup lightly around your throat, his touch light. Just enough of a warning as to who he truly is. You gasp, not minding at all, as you kiss him back.

As complicated as you know it will be, this feels so right.

Tangerine's hand finds your waist and, bunching up your dress a little in the process, he pulls you in closer. He takes a breath, looking down at you as he ignores the screaming in his head. "No," he whispers, knowing damn well he'd held himself back from tasting them, "No, they weren't too sweet for me."

It doesn't matter because, in the end, he isn't talking about the shortcakes.

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv

347 notes · View notes