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tange-my-rine · 6 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where you were in love with him.

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

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

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

He nodded his head.

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

"So?"

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

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

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

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

"Might give me," you corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.

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

'Now?' you mouthed back.

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

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

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

Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.

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

'Fine.'

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

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

He neatly nodded in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ya alright, love?"

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

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

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

Something in you snapped.

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

Tangerine froze.

You weren't even sure he was breathing.

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

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

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

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

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

After a few minutes, that did not happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a bitter taste in your mouth.

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

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

No more crying, you thought.

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

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

And then, you left.

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

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

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

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

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

And you did.

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

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

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

'Tan 🍊'.

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

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

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

"What the hell do you want, Tan?"

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

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

"Love-"

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

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

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

'I want you here,' went unsaid.

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

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

"I never meant to-"

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

Before he could say another word, you hung up.

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

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

Couldn't he understand that?

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

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

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

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

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

But when you heard the door, you froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was that why he was here? For refuge?

"I-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.

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

"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.

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

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

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

"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"

"Tangerine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How is it not fair?"

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

He stood in silence waiting, patient.

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

"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"

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

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

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

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

"You didn't do anythin' wrong."

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

"That's not..."

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

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

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

"Y/N-"

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

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

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

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

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

"Can't," he reiterated.

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

"Y/N-"

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

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

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

"It's not..."

"Tangerine, please."

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

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

"Tangerine-"

"'S not how I feel."

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

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

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

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

"That's not funny, Tangerine."

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

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

"I am," he reiterated.

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

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

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

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

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

"No-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tangerine, this isn't-"

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

"It wasn't greedy," you defended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You opened your mouth to say something, anything.

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

"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.

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

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

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

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

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

"Are we okay, love?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking of oxygen, you parted.

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

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

"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."

"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.

And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"Tan?"

"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"

Tangerine opened his mouth.

"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.

"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."

You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"

"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."

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

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achilles-rage · 3 months

Text

Proud Boyfriend

summary: even though you told deacon not to tell anyone, street finds out that you wrote and published a book, meaning the rest of the team quickly finds out as well. when you come to visit deacon at work, you find out that they know, allowing deacon (and the rest of the team) to praise you for all your hard work.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: this was requested by @twilightlover2007, this was so fun to write, i really hope i did the idea justice! enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

After finishing their takedown, Street and Deacon stand at their lockers, packing up their bags to go home. As Street says a quick goodbye to Deacon, he looks down at Deacon’s bag, noticing a book peeking out of it. He smirks, making a quick grab for it, looking over it.

“What’s this, Deac? Didn’t know you were a reader,” he teases as Deacon turns around with wide eyes, noticing what he was holding.

“Nothing. It’s just a book.” Deacon replies, trying to take it back as Street flips the book back over to look at the cover. He raises a brow, looking up at Deacon, a small smile forming on his face.

“Wait, did your girl write this?” Street says in disbelief, as Deacon sighs, shaking his head, a small smile making its way onto his face.

“Yeah, she’s been working on it for a while. Finally got it published. But she didn’t want me to say anything. Said something about it being awkward if anyone hated it, which is ridiculous,” he states. “I read it. It’s amazing,” he adds, nodding his head, his smile growing wider.

Street laughs at your reasoning, shaking his head as he flips the book open, glancing over a few of the pages, Deacon watching proudly as he crosses his arms across his chest, standing taller.

“Look, don’t let her know I told you. And don’t tell anyone else, okay?” Deacon whispers as he hears Hondo, Chris, and Tan’s voices getting closer to the locker room.

“Don’t tell anyone what?” Tan teases, smirking as they walk in, walking up to the two as Deacon grabs the book back, trying to put it in his bag.

Hondo raises his hands in mock surrender, noticing Deacon’s movements as Chris and Tan look over at Street, raising a brow.

Street shrugs, smiling at both of them, shutting his locker. Chris moves into his path to the door, crossing her arms, giving him a look. Street sighs, looking back at Deacon quickly before turning back to Chris.

“Deacon’s girl wrote a book.” he mutters, defeated. Chris scoffs, turning to Deacon, laughing softly.

“Why didn’t you wanna tell us? That’s great!” she says, Tan and Hondo nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, man. I’d be telling everyone I know. I’m kinda surprised you’re not,” Tan tells Deacon, patting him on the back.

“Believe me, if she’d let me, I would tell everyone. She made me promise not to. I’ve seen how hard she worked on it, and you should’ve seen how happy she was when she finished it. I even bought 10 copies when it was published, but I didn’t tell her. I wanna support her, but she’s being really lowkey about it, around people she knows, at least.” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling softly, finally able to talk about it with someone that will listen to his praise.

“That’s awesome. If I wrote a book, I’d make everyone I know buy a copy.” Tan jokes, opening his locker to grab his bag.

“Who’s writing a book? If it’s an autobiography you better make me look good,” Luca jokes, walking into the room, patting Tan on the back as he walks by.

“Deac’s girl wrote a book,” Street says, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns to Luca.

“What? No way! That’s great, man,” he tells Deacon, wrapping his arms around him for a short hug.

“Yeah, I’m proud of her. She’s always wanted to be a writer. Honestly, I was gonna tell her it was good no matter what, but it’s really well done. I hope she changes her mind so you guys can read it.” Deacon replies, face growing hot, thinking of you.

“Oh, and before we go, I have to show you what we found on our other target. We were able to find his ex-girlfriends address, it looks like that was his old stash house. There’s some stuff we found that forensics wants us to see,” Hondo explains, the team nodding, grabbing their bags before following him to the lab.

As they walk out to the main area of the building, Deacon turns, seeing you walking towards him, a tupperware container in your hand.

“Hey, you said you might have to work late tonight, so I brought you some dinner just in case,” you explain, leaning into his embrace as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead quickly before you back up.

You’re met with a chorus of hellos from the squad. You smile, waving at them all, saying a quick hi back.

“Hey, I heard about your book, congrats! When do we get to read it?” Luca says, taking a few steps towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug. Your eyes widen as he says this, hugging him back stiffly, giving Deacon a glare over Luca’s shoulder.

Deacon smiles nervously at you, before looking down, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, Street saw it in my bag, so he had to tell everyone.” he explains, looking back up at you sheepishly, before glaring at Luca as he lets you go.

“Was I not supposed to say anything? I thought you were excited?” Luca says, a confused expression making its way onto his face, his smile slowly disappearing as he looks between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you missed that part of the conversation,” Deacon says to Luca. “I’m sorry, I’m just proud of you, I wish you’d let me tell people,” Deacon says, turning to you. Your eyes soften as you smile softly, your face getting hot.

“He’s right. You should’ve seen his face; he just wants to praise his girl.” Hondo jokes, putting an arm around you, giving you a tight side hug. “If it makes you feel better, we’re proud of you too. We’d love to read it. Someday,” he says, giving you a wink as the rest of the team hums in agreement.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll let you read it. But don’t expect me to give you a free copy,” you tease, biting the inside of your lip as you fight back a smile.

The team laughs, Street rolling his eyes, teasing you. “Of course. Wouldn’t expect a friends or family discount or anything,” he says, Chris punching his arm, shaking her head, smiling.

You laugh, looking down, feeling your chest swell with pride and excitement. You didn’t know they would want to read your book that bad. You look at Deacon as he smiles at you proudly, arms crossed across his chest, standing tall. He nods his head, a hopeful expression on his face.

“We’re not done with this though. We’re talking about why you had a copy of my book here when you know how Street is,” you tease, pointing a finger at Deacon’s chest as Street scoffs, feigning offense.

Deacon laughs, pulling you into his chest again, hugging you tightly. You put your head on his chest, letting out a long exhale, your smile growing.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” He whispers in your ear, loud enough for Hondo to hear from beside you.

“We all are. You’ve got yourself a talented woman there, Deac.” he says, looking at Deacon, a smirk on his face.

“I know,” he says, kissing the top of your head, “I know.” he says quieter, loosening his grip on you, looking down at you with his eyes full of admiration.

“Hondo just has to show us something in forensics and then I’ll be ready to go. Do you wanna wait and we can go out and properly celebrate your book?” Deacon asks you. You nod, smiling softly.

“Fine,” you say, faking annoyance, leaning up to kiss him softly. “I’m gonna go say hi to Cortez quickly. Come get me when you’re done.” You tell Deacon, turning to walk to her office as Deacon watches you walk away.

“You did good, Deac.” Tan says, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as they begin walking to the lab.

“Yeah. She doesn’t happen to have a sister or anything, does she?” Street teases, which earns him a shoulder check from Deacon as the rest of the team laughs.

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cloveroctobers · 5 months

Text

HOLD UP — Roman Reigns x black! Reader

A/N: not me attempting to write for this man and I’m supposed to be on a writing break?? I had a storyline in my head, heard this song from my girl (finally), and I’m about to go on a SWAT binge-watch once this season is over so that’s my excuse for all of this. Hope you have your popcorn ready!

WARNINGS: language, famous reader, slight cross-over with another show hence the tags, hint of toxicity, infidelity, crime, + me not knowing much about wrestling or S.W.A.T. but winging it! It’s only fiction!!! 😉

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊

“You know what? Fuck her and fuck you too!” You yelled, smacking the food that was already prepared right towards where Roman stood.

It didn’t have to be like this.

What could have been a great normal Saturday evening, turned for the worse all because a man, who was supposed to be your man turned around and played you. How? By sleeping with the “friend,” (turned assistant) he told you not to worry about. You were just getting into a pretty solid choreo to Beyonce’s, “Tyrant,” over a steaming pot with the headphones blasting into your ears when your phone started going off more than your version of usual.

It was to the point you were ready to put it on Do Not Disturb but your gut told you to get into it. Sure it could have been anybody: your family, your manager, publicist, or even some friends…in this case? It happened to be the whole damn universe.

The headlines is what really got you:

“Entrepreneur Tribal Chief Roman Reigns Sex-Tape Leaked!”

Along with the shady subtitles underneath: The multi-business owner’s intimate moments at what seems to be one of his places of business the casino half hotel: “The Medallion,” have been leaked! By the looks of it, it doesn’t appear that the woman in the video shares any resemblance to girlfriend and actress…but does look a whole lot like his personal assistant Celosia “Losi,” Darlington. Perhaps they aren’t as secure in their relationship as actress…claims! See below for the steamy video.

At first you didn’t want to believe it, firmly wanting for your girl delulu to kick in but unfortunately you knew this time you could believe the headlines. The declined calls you had to keep hitting as you took a breath to just play the video. You had to see with your own eyes what had been done, it’s always about actions more than word of mouth and Roman showed you exactly who he was.

A no good piece of shit.

You met him back in ‘13 after taking on an action role, which would be filmed at the newly built casino: The Medallion. That same place of business that always got him into some shit—yet he always knew how to polish everything up so nicely regardless of any heat that went his way. Of course there was some attraction that formed over the six months of filming although he didn’t have a major role on screen versus behind it, his presence was surely felt. It took two years after that at the premiere of another film of yours for any relationship besides professional to form and sometimes you wished you would have stayed away.

This was one of those times.

To be in a relationship since mid 2015–minus the minor breakups just for it all to truly crumble now was the biggest punch in the face. And you may not be one of his Bloodline fighters but you were sure about to hand him one.

When he enters the house, not long after you’ve been going into a deep dive of everything from watching the video to various gossip websites and landing on Twitter of all places, you place the phone down face up as you rest your hands on the island counter. He pecks your cheek multiple times as he holds your hip, not picking up on the tension just yet before he takes a place on the other side of the island. Your jaw was set as you used the sleeve to wipe his kisses from your skin, eyes burning flames at the clueless man across from you.

“Smells good as hell in here. How was your day?” Is the first thing he says, finally looking up from his phone.

And you can’t help but to scoff at this, “it was going well baby, until I found out that you and your dick went swimming at The Medallion.”

Which lead to a heated stare from Roman, “…What’re you talking about?”

“Stop being stupid, Joe! Unless you can’t help it. Everybody knows including me! Y’all played in my face for who knows how long and you thought coming in here all regular was gonna be cool?” The pointer and thumb finger were jabbed right in his direction as you spoke before you were gripping the island so tight, it should have snapped but only quality was allowed in this house.

Roman kept his face straight as he clips, “I think you should start with watching your tone and talk to me with some sense.”

“Why? When you don’t have any?” Your head was tilted to the side, just begging for him not to continue to get smart with you because things will start to fly in a minute if he kept it up.

His big ass included.

Roman clenched his eyes shut in frustration before replying, “i honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, so please feel free to enlighten me.”

Humorless laughter bubbled past your lips as you decided to play this game just for a bit, “honestly, when’s the last time you saw Losi?”

His shoulders lifts, “a day or two ago. She’s taking personal time off, why?”

“Sure she is! Right on time for everything to unfold like the messy bitch that I told you she is.” You exclaim with your hands up in the air, “was this y’all plan all along? To humiliate me?”

As the silence filled the kitchen, it was shortly interrupted by the vibrating of your phone which rattled on the counter and finally the pinging from Roman’s own phone. A quick glance Roman sends to the device, it was a simple text from Losi herself which read: “I’m so sorry ro!”

He’s truthfully had a blind eye to what has been happening. Roman’s been back and forth between the casino and the ring along with a few meetings in between that he barely looked at his phone until he walked through his home’s front doors. There’s a furrow of his brows then at Losi’s text but it doesn’t take him long to figure it out when he thinks back to the accusations that you previously just thrown in his face combined with your attitude.

Your head was still tilted as you cooed with petty intent, “Uh oh…doesn’t look like there’s a smile on your face now when reading anything Losi says.”

Roman runs his hands down his face in exhaustion and guilt. When he opens his eyes, yours are still glaring at him. This conversation was going to be bad tonight whether he wanted to have it or not. He made this bed so now he had to lay in it.

“Babe—

“Na uh! Don’t start that shit now because you’ve been caught.” You held your hand up in the air, “Weren’t you the one who told me that you didn’t want to fuck her? Then you went and did it! When?!”

Roman runs his tongue over his bottom lip and bites down on it, “I don’t even—a few weeks ago? It didn’t mean shit though and I want you to know that. I don’t and won’t ever love her the way that I love you. I fucked up and i can admit that.”

If this was love then this man can keep that shit forever. Never did you ever think at this point in your relationship that the downfall would be Roman’s attention turning to another woman for a night.

“You can? Were you ever going to if this didn’t come out? You’ve been sitting on this for weeks and she’s been smiling in my face and more chatty—ohhh.” You knocked your finger into the air in realization, “she’s been plotting on this moment.”

Roman blinks with a shake of his head, “what? No.”

“You let the balloon stuffed booty fool you, baby.” You clapped, “along with the cute shy office siren thing she had going on the outside. I been knew she was feeling you and I couldn’t be mad at that! I knew what I had. As long as she didn’t try anything but it only took a year for you to fold right when everything was falling into place.”

He had another personal assistant who’s been working for him since The medallion began to stay consistent in flourishing, Ms. Charlene, who was older in her mid-fifties and actually good friends with your aunt. She was probably the best one Roman was ever going to get but she decided to retire early? And moved all the way out to Liberia but still did her original role as a tax preparer on the side but you didn’t hear that from me—your narrator.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, joe. The gym just had its successful grand opening after its bombing a month ago, you just announced that you were expanding the medallion to be worldwide with plans of doing the same for Bloodline. I’m hosting the Tony awards, you’re planning to propose, and Losi is trying to start her own business by creating some plant spa, which gives her just enough motive to leak the tape so she’s financially taken care of while we’re here looking dumb as fuck.” You deeply exhale while Roman pressed his tongue into his cheek in thought.

He didn’t want to believe that either but one thing about you? Your mind was always going and connecting the dots. He knew that there was something about Losi that you didn’t rock with and he didn’t see. When it came to his businesses he wanted to be the only one running things and sure he never wanted to make you uncomfortable yet he and Losi went way back and her resume was top notch. Overall Roman believed that the two of you could just coexist at some point, although Losi put in more effort to be friendly with you, you weren’t feeling it.

Ultimately you had to agree to disagree on the subject. It wasn’t a big problem until it unfortunately became one of course. He didn’t have the ring and it’s been in the works since last year but he knew what he wanted it to look like based on your preferences and kept the sketch secured and out of sight…so he thought.

He knew he wanted forever with you but he allowed himself to get stupefied by someone he thought was a friend and should have stayed in that place.

“Nah Lo’s not like that, she’s a good girl.”

Roman didn’t know if he believed that himself anymore but it still came out of his mouth.

You felt your eye twitch, “you keep telling yourself that and that’s probably what you praised her with when you were hitting it from behind too right?”

“Relax,” his stare is hard from underneath his eyelashes, as if he’s attempting to command you in doing so, “I didn’t know she was filming us, Alright?”

That much you could tell.

“Yeah okay, so that makes it better?!”

“No it doesn’t! And I’m aware of that. I want to marry you which you somehow know—

“Then why do this to me? To us?! We were doing so well and came so far just for you to ruin it all like this was for nothing.” You tried to focus on your breathing but from Roman’s stance he could see that it was more of a panting from you, to keep from crying.

The last thing you wanted was for him to comfort you but he did find himself reaching his hand out some over the island, just in case. He hated that this was happening, that he was causing you pain and not the fact that this was biting him in the ass, he knew what he had done and had to pay the price, he could take that but he didn’t like the twist in his chest at the sight of your anger, your pain, yet he didn’t really have a reason to justify this. There was no justifying the infidelity or the past gaslighting of your concerns you expressed once Losi came along. You had dreams and took that as a sign just as much of what you witnessed in person. Roman would always reassure that it was just your mind lying to you and being paranoid until he proved everything to be true.

“It’s not for nothing…we’ve been through so much shit together that we can get through this too.” Roman states with determination in his eyes, “I don’t know what exactly you want to hear from me but I’m telling you that choice I made that night meant nothing. It happened once, I was on one that night, should have known better than to let my guard down and I told her we won’t ever do that shit again because I’m in love with you. I need you.”

It was your turn to bite down on your lips and nod your head, “that sounds nice, really but there’s no way you expect me to just leap back into your arms just because you’re looking at me that and all the sweet nothings you hand over will magically make this okay when it most likely won’t be.”

He swallows, “What are you saying?”

“Look around! You can’t have that much trust in her to believe this wasn’t calculated can you? I mean you trusted her enough to not let your hot steamy night get out but look where that got you. A tape! You had that girl in my face, in this house, trying to get us to be besties long before and this is what y’all go and do? The disrespect is so real so…you know what? Fuck her and fuck you too!”

Roman dips in his head in understanding, even if he has to make a jump back from the plates of sides that are sent his way but that doesn’t mean he has to take it. “I get that you’re in your feelings but I’m telling you right now, I’m not gonna take any more of you talking crazy to me tonight. It’s been a long day.”

“Excuse me?!” Your brows are raised, “I’ll call you every name until the sun comes back if it makes me feel better—

“But that’s the thing, it won’t so why waste your breath?” His chin is raised in such arrogance.

It’s your turn to be wide eyed now. Did Roman expect you to just not react like he was good at doing? You studied him then, noticing how stoic he was but his eyes said different before he tightened his stare. He was letting his ego come out to play and that was a dangerous game.

“Hmm let’s see what will? Should I dump this gumbo right in your face? Mess your precious house up? Or get in touch with Jey to see if he has any insight to how quickly the success of Bloodline got back up and running. He’s been quiet since the grand opening and that’s not like our boy.” The smirk on your face was enough to get Roman to charge over to you and get in your face.

Jey was family, always would be no matter how ugly the business got. First it was his twin, Jimmy who Roman kicked out and you knew Jey was feeling not only a way about that but also Roman’s big headed authority. It was only a matter of time before Jey stepped down and you knew it was coming based on conversations you had. Roman also had a feeling that you knew more than what you were saying and withholding information was a huge negative, although you weren’t part of the business you would be if you took that title of being Roman’s wife.

You stared up at Roman sweetly while he pressed his forehead harshly into yours, “you don’t scare me and you don’t want to ever cross me, love of my life or not.”

Running your hands up Roman’s clenched torso and up over his biceps to grip his shoulders tightly you say, “well…this old love of your life, is about to show you just how much you’re gonna lose and I know how much you hate to lose.”

He squeezes your neck pulling you so that you’re nose to nose, “if that’s how you want to play, then you better not miss.”

“Great talk, baby. Now let go.” Her nails dig into his shoulder blades while it’s Roman’s turn to tighten his jaw.

Eventually he lets go, running a palm over his mouth as you get back to breathing although your insides want to ache but you numb it down. You crack your knuckles before reaching forward to wipe the crumbs off the counter into the sink and turn to leave but not without glancing at the contents on the floor.

“Hey, I think I would have loved being your wife but the world is always turning right? Better luck next time I guess.” You shrug your shoulders, “and you might want to clean that up before you get some ants that look like Losi. See you soon, Joe.” You explain with a cold wink that reminds the man to breathe after you leave the home for good.

Roman didn’t know what he was going to do just yet or what you had in mind but for right now, he had to sit on his loneliness over a meal that you prepared which he didn’t get to share with you at the end of the table this time around.

[2 weeks later…]

The saying April showers brings May flowers could apply here, depending on how you looked at it. It was difficult being back in your own space, once sharing it with the Cane Corso, “Atonga,” that Roman gifted to you last year for your birthday and what you sent back days after you left his house. You were ready to send everything back (or donate) but Roman wasnt having that, anything that got sent back to his place or his businesses he redirected most to your parents with the power for it not to be sent anywhere else.

As for Atonga, he was waiting for you on your doorstep one morning with a simple message attached: he’s closer to his mom.

The gift of Atonga was for protection and you built a strong bond with the dog, overall you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the boy so you didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to him. As for the outside noise? The paparazzi followed your every move even more so now, you didn’t keep your head down but you kept it on mute with every outing. You didn’t need the advice of your publicist on what to do because regardless you had your own media training due to previous work and would ultimately do what you felt.

You didn’t have to offer the world a damn thing.

Your relationship with Roman was one of the most trendiest relationships to talk about and it was killing them not to know much more of what was going on. However Roman gave some crumbs on the recent interview he was on and spoke some with the paps that followed him around but it was enough for people to speculate you have broken up again.

A relationship that had so many sides to it was stuck on being face up at this time.

Over these two weeks you weren’t cooped up in the house crying over this mess, you got to deep cleaning, self-care appointments: nails done, hair done, everything did, spent time in the gym mostly with a personal trainer that Roman never cared for but he mercilessly stopped responding to your meeting requests after the second day, which left you to train with the twins and Naomi instead, and being in the club with the widest of smiles.

After all that you were slowly getting back into work. Thankfully your manager agreed to put a pause on the work load until you were ready, where you got the outline on paper on how award shows were meant to run, then you would make the trip in a few weeks to see how the stage was in person.

“YO,” Jey calls out your name from downstairs, his voice echoing all throughout the house that you forgot he was even still here. Probably eating up all your food while watching ghetto ass Tubi or BMF—they were the same thing honestly.

Getting so wrapped up in the outline, you push yourself off your bed and head out into the hall and call back, “what I tell you about using your outside voice in my house, jey?!”

The barking that sounded as you got to the steps made you frown, actually making you put more speed in your steps as you went down them. When you peered up on the second to the last step, you spotted a familiar face standing at the front entrance of your home while Jey stood off to the side holding Atonga back.

There stood Miguel Alfaro, a ex-boyfriend of yours who sported his dark SWAT attire.

“You got company,” Jey muttered as he eyed the pale buzzed hair guy.

Deeply exhaling you step down and make your way over to the men and fold your arms, “Miguel, what’re you doing here?”

“Can’t be anything good,” Jey adds while he continues holding Atonga by his collar.

Miguel blinks at him and then the dog, “Mind if you put him away so I can have a civil conversation?”

Jey sucked air between his teeth with a grin, “oh this little guy? He’s a sweetheart.”

Miguel raises his brows in disbelief, one hand that was resting on his waist moved to where his firearm was, which the two of you noticed. Jey met your eyes and with a nod of your head, he quickly pulls the dog away to one of the guest rooms for a moment before making his way back.

“You don’t look that happy to see me,” Miguel attempts to joke with a raise of his hands, “that kinda hurts my feelings.”

Lifting your shoulders you reply, “I can’t say the expression on my face would be any different if you didn’t have that monkey suit on but—

Jey snorts out a laugh, which he clears his throat afterwards once Miguel sends him a sharp look before Miguel turns his attention back to you.

Miguel shortly exhaled through his nostrils, “Right, this suit is actually doing you a favor so I’d be a little more thankful.”

“Whatchu mean by that?” Jey clasps his own hands in front of him, defense mode was activated now.

You exhale, “Miguel, I don’t have time for this push and pull shit you commonly like to do, so just spit it out so you can get out my house.”

“I see your attitude still hasn’t changed. I thought we squashed our beef and it was all love?” Miguel’s mockery was still there and highly irritating.

Tilting your head to the side you cackle, “was that before or after you trashed my character to the tabloids over a little relationship when we were what? Eighteen?”

Miguel frowns, “I wouldn’t call my first serious relationship of three years to be little. Which is why I said what I said, if things don’t benefit you then you couldn’t care less. Maybe that’s why Roman did what he did and you didn’t give enough.”

“You don’t know me you spineless bitch!” And you stepped to him but an arm goes right across your torso from Jey before he shields you completely from Miguel.

Jey shakes his head while Miguel breathed out a laugh as he pinches at his straight nose, “I think you should stop instigatin’ and just say what you need to say, bro.”

“That’s officer to you, bro.” Miguel clarifies with a sharp stare but Jey just mockingly nods his head back and forth.

“My fault, officer pig.”

You grip Jey’s wrist and move to stand beside him, meeting his eyes to show him that this was mainly your problem not his.

Miguel ran his tongue over his teeth in annoyance but to your surprise he takes the higher road, “you’re right, I apologize.” He starts but directs that apology mostly at you, “I didn’t come here to start shit, I truthfully came to tell you something that’ll benefit—that’ll be useful to you.”

Clapping your hands together you rolled your hands about, awaiting for him to just say what needed to be said since he first opened his mouth to you.

“It’s Roman.”

Both you and Jey felt your blood run cold at this.

Miguel flicks his eyes from the both of you as he says his next words, “He’s been out in Florida this past week and recently made a purchase on a building to potentially expand either The Medallion or Bloodline. Miami’s team been watching him since he’s touched down in their city but a major red flag went off after recent events.”

Both you and Jey shoot confused glances at each other.

“Don’t tell me you two aren’t aware that Celosia Darlington was found dead yesterday night off route 41?” He deeply scans their faces for any changes in their expressions, “It appears that she was in a hit and run accident, she was thrown from behind off her motorcycle and it’s being investigated by my team.”

Jey has his eyes in slits, “and you think Roman had something to do with it? You just said he was in Florida when this happened.”

“Correct, yet a vehicle registered to him was found on surveillance…which leaves us to believe that he knows what happened and who was driving his vehicle.” His eyes lingers on you for some time before carrying on, “Also the building he purchased in Miami belonged to Celosia’s step-brother, who has been missing since March.”

Massaging the space in between your brows you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “What does Celosia’s step-brother have to do with Roman?”

“Roman loaned Celosia’s step-brother the funds to purchase that exact building back in January and her step-brother has a history of money-laundering.”

“Fuck.” Jey hisses.

This was bad, real bad.

Roman wouldn’t just loan a large amount of money without purpose, especially to someone he couldn’t trust. If he did this for Celosia’s step-brother, there had to be a reason and if he was missing? Then things really were turning to shit and it’s possible that Roman had something to do with it. However you and Jey both would never reveal that.

Miguel continues, “He’s been arrested and flown in to us. And I’m here to let you know that you’re also being suspected. The team will be here in the next fifteen so…that’s just a tip from me to you.”

“Why are you looking out for me?” You suddenly ask.

“Because believe it or not, I really loved you once upon a time,” Miguel disclosed with a soft sigh, “I want you to win and don’t want to see you get hurt any further. Especially if it’s at the cost of a grown ass business man who goes by: The tribal chief.”

“Aye, watch yourself. You’re not part of what we got going on, so you wouldn’t get it.” Jey warns while Miguel raises a hand in surrender, although he wants to laugh in the bronzed skinned man’s face, thrilled he could return the favor of striking a nerve.

Miguel looks at you one last time affirming, “fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes.” You dip your head, “Thanks, Miguel.”

“Ah, don’t mention it.” He winks, “but also don’t forget it.”

Which makes you roll your eyes although a small smile appears on your lips which Miguel mirrors with a crooked one. Jey breaks that up real quick, waving the swat member towards the door, followed by a forceful close of the door after Miguel takes his sweet time whistling along and eyeing the downstairs of the home.

Jey blows out a breath, “I see your type is assholes.”

“Jey, now is not the time.”

“I know sis.” Jey grips the back of his neck feeling some stress coming on, “I think I need to slide, hit up Jimmy, Sikoa and check on bloodlines where the rest of the family is most likely at.”

“Yeah you shouldn’t be here when they get here but please be careful…they’ll probably be on all of our asses now.”

Jey nods and steps forward to grip the side of your neck and place a kiss to your forehead while you hold your hand on top of his. “Can I take Atonga with me?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to steal my dog.”

“What can I say? Everybody loves uncle Jey!” He pops his collar with a grin while you fan your hand at him as a signal for him to do so.

Fifteen minutes gives you enough time to set a timer, change from lounge clothes to another set, have a cup of raspberry lemonade, and have your bag near by ready to go once that knock came at your door. You kept offline because you’re sure anything you did up to the time swat came to your door, would be monitored.

You kept calm as those fifteen minutes came around quickly and took your time getting to the door once the harsh knocks sounded. Turning the tv down, you take some seconds before getting to your feet, remote still in hand as you head to the front door, eyes fixated on the tv as you pull the door open.

Turning to the familiar three faces you meet each of their eyes in faux surprise, “Hondo, Deacon, Tan? I’d say it’s good to see you but I’m sensing this isn’t a friendly visit.”

Hondo dips his head to confirm that as he says your name, “hey…we’re gonna need you to come with us.”

You blink, “okay…and it takes three of you to do that?”

“It’s a special situation,” Deacon tells, “involving your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend? Roman Reigns and his personal assistant Celosia Darlington who was murdered last night.”

They all watch your face at this news.

Sucking in your cheeks you answer, “Well…I guess you’re right then, it is a special situation.”

Tan and Deacon share a glance at your words.

“Target the people that had the most interactions with the deceased.” You nod.

Hondo tries to ease how this appears to make it sound better but he knows you’re smarter than to believe his attempt to smooth over the truth of your words.

Tan is the one to speak next, “You know it’s nothing personal and how this goes.”

You give a tight lipped smile, “right so…which one of you is going to watch me grab my bag or…do one of you want to grab it for me?”

How did you have ties to SWAT? Your father was part of a team out in Long Beach back where you grew up and did some work with the twenty division in his remaining years before a serious injury left him paralyzed ending his career. You ended up following in his footsteps at twenty-one, working for the LAPD and working your way into the S.W.A.T. field before you gave that up to…you guessed it! be a full-time actress once you caught your big break.

And sure they still liked to give you shit for “abandoning,” them but it was evident that’s not where your heart laid, although you proved how big of an asset you were for the short time you were part of S.W.A.T..

“You’re not being charged with anything so that’s not necessary.” Hondo states with a hand for you do so.

Tan mutters, “Yet.”

Which earns him a warning glance from Hondo while Deacon does in fact, keep his eyes on you. You’re turning off the tv, reaching for your bag, then heading back to the front door, and hold up a finger to step back and grab your keys off the side table by the door. They give you time to lock up your home before you follow them to the charger.

You’re quiet on the ride to headquarters and the men aren’t sure what to make of that but they decide to not press you on the ride.

There would be enough of that once you’re in the questioning room.

Holding onto the strap of your bag, your eyes are looking all around the building seeing how much has changed and what hasn’t. There’s mostly new faces that already made up their minds as they eye you on your way by.

Guilty.

When you see Roman in passing, in handcuffs being lead in the opposite direction by the commander, it feels like many films you shot before with this moment being in slow motion. Roman can’t take his eyes off you and you see just how everything was taking a toll on him. He may appear collected to everyone else but you saw the stress underneath his eyes, along with the longing for you in them and how his hair was left hanging instead of neatly slicked back into a bun.

You don’t owe him any comfort but you’re not sure if you want to see him suffer either. When you love someone, that means you open up your heart but what happens when you open it up too far and that person leaves it badly bruised?

Start looking out for yourself and hold your own, that’s what.

Shifting your head, you carry on as Roman is almost breaking his neck watching you leave from his sight yet again. He was waiting on his lawyer and had nothing else to say, which meant he was being sent right back to the holding cell while it was your turn to speak your peace.

“Colombian?” You quiz Tan who slides a mug your way with a plastic cup full of ice on the side.

Tan is half sarcastic and half joking, “only the best for our superstar.”

You snicker, knowing just how to get underneath his skin for simply existing before he leaves you alone with Hondo.

“Given the circumstances, you can already guess why you’re here.” He starts as he watches you carefully plunk the ice cubes into the mug before using your pinky finger to spin the contents together.

You sip at the homemade iced coffee, “Losi’s been murdered and the sex tape she made with my—Roman was leaked. Did anyone find out if she was behind it?”

“We can confirm that she was and was supposed to receive $25,000 for it but only received $10,000.” Hondo responds with his hands clasped on top of a folder.

You snort, “tough titties.”

“How so?”

“It’s evident that she was money hungry.” You notify, “I don’t get involved in Roman’s businesses but I know he had to be giving her a good amount since he didn’t have a separate assistant—that I know of—to take care of the gym business. Bloodline has much more value to him than the casino.”

“Right…because he comes from a family full of fighters except for his mother.”

“Yup.” You answer and add more sugar, stir, wipe your finger clean on a near by napkin and take another sip.

Hondo opens the folder and spins it to face you before spreading the crime scene photos along, “Was the money the last straw for you? Enough to make you so angry to chase Celosia down the freeway, run her down, get out the car, and finish her off with specific shots to the body: one to the Radial Artery as she pleaded for her life, one to the Aorta, and right to the head to end it all? Did it make you feel any better?”

You swallowed the coffee as you looked away from the photos to meet the bald man in front of you, “It’s real tiring, hearing how everyone dictates how I should feel or questioning how I am feeling because of some shit someone else did. I get by and no I wasn’t expecting to hear how tragically Losi’s life ended, yet I can’t say I’ll shed a tear for a snake.”

“A snake that also asked you for money over the phone after the tape got leaked and you laughed at her.”

You lifted your shoulders not bothered that they knew this information, “what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t owe that girl a damn thing after she slept with my man.”

“Then you killed her.”

You stare up at the ceiling in frustration thinking about how it was once upon a time on the other side, “I’ve played a criminal in a few movies, doesn’t mean I am one in real life.”

Hondo pushes his lips out with a shrug of his shoulders, “Sure but you’re also dating a crime boss.”

You laugh, “Hondo, are you forreal? No. Innocent until proven guilty.”

“You’re still covering for him.” Hondo sighed with disappointment, “we know that both the medallion and bloodline partly stands for some underground organized crime and if we can’t get Roman for the murder of Celosia then he’s going down for the disappearance and presumed murder of her step-brother. Along with drug-trafficking, aggravated assault, and conspiring to commit money laundering. When he goes down, so will everyone else involved with him.”

You nod, “that’s the thing…I’m not involved with him anymore and I don’t have any clue about any of what you just mentioned. I’m also innocent.”

“Bullshit!” Hondo slams his hands down on the table, “you know, I’d hate to see everything you worked so hard for go right in the trash because of someone like him. I thought you let go of Swat to have a different safe life but you’re in just as deep. On the wrong got damned side! Are you sure Roman ever loved you because if he did? You wouldn’t be sitting here.”

Those words had weight especially training underneath Hondo. It stung but one can’t forget, you were also part of this team not too long ago, so you would never show just how much it did.

“Hondo…are you charging me or am I free to go?”

Funny, Roman said the same thing pretty fast with the request to call a lawyer and they had more on him than on you.

“I think you should keep that seat warm a little longer and I’ll be back.” Hondo advises with a stern look before he scrapes his chair back to exit the room.

In the quiet you sit, one hand on the cup of coffee while the other rests on your lap. It’s parallel to Roman who sits in the cell, elbows buried in his knees as his wavy hair curtains his face. He couldn’t believe he was here, how everything was slowly crumbling all because of a screw up, although he’s had many voices tell him before that everything would catch up to him at some point.

He didn’t think he’d see the day, not when he was just getting started. It was just like you said, he wasn’t good at taking any loss and he hasn’t yet. If he had to lose it all then he was damn sure determined to build it back up again with his bare hands if he had to. And every king needed its queen no matter which way she decides to play her own cards.

Roman’s played defense before and his queen wanted to be offense. There became more than one head of the table (secretly) when he met you so perhaps now was the chance for you to make some shots, not all.

Lifting his head, he closes his eyes and cracks his neck before clasping his hands together.

And he waited.

The door behind you opens, revealing heavy footsteps that tap rather than clunk as they make their way around the table. A small smile forms on your lips at the rim of the mug as you swallow, lowering the cup back to the table.

The man in the tan suit chooses to sit on the edge of the table and sends you his award winning smile as he says your name in greeting.

“Rock,” you address the burly man, “what took you so fucking long?”

His body lifts in laughter, “I’m a busy man lady but I always make time for family.”

Which lets you know he’s made a visit to the bloodlines first. You didn’t call him but you knew who did.

“So how can I help?”

“Can you go back and make joe not stick his dick in Losi?”

Rock exhales, “wish I could but you and I both know that was a Roman move not Joe.”

Which you already had time to think over. You had your own stage name and persona you had to put out into the world. Except you didn’t do too much in the public where it’ll reflect badly on who you were behind closed doors.

“I know,” you breathe out reaching over to rest your hand right on top of Rock’s who turns his own to squeeze yours warmly, “doesn’t make it hurt any less though.”

He pats your hand with his other, “we’ll get through this, we always do. Just hold on.”

“Always do, my grip is vice.” You wink while Rock nods his head, getting back to his feet.

“So I’ve heard, and that’s why you’ll always classify as a bloodline and if you ever want a career change—

You snort, “ha! I think I’ll choose early retirement before I change anything else.”

“Hold up, what’re you?! Thirty-one? You’ve got more fight in you than you say, this I see. So c’mon and continue to give ‘em hell so that they’ll never underestimate what the vice is all about.” He rests a free hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before the door is pushed open, revealing Hondo and Deacon.

Rock fixes his suit jacket, “my client and I are finished here.”

“Wait a minute, aren’t you going to stick around for further questions?” Deacon’s eyes are in slits, clearly finding this suspicious.

Rock sends them his beaming smile, “you must have forgotten how well she’s capable of handling herself. You have nothing on her and all of this is just theories. I give you the next thirty to forty-five minutes to release my client and if you’re not done by then, I’ll remove her myself.”

“You have no authority here.” Hondo bites.

Rock’s smile never falters although a brow threatens to arch, “ah, so you haven’t checked my credentials yet…huge error on your part don’t you think? Gentleman.” He bids his farewell and Deacon follows him out with a clenched jaw.

Hondo turns back to you, resting his hands on the cool table as he leans towards you, “the hell are you all playing at?”

Wiggling your fingers in the air you sit back against the chair, “I’m just an actress.”

“Yeah…well we’ll see how good of an actress you really are.” Hondo snaps as he begins pacing before folding his arms, “now start talking, from the point you found out about the tape.”

Rock got a head start away from Deacon, sneaking his way into the holding area which is empty besides the person he’s looking for. He’s whistling now, shades covering his eyes as he strolls through the quiet area. He knows he has to be quick but he also knows that Deacon has lost sight of him. Rock makes his way over to the cell, still whistling as he spins, pressing his elbow against the cell before tossing his arm back with a white slip in Roman’s direction.

“Uce,” is all rock says before he circles back around, still whistling and then exits back out of the area unseen…well that’s until they look at the cameras later.

Roman waits for Rock to leave his sight before he pushes up to his feet, walks to the space where the white paper is resting, covering it with his foot before he shuffles all the way back to the bench. Once seated, he bends an arm down to pick at the edge of paper underneath his shoe and carefully unravels it.

His eyes quickly peers over the words and a smirk appears on his lips.

Offense: 1

S.W.A.T.: 0

Defense: ?

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ

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cvnt4him · 10 days

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Think ab it, shoyou hinata coming back from Brazil desperate and needy for his one true love. Hes been waiting and yearning to get home so he can hold you and kiss you and bite you and shit like the little gremlin he is. Except, he's no longer little.... He's gotten a tad bit taller and had a sweet little tan going on. It suits him so well, looking at his tan lines compliment his skin so nicely. It's so fucking sexy bro. Urgh n thinking ab the way he'd hold you and breath in your scent, all of it going straight to his cock. He gives you a quick squeeze before kissing you passionately, taking away all of your breath from your body. He lets out little moans throughout the kiss, holding the back of your head and dipping you slightly as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. For the quick second he breaks away to take a breath, within an instant he hoists you up in his arms and slams you down on the couch, getting ready to claim your body again after all these years.

but erm yk, hinata shoyou 😞

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eun-luv · 3 months

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𝓑𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓮 이렇게 부르고 싶은 이름 내 곁에 🍃

Mark | nct @n-americano

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iguana-eyanna · 4 months

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Got Me Smiling More

Pairing: Victor Tan x pastlover!reader

Summary: Tan hasn't felt alive since his divorce, and a light switches when he bumps into an old flame.

A/n: this is shorter than my past works but I wanted to give Tan a spotlight cause he deserves it. (I’m also a few episodes behind season 7 so don’t judge me lmao)

"Luca, I told you already that they ran out of the protein powder at Target." Tan said as he was hassling his phone, trying to scan the empty shelves by the produce aisle.

Tan just asked respectfully if Luca needed a thing or two while he was doing a grocery run. Tan didn't realize he'd be buying half of the store on Luca's account.

Tan turned around and saw someone facing backward, wearing a red shirt, assuming it'll be an employee.

"Yes, man, I'll ask if they have in the back. I'll call you back."

Tan hung up and prayed under his breath before he went up to the employee.

"Hey sorry, I was wondering if you have-"

The person spun on her heel and faced Tan with fury.

"Ugh for the millionth time! I don't work here!"

You looked up to the seventh person that's been bothering you since you set foot in the store and you see Tan.

Your old high school sweetheart.

"Tan?" You said in disbelief.

He was almost speechless seeing you stand in front of him.

"He-Hey! I'm- so sorry I didn't mean to assume you worked here." He said, apologetically.

"No, you're totally fine. It was my fault that I decided to wear this top today. But I really needed to stock on some k-cups so I came here real quick." You said

"You're still drinking caffeine? Last time we've been studying for our exams, you were surviving on energy drinks and your eye was twitching for a good week."

"Hey! Don't be judging me." You sassed back, making Tan give a hearty laugh.

God you missed that laugh.

You playfully roll your eyes, trying not to show red your cheeks were.

"Anyways, I see you have your hands tied, so I'll let you get back to your shopping. Just don't ask me where the toilet paper is." You joked.

"I'll try not to. But I love to catch up sometime if that's alright."

You were hesitant. Last time you heard about Tan, was that he eloped with someone. You hesitantly look down at his left hand and saw no ring.

He caught on to what you were doing. He always read you so easy, there was no way of ever lying to Tan.

"I'm uh... divorced. It's on the down low so I get it if-"

"No, no it's not like that Tan. I just, didn't want any zealous wife attacking me while I'm munching down a croissant."

He laughs, not realizing how he hasn't felt so at ease talking about his divorce in the past months.

You take one step closer to him and smile.

"But I'd love to catch up with you. Give me your phone."

Tan wastes not a second and gives it to you as you dialed your phone number.

"Here, call me when you think of me. I'll see you later."

You spun on your heel, about to get out of the produce aisle until your phone rang with an unknown number.

"Hello?" You ask

"Just wanted to see if you gave me a phony number." Tan's voice said.

You turn around and see Tan just a few feet away with you.

"You know I'd never do that to you." You said, still talking in the phone.

"I know... I just, wanted to look at you another time."

Your heart pounded faster, and now remembering how smooth this boy is.

"Fuck it, you just wanna grab coffee now?" You said, hanging up your phone and coming closer to you.

Tan throws down his disregarded groceries and goes up to you.

"I thought you never asked."

Luca is watching something on his phone until he saw the entrance door swung open. Tan walks in with his hair in a mess and the buttons on his shirt hastily buttoned.

"Tan, bud, where's the groceries? Did you find the protein powder?" Luca asks as Tan's hands were empty. He investigates the younger man and sees something out of the oridinary.

"Is that lipstick?"

Tan widens his eyes as he wipes it off and looks down to see your shade of lipgloss painted on his face as he chuckles to himself.

He looks up to Luca who coughed abruptly and straightens up.

"I'm uh- gonna lie down for a bit. I'll get the groceries tomorrow."

Tan bullets to his room and shuts the door, leaving Luca speechless.

"Damn, I should go to Target more often." Luca said before he shrugged it off, heading his attention back to his phone.

#victor tan #victor tan x reader #victor tan imagine #swat cbs

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autistic-brushstrokes · 8 months

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Tan: How is spring not everyone’s favorite season? The trees are PINK, guys!

Hondo: Allergies are also a problem, y'know.

Tan: But pink.

Jessica: And it's hot.

Tan: PINK!

#victor tan #chris alonso #stris #cbs swat #swat #ncis #chris alonso x reader #chris x street #ao3 #incorrect swat quotes #incorrect quotes #luca swat #lapd swat #deacon kay #hondo swat #hondo harrelson #Christina Chris Alonso #cbs tv

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plooto · 1 year

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ meeting him after breaking up with bonnie . ft. victor tan

warnings . divorced ! victor , hc style

words . 545

-> it was after his suspension when you two met, the one day you go to try and work out, he’s there. you got there when he was finishing his last set. without thinking, your feet took you to him.

“ hi! i um..i though you were cute and i was wondering if i could have your number.. get to know you ? ”

-> he took your number, but informed you he was getting over a bad breakup, to which you respected, giving him time to reach out to you.

laying in bed after a long work day, you’re cuddled in your favorite pjs with a cup of your favorite juice when your phone rang. you had his number saved, eternally thankful of your forgetfulness.

-> the two of you talked allll night. until 4am when you crashed first, tan not hanging up the phone, but having to when he woke up for work, barely an hour later.

-> since that night, you two talked every night, vowing to not stay up that late again.

-> he called you after his shift, and you were up, waiting for his call every night—till one night , he didn’t .

-> he was still hurt , his failed marriage with bonnie , getting booted from the TLI exam , he couldn’t try something new right now.

-> you thought you’d been ghosted , just another guy that lost interest or something , right ? oh you couldn’t have been more wrong..

-> you probably go to the gym again , hoping the new burn of your muscles would take your mind off of him.

you’re minding your own business , retying your hair and picking up a weight .

“ hey uh , i thought you were cute.. and i was wondering if i could get your number ? ” you pulled off your headphones to see him beside you.

-> you didn’t want to pressure him into telling you why he went ghost , but , he told you anyway . while he was confessing to you

“ i’m sorry for going radio silent on you..these past weeks . i had a lot going on, but that’s not an excuse . if you’ll have me, i’d like to get to know you . ”

-> you were shocked to say the least , after he went ghost you figured he just wasn’t into you after he went silent but you gave him another chance .

-> he was a nervous wreck , he didn’t want to make a big deal of it at work , but he couldn’t stop himself from calling you right after work .

“ hey , y’n ! i remembered you wanted to go to that restaurant downtown ? i booked reservations for us tonight . i’ll pick you up at what , eight ? ”

-> remembers everything ! kinda

-> your first ever fight was over something so small , just tan getting lost in his head.

“ hey um victor , i was just wondering.. if we could invite your friends out to eat with us ”

-> the last woman he introduced to them , she screwed him over . he said he’d think about it .. luca ended up catching it , then powell and then street and hondo and it just went down the line . push comes to shove and he was bringing you out on a date , meeting the rest of the team at the place .

-> watching you interact with his team was the highlight of his year

..maybe you weren’t so bad

published . september 28 , 2023

#victor tan #swat imagines #swat cbs #swat x reader #tan x reader #victor x reader #victor tan x reader #tan swat x reader #rae thinks 🍓 // headcannons #. character // victor tan

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writings-of-a-demigod · 2 months

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“What are you thinking so hard about?” Hondo chuckled a little.

“Oh you know just some facts.” You shrugged.

You were standing in the middle of the hallway just spacing out when Hondo approached you.

“Well come on lay it on me I wanna hear it” he told you smiling.

You two started walking together when you started.

“Did you know that alligators don’t age biologically? They don’t die from old age, they die from starvation or a disease” you informed him.

He stopped walking and thought about it for a minute “I didn’t know that”

You turned to look at him “Yeah I know and now you do” You smiled and kept walking.

___________________________________________________________

“Hey Y/n”

Tan walked in and looked at the screen looking for new info’s about the case they’re working on.

“Oh hey Tan”

You looked up from the iPad in your hands to glance at him then back to the screen.

“Got anything new?”

“Oh yeah did you know that Koalas spend 99% of their life eating and sleeping and the other 1 % they spend searching for a mate, where they wander around aimlessly until they find one. If they don’t find one, eventually they just give up and go back to sleep.”

Tan looked at you blinking with a confused expression on his face, he pointed at the screen.

“I meant about the case”

“Oh that, yeah check this out.”

___________________________________________________________

“I read something interesting lately.” Deacon started.

You were making a sandwich in the kitchen when he walked in and starting have a conversation with you, nothing out of the ordinary just normal break time.

“Me too” you were getting the ingredients ready for your sandwich.

“You tell me first” he gave you a soft smile.

“Okay so listen to this did you know that the smell of gasoline can irritate bees? And it may excite them to sting so imagine what would happen if you put a tube with bees to someone’s open mouth and a little smell of gasoline” you looked at him with evil smirk on your face.

“You truly scare me sometimes you know that?” That’s all he said to you before walking out of there.

*gif not mine*

A/n: I love writing for SWAT so much and I enjoyed this one 😂 as you can tell. I always tell my friends the most terrifying random-ass facts so I thought this would be fun.

#writings-of-a-demigod #swat #swat imagines #hondo #hondo imagines #hondo x reader #deacon kay #deacon imagines #deacon kay x reader #deacon x reader #victor tan #victor tan imagines #tan x reader

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tange-my-rine · 7 months

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Temporary Fix || Tangerine x gn!reader

Summary: You and Tangerine weren't complicated, sometimes you'd see him on the job and he'd provide you... stress relief. It was easy, so easy. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, just friends (barely acquaintances really) doing what you both needed. It wasn't like you could have someone on the job anyway. You didn't think it was anything that would change. But, he had never seen you hurt before, and when a job goes wrong, well... everything changes.

TW: friends with benefits (for now), mentioned sex (but nothing graphic), protective! Tangerine, possessive!Tangerine, violence, blood, murder, guns, gunshot wounds, mentioned death, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: yes this is a one direction title, what about it??? also the reader's codename is 'Mouse', you work with Ladybug. Tan calls you pretty but who doesn't to be called pretty?? This is got really long, sorry !!!]]

You were pretty good at your job, your messes weren't messy and your kills were organized, clean really. (Your agency did have a cleanup crew for when things got out of hand, so your work still stayed pristine even when it did get messy.) That's how you got your code name, Mouse, because you were in and out of a location as quiet 'as a mouse'.

You're not sure when you met the twins, but you do remember it was bloody. Something about you showing up to your gig and a trail of blood led you through the building right into their presence. You'd somehow known it was the twins (kind of because of the mess) but otherwise because there was two of them -stuck like glue.

The barrel of two guns pointed at your head, and you shared your mission, and they theirs, which were actually totally unrelated. Needless to say, you got out of there with your USB drive. (Mostly because of Lemon, Tangerine wouldn't have flinched if he pulled the trigger.)

It just kept happening. Undercover missions, hits, and even work you had to travel to, somehow they ended up in the same place. Not always for the same work, you should say, but same destination. You'd originally thought it was some sort of coo, that they were trailing you but after confronting them (and Tangerine saying he didn't 'give a fuck about your whereabouts'), the idea was void.

The first time your... situation had started was one of your missions where you went undercover. Some sort of fancy charity gala, if you remember correctly, and Tangerine was there. Just Tangerine, he didn't tell you why -he hardly even wanted to speak to you.

You'd offhandedly said something about all the rich people being attractive, and how it wasn't fair. He'd promptly said, "You don't have to worry about bein' attractive, love, you're the prettiest one here."

He wasn't flirting, or you didn't think he was -he didn't even smile, or smirk, or anything- just spoke over the rim of his cup and took a long drink after. Your eyes darted to his Adam's apple for a second, you'll admit it.

Nothing else happened that night, you didn't flirt. You don't know what did it, not at all, he just kept looking at you -small little, intense, glances. Once again, you thought nothing of it.

Well, until he pulled you into a closet and kissed the literal breath out of you.

And, well, the rest is easy to figure out.

It didn't happen all the time, not every mission, but sometimes, when the adrenaline was high. You called each other when you weren't on the same mission; he'd done it after the first time, and you followed suit. It was easy, so easy.

That brings you to today, it was supposed to be a grab-and-go, easy. Except for the whole full building of people part, it was an office actually and you needed the CEO. There were so many civilians, but you were Mouse -you'd be in and out so quick, they wouldn't even see you.

Your intel was wrong.

The whole place was filled with bodyguards, and security, head-to-toe, filled. You were good at your job, but you were outnumbered -so incredibly outnumbered.

Needless to say, your disguise of an office worker didn't work.

There was blood tainting your skin, your head on a swivel -fuzzy and pounding. Your were on the third floor, hidden in a janitors closet -the smell of cleaner burnt your nose and made your eyes water.

Your chest heaving and your hands shaking, you were overwhelmed -you couldn't do this alone. God knows how many men were on the last two floors. And you were 90% sure your ribs were broken on your right side, your leg was shot, and your shoulder was shot -you couldn't move. No way you were going up the stairs. You weren't even sure you could leave the building at this point-

You were bleeding out, actually, if the wooziness in your head meant anything.

Your comm was broken on the first floor, you'd cussed and thrown it to the ground. So, even if it still worked, it was lost -long gone of the concrete floors.

You were totally and completely fucked.

Then, you felt something in your pocket, rubbing against your clothes -scratching against the fabric. It buzzed then, low and under the hollowness of your breath; you barely heard it -a pounding in your ears so loud, you think it was your heartbeat.

You breathed out, pulling your phone out with your hand that wasn't lax on the floor -your shoulder wasn't fun to move.

The text flashed across your screen, Tangerine. It was a little blurry, your head spinning but if you focused you could read it.

'You home?'

Something in you sighed, deep and broken; maybe this was the last time you'd ever speak to him. You'd kind of become fond of him, all blue eyes and broad shoulders -his accent and the way his lips would creak up when he smiled at you. You ached for something you didn't have, you realized.

What a fucking time to realize it-

You typed out a message, painstakingly, a single finger -slow and deliberate, 'No. Job. Bleeding out, hidden. Too many.'

Your head was pounding, but you pushed through it, typing, 'I'm sorry, Tan.'

Your hand loosened, laying slack on your lap -your head hurt, maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. Not long, just a second to get the pounding out of your head.

Before you could fully do it, the phone in your lap jostled vibrating -it nearly fell, clattering onto the concrete floor but you grabbed it. Not eager to be found, you could die now but you would die if they found you.

Your eyes flickered across your screen, Tangerine flashed along it, shaking in your hand; he was calling you.

Something in you made you gather the strength to swipe and answer it -maybe to hear his voice again, or to say goodbye. You weren't sure, god you were so tired.

"Mouse," his accent spilled out, pointed, "-fuckin' Mouse, can you hear me, love?"

"Hey, Tan," you croaked out -voice rough and low, still not wanting to get caught and wanting to laugh -you didn't want to die sad, "-funny hearing from you."

"Mouse," he didn't react, seemed to be moving, you could hear his footsteps -loud, loud, "-where are you?"

"On a job," you sighed out, words a little breathless and slurred, "-'Supposed to be an office building, but it wasn't. Security, so many security- Think the CEO was bigger than fucking officework-"

"Darling," he spoke softer, but still loud, direct, "-focus on my voice, yeah?"

"Okay," you hummed, more focused -you wanted to do whatever he wanted, "-I will."

"Now," he spoke, gently, and you heard a car door shut -absentmindedly, "-where are you? Can you remember?"

"On the docks," you answered, slow -trying to process the words you were saying, "-tall, so many windows... Company, it's a... glass company, I think. J-Johnson something."

Tangerine hummed low and warm, you recognized the tone -somehow you knew it, "Okay, okay, love. Good- Good job."

"Third floor," you echoed out, "-There's two more, people still in them, I didn't get far enough."

"Can you hear 'em, love?"

"Sometimes," you let out a long breath, "-I'm staying quiet, they'll kill me, Tan-"

"Relax, darling," his voice crept up to your ear, "-breathe, keep focused, yeah? Keep talkin' to me."

'Lemon, fuckin' drive faster, will you?'

"I'm in a...a janitors closet, it's dark in here, I-I can't see. Think I'm bleeding," you mumbled out -a little slurred, you weren't sure he could hear you.

"Fuck..." he sighed, swallowing something in his throat -you could tell you weren't supposed to hear it, "-Where are you hurt, love? They cut you, shoot you, what?"

"Broken ribs," your breath stuttered out -it stung, "-shot me in the shoulder and the leg, I can't fucking move."

"Right, yeah," he exhaled and you thought for a second it was shaky -something sour in his tone, "-You got any pressure on it? Can you?"

"'Can't move, Tan."

"Try for me, love," his voice shook a little, you couldn't think about it, "-Try the... Try the leg."

You did, moving the arm where your shoulder bled -it ached so heavily your head started to pound, but you pushed through. Pressing your palm hard against the skin, you hissed into the phone -eyes bleary, you think you might've been crying.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered, his voice rough, "-'So sorry, love. I know it hurts like hell, I know."

Your breath shook out through your throat, tone lighter, "'Been shot before?"

"Fuckin' yesterday," he huffed out, all angry and Tangerine, "-some bloody prick grazed my side."

You laughed, and it hurt a little, but you didn't care -not then, "'Always so angry."

"Not at you," he corrected, hardly letting your words slip out, "-Never at you, love."

The hum of the engine stopped, and you heard a distant voice -Lemon, you recognized. It was a sort of murmur to you, you couldn't hear the words. You weren't sure you wanted to.

"Mouse?" He spoke out, slow words but urgent, "-You said the third floor, right? Janitors closet?"

"'s where I'm hiding," you clarified.

"Yeah, right-" you heard the patter of his footsteps, slaps across the sidewalk -some crinkling of fabric, "-I'm on my way, okay? Goin' as fast as I fuckin' can-"

"Be careful," it slipped out of your lips, low and slurred, but you know he heard it.

A sharp inhale of his breath told you so, wordless on the other side of the line -you could only hear the slap of his footsteps, so fast.

"You..." he started, something shaking in his voice, "-You stay alive, yeah? Keep breathin'-"

"Tan-"

"No," he echoed, direct and strict, "-no, you can't die. Not now, okay? You stay fuckin' alive."

"Tan-"

He continued, not slowing down -words frantic, "'Ave so much to say, love, so much. You gotta stay alive to hear it."

"Okay," you breathed out, fighting back the slip shut of your eyes -they burned and you were so tired but you couldn't leave him, not when he was so close, "-I'll stay alive. Promise."

"Promise," he echoed like it helped him understand it -believe it.

Before you knew it, your phone went silent -echoing out into the air. You squinted at it, taking a deep breath -feeling it rack through your body. Dead. Your phone was dead.

God, you'd never hated yourself more. It was so easy to breathe when he was there on the phone, so easy to remember why you were fighting and what you were fighting for.

The silence was overwhelming, a low whimper pursing through your lips -you couldn't see anything but you could feel the blood, sticky on your hand. Something in your stomach twisted, tongue heavy in your mouth; what if you died before he got here?

You can't imagine-

"Lemon," a voice echoed outside the door, "-you deal with the upstairs, keep your eye on it. I'll check every fuckin' room on this floor-"

"Tan," Lemon spoke quieter, a crinkle of fabric, "-they'll be alright. We're 'ere, remember?"

"Right, yeah," Tangerine let out a shaking breath, "-I just..."

"I know," Lemon interrupted, voice stronger, "-I think they know too. 'Just go and fuckin' find 'em, yeah?"

"Don't even have to ask-"

And then, the footsteps grew louder. You knew the closet was close to the stairs, he'd be here soon -god, he'd be here soon. You let out a deep breath, shaking against your chest -a sob racking through your lips, it wasn't loud, not really, but it was noise.

The footsteps stopped in place, and you could hear the harbored breathing for a moment, before it echoed out into the hallway -shaky and full of hope, concern, so much, "Mouse? Mouse? Can you hear me?"

Your breath stuttered in your chest, and the sting of your lungs overwhelmed you for a moment. You breathed out, slow and trying to numb your pain, and talk. But it hurt-

"I-In here-" you breathed out and it was shaking and it was quiet, but without a doubt, the footsteps quickened, so fast you could almost not even hear it.

The door, close to you, sneaked open -light pouring out into the room, it blinded you for a moment. All you could see was the shadow of a figure, you knew it though, knew the shadow. You smelt his cologne, and you had missed it-

Without a single breath shattering out of your lungs, he was standing for a moment frozen -door lazily opened and hallway out of the corner of your eye's view.

Tangerine slunk to your side, eyes dashing across your body, the stains, the blood-

He swallowed, dryly -concerned; you could see the emotions pass through his face. Something in you wants to calm him, tell him you're okay. But you didn't actually know that.

His hair was out of place, curly and ungelled, but still wearing a suit -the blue one that matched his eyes. You like that one, you mindlessly thought.

And without a word, he began to move -shrugging off his jacket. You merely watched on, as he tugged at his sleeves -unbuttoning the cuff (it was all a little familiar actually for very different circumstances), and without hesitation, ripping the fabric off his arm.

The noise echoed through the hallway, startling you slightly. Tangerine flinched a little, frowning, before going back to the fabric.

Hands tenderly gathered at your leg, he gently replaced your hand and wordlessly tied the fabric around your calf. He paused, looking at you, voice soft and gentle.

"This is gonna hurt, love. I'm sorry in advance."

And it did. Who knew?

Your head was bleary, eyes a little hazy and teary from the pain -breaths hollowed out of your chest.

"'Should be the worst of it, love," he hummed out, before sliding a hand behind your back -carefully pulling you up, "-lean on me, okay? I 'ave to get to your shoulder."

You nodded, slowly pressing your head forward into his right shoulder -his cologne filtering through your nose, and the warmth of his body fluttering over your skin. It was comforting, so much that your eyes almost closed on instinct; heartbeat in your ears, the sensation grounded you -brought you back in your body.

Tangerine was moving, looping the fabric under your arm -carefully keeping your arm steady and in place. Fingertips gentle like he was holding the world in his hands -careful and considerate.

"Stay awake, love," he spoke, his voice rumbling into your ear, "-I know you're tired, but I need ya to keep your eyes open for me."

They fluttered open at his request, forehead pressed into his shirt -you could see the thin lines in his vest, tracing the crinkle over his shoulder. You focused on the feeling, the fabric tight around your skin, and the buzz of his skin against yours.

You'd been closer really, but this was a new kind of intimacy -something that made you pleased somewhere deep in your chest. You had always wanted this you realized, this closeness with Tangerine.

How did you not notice?

Even when he stopped, hands still, you stayed there a moment like you'd never get it back.

And maybe you wouldn't. Maybe this changed everything and Tangerine would run for the hills-

Without a word, he laid you back down -gently placing your head on the ground with an attentive hand, a bit like you were breakable. Fragile. You supposed right now you were.

His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned over you, eyes hitching on the makeshift bandages, "We 'ave to get you to the hospital, shirt can only do so much, love."

You thought of the pain in your leg, the pulse of your heartbeat when you walk, but even still, you tried to push up -get on your feet. You promised you'd stay alive.

Tangerine immediately put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get up," you answered, simply.

"Right, no, not happenin'," he let out a laugh in disbelief, "-you are not fuckin' walkin'.

Without another word, he stood -turning around and looking down the hall, assumedly for Lemon. When his eyes caught you could tell, something straightening in his posture with one succinct nod.

They always had their language, it was so interesting to watch sometimes. Lemon would raise an eyebrow, Tangerine would squint his eyes and they'd both not move for 20 seconds like they were communicating through looks.

Before you could think about it too hard, he spun back to you -sinking to his knees. Mumbling, "Think you're fuckin' walkin', ridiculous." No hesitation, he slipped his arms under your back and knees -careful of your calf, and stood.

In another world, you'd probably be shocked at his physical strength but lucky for you, you already knew a lot about that.

Not now, your mind hissed.

Tangerine's steps were quick but careful to not jostle you at all. At some point, you heard Lemon -frantic and loud but you couldn't make out what he said. That was your first sign. The world after that began to spin, the stairwell becoming dizzying -your eyes just wanted to shut. You were so tired.

You heard Tangerine then, you knew he was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what he was saying. You tried so hard to listen-

Then, it all went black.

The first thing was the smell of sterilization hitting your nose, it made you scrunch it up on instinct and then you heard some ruffling.

"Mx. Williams?"

You did not know who Mx. Williams was, but you still squinted open your eyes -the bright lights making your head spin for a moment. You settled across the room, nothing special, just a typical hospital bed -stiff bed, thin covers, and all.

It was a woman speaking, you realized, in scrubs with a warm smile on her face. Ah, you thought, an alias.

"Hi," she spoke softly, carefully, with a smile, "-you're in a hospital, you're safe. Do you remember anything?"

"No," you answered, unsure of the story concocted to get you here.

"You were involved in a robbery," she began, slow to introduce it, "-you had a few injuries from it but you're all fixed up now, okay?"

It was surprisingly calming, "Okay."

"Your husband," she motioned to your right side, "-brought you in."

Your eyes darted to your side -because husband?!, but they just settled on Tangerine -laid back in a chair, arms crossed and chair pulled as close to your side as he could.

Something in you softened, and you smiled.

His clothes were still ripped and stained, but it was dry now. You briefly wondered how long you'd been there, how long he'd been waiting.

"Been a rough couple of days," the nurse hummed, "-he hasn't left since you got here."

You hummed, reaching out and brushing your skin against his hand -just to feel him, know he's real. It didn't wake him up, but you weren't sure you wanted him to just yet. You wanted to enjoy this before everything went... however, it went.

"You've got a good one," the nurse hummed, scribbling on a chart -eyes lounging over the machines.

You smiled a little brighter, imagining it for a second, where he was yours, "I know."

"Alright," she spoke, pushing the clipboard back into her chest, "-your doctor will be here soon."

You nodded, eyes languidly tracing over Tangerine -his head was leaned forward now, curls hanging over. Something in you wanted to brush through them, and you would have honestly, but you couldn't really reach.

You pursed your lips, throat dry, when you spotted water on the little table by your bedside and a thing of jello maybe, probably in preparation for when you got up. Pulling it toward you, maybe a little too fast, because the plastic spoon clattered to the floor; you flinched.

"Shit," you mumbled.

It definitely wasn't loud enough to wake him, but he must've been sleeping very lightly. Sudden and brash, ready to fight something -protective, he didn't even notice you.

"Woah, hey-" you laughed a bit in disbelief, and sipping from the bottle, "-calm down, cowboy."

His eyes immediately flicked to you, blue and darting all over your face like he was taking you in. Wordlessly, he stood there frozen -almost in disbelief.

You paused, looking over him -softer, "You okay, Tan?"

"Am I fuckin... Am I okay?" He echoed out, "-Really?"

"Well, yeah," you responded, slow, "-you seem... riled up."

"Love," he spoke, softer but still so direct, breathless, "-you're in a fuckin' hospital bed. You almost died-"

"Seriously, Tan," you interrupted, you hadn't seen this side of him before, "-are you alright?"

He stood completely still, eyes flicking to yours -hair sticking up in a mess, shirt still ripped. He looked a little deranged, not the worse you'd ever seen, but... there was something in his eyes -a gleam.

You couldn't tell what it was.

"No," he finally answered.

"Are you-" you started, now suddenly darting over the blood (was some of it his?) "-Are you hurt? Did you get checked by-"

"Love," he sighed out, hands raking through his hair, "-you almost died. Do you not hear that? Fuckin' dead, gone-"

"Tan-"

"No, no, no-" he shook his hand, exasperated, in disbelief, "-if I hadn't called, you would be fuckin' dead, Mouse."

"Tangerine."

"What the hell were you bloody doin' there?" He finished succinctly, eyebrows gathered -frustrated.

"A job," you spoke, tone questioning, "-What the hell is your problem?"

"You shouldn’t have fuckin' been there," he nearly growled out, "-that's my problem."

"My intel was wrong," you exhaled, stiff -if he was angry, you would be too, "-I couldn't have known. You think I wanted to solo a whole building of security?"

You trailed off, settling back into the bed -your head was starting to hurt; this was not what you had wanted. Far fucking from it.

He sighed, a big long sigh, briefly pressing his fingers on his temples, "Look, Mouse-"

You didn't look at him, eyes trained on your hands, and the blanket spanned across your lap. You wouldn't give him the dignity of looking at him, not when he was just being a dick.

"I'm not mad at you," his voice was lower now, "-just whoever sent you on that fuckin' suicide mission."

"'Could've fooled me," you scoffed, twisting your arms into a crossed position.

Tangerine sighed again, roaming closer to your bedside and falling to his knees to meet your face better, "Mouse, love, look at me."

You kept your eyes on your hands.

"Mouse, please."

You pursed your lips, he hardly pulled out the please -this was bigger than what you thought it was. Your eyes landed succinctly on his, blue -so blue- already looking at you with something of remorse. Huh.

"I'm sorry," he started, slow with one hand reached up to run through his hair again, "-I know I'm being a fuckin' dick."

"Good guess," you hummed.

"Right, yeah," he shook his head, lips curling up at the corners, "-Look, I... Fuck, I..."

"Tangerine," you put a hand on his shoulder, he was close enough now, "-seriously, what is wrong? I've never seen you like this."

He swallowed, dryly, and you almost offered him your water -he'd been doing that a lot lately.

"You almost died," he repeated.

"Tan, we're not talking about me," you responded, "-I think we both know what happened-"

"Love," he interrupted, repeating again, "-you almost died."

You raised a brow, questioning -confused really, "What does that have to do with-"

"I wouldn't have known," he breathed out, shaky and tone the same, "-you were going to fuckin' die and I wouldn't have known, ya know 'at?"

This was new to you, Tangerine looked shaken, scared. When had he ever been so broken open in front of you, so... so desperate? It was like he cracked open his ribs and you were staring at his heart.

"Tan, I didn't mean to-"

"I would've fuckin'-" he laughed a little, and it was wet -there were tears in the corners of his eyes, "-I'd 'ave heard it through the fuckin' grapevine."

"Tan," you were too soft to stop him.

"Do you know why 'at's fucked up? Truly, do you?"

"Because we're... friends?" You asked, with a lilt -you weren't sure, and even though you felt something you couldn't push that on him. No matter how bad it hurt.

"Fuckin' friends," he laughed, looking up at the ceiling -his eyes were definitely teary, you realized.

"Why are you-"

"Darling, tell me this," he spoke, looking at you now -blue eyes intense on yours, "-do you think I would've grieved you as a fuckin' booty call or a... a friend?"

"I don't..." you spoke, "-I don't know, Tan."

"No, truly, love," he echoed, voice quiet and barely there, "-do you think I would 'ave?"

You fell silent, eyes sliding over his face -the storm of his eyes. It wasn't like a thunderstorm, not angry, just a rain -a dark, heavy rain. You wanted them to be light again, sunny.

You pursed your lips, flicking over his face -there was something different there, something smoothed across his features that you had never seen before. It was something.

"No," you answered finally.

"And you ask me, you ask me-" he started, tears built up now -he blinked them away, "-if I'm okay?"

You didn't say a word.

"You almost-" Tangerine continued, voice breaking as he tilted his head down and took a deep breath.

"Tan," you spoke, softly -something burning in the backs of your own eyes.

"You almost died in my fuckin' arms, Mouse."

"But I didn't," you echoed, "-I didn't. I'm alive, you saved me-"

And then in the tiniest voice you'd heard from him, he looked at you, teary-eyed and exhausted, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Tangerine, I-" you started, "-I didn't know if it... if you-"

"I would've picked up," he spoke, firm and decisive, something biting in his tone, "-If you were halfway across the fuckin' world, I would've found a fuckin' way."

"That's not-" you started, before sighing, "-I didn't know if it mattered to you."

"Mattered to me?" His voice echoed in disbelief, "-If you... You didn't know if your death would've mattered to me?"

"No," you answered, "-I really didn't. I thought... Well, I thought both of you would be fine-"

"Fuckin' fine?" He spilled out, "-You think I would've been fine?"

"I didn't know," you reasoned, "-it wasn't... none of it was... We never talked about it."

"God, I'm the fuckin' stupidest person on this goddamn planet," he breathed out -a mutter, but you still caught it. He was really close to you in this position, you could hear the inhale of his breaths.

"Darling," he spoke, something pent up in his eyes -ready to spill, "-I can hardly function without you. And you think- You really fuckin' think that I wouldn't have cared if you died?"

"I didn't know," you explained, "-I didn't know anything, Tan. We never- We never talked about this, it was simple, easy."

"Well, it's about to get really fuckin' complicated, isn't it?"

"What are you-" you started -confused.

"Consider this me talkin' about it, yeah?" He spoke, looking straight at you -not waiting for an answer, "-The idea of you dying makes me fuckin' sick. 'Makes my whole body feel like my heart fell out of my fuckin' chest, and left a cold, empty shell of a man. Yeah? If you died, I think I wouldn't be able to breathe anymore-"

"Tangerine-" you swallowed back tears.

He continued, "And frankly, the idea of it happenin' has kept me up at night. The idea of it happenin' and me not knowin', not even bein' there- I can't even begin to fuckin' fathom."

"Tangerine-"

"I can't be here without you," he finished, softer and quieter, "-I can hardly fuckin' leave you without it feelin' like I've left a fuckin' limb. A piece of me."

You couldn't speak, tears bubbling up your throat. He stared at you, and all you could do was stare back -eyes unwavering; you wondered distantly where his head was at.

"So, yeah," he cleared his throat -righting himself, "-I would care if you died. 'Would care a fuckin' lot."

"I didn't..." you began, tears burning your eyes -something heavy in your chest, "-I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, a little bluntly, "-you ever see me as fuckin' feelings guy? No, but even still I should've told you a long fuckin' time ago because this-"

His hand motioned to you in the bed.

"This was a fuckin'... worst-case scenario for me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered -you couldn't imagine the pain, if he... if he meant all that.

"You're sorry?" His eyes were attentive on you again, big blue and concerned, guilty, "-no, love, there's nothin' to be sorry for. I... I should've said somethin', I doubt you would've ever been in this state if I had."

"I'd-" you echoed out, "-I'd still have the same job, Tan."

"I would've gone with you," he spoke, "-or been closer... I-I would've fuckin' driven the getaway car if you'd let me."

You paused, eyes flickering over his face -that unnamed thing, you knew it now. It seemed so obvious. Every word he said bounced off your head as it echoed in your mind; he'd said so much, you could read in-between the lines for the rest of it.

"Tangerine?" You hummed.

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff, spent.

"I love you too."

He grinned then, all crow's feet and upturned lips -you'd never seen something so bright. Not from him. Maybe it wouldn't be the last one.

"Thank fuckin' god," he groaned out, "-I really don't know what I was goin' to do if you didn't."

You laughed, a little shy -this was all so new, "Well, good thing you don't have to, yeah?"

"Yeah," he finished, still smiling -his hand came to hold yours for a moment, careful even though you weren't hurt there.

Tangerine seemed thoughtful for a moment, before raising your hand to his lips, "I'm really fuckin' glad you're alright, love."

"Yeah, me too."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the door swinging open cut it short.

"You lot done yet?" Lemon asked, head sticking in the door, "-I've been waitin' out here like 20 minutes. The nurses are startin' to look at me weird-"

Tangerine sighed from beside you, as you spoke, "Come on in, Lemon. Lovely to see you by the way."

He stepped fully in then, your eyes catching on the takeout boxes in the bags he held, "So polite, unsure why you ever liked him."

"Right," Tangerine rolled his eyes, "-Do we 'ave to start this now?"

"You see?" Lemon raised a hand, "-This is how he treats me, yeah? I bring 'im food and I'm fuckin' shot do-"

"Is there something for me?" You questioned, you had honestly never been so hungry in your life -probably your body healing and whatnot.

"'Is there something for you?' Of course, Mouse, I'm very thoughtful like 'at," Lemon smiled, "-unlike this bloke, yeah?"

"Lemon," Tangerine hissed.

"Told ya," he responded, taking a seat in one of the extra chairs on the other side of you.

"I'll fuckin' bite your head off, you know 'at? Rip you limb from limb-"

"Boys, seriously," you groaned, "-can you agree on anything?"

"You need a new handler," Lemon spoke -already eating his meal, to which Tangerine reluctantly nodded.

"Well-"

"And you're with us now," Tangerine offered up, "-anywhere you go, we go."

Lemon nodded, pointing to his brother like in solidarity, "Agreed."

"Guys, really? That's what you-"

"You know how pouty he's gonna be if you aren't?" Lemon retorted, handing Tangerine both his and your boxes -movement fluid right over you.

"I don't fuckin' pout," he murmured, opening the box and setting it on your table -before settling into his chair with his own.

"No, don't even start that shit," Lemon replied, "-you haven't said a full word to me in the last two weeks!"

"That wasn't pouting-"

"What would you call it then, sulking?"

"I'll kill you, Lemon, don't fuckin' start it-"

"Enough you two," you yelled out, not loud enough to attract any unwanted attention, but enough to shut them both up.

You sighed out a big long breath and righted yourself -grabbing a forkful on the food.

"Now," you hummed, grinning at the two of them, "-where are we off to next?"

They raised an eyebrow.

"If I'm staying with you," you repeated, "-where are we going next?"

Tangerine furrowed his brow like it was common sense, "Nowhere, love, you're healing."

"Tan-"

"Seconded," Lemon raised his hand, "-he's already got a place and everythin' might as well give it to 'im."

"When did you-"

"Not important," Tangerine clarified, before turning to his brother, "-See, how hard was that? To fuckin' support me?"

"You're one to talk, mate."

You were really gonna have to get used to this.

Then Tangerine, almost instinctively, scooted his chair forward -placing his box next to yours on the table and with the confidence of a million men, intertwined your hands.

It couldn't have been comfortable, both with the hospital bed barriers and eating with one hand, but he treated it like it was nothing at all. Like he'd do it 100 times over for you.

Okay, you thought to yourself, you could definitely get used to this.

#temporary fix #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine #tan's things

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achilles-rage · 1 month

Text

Oblivious

summary: you're a part of 50 squad, but with street being your best friend, you spend more time with 20 squad. after a rough day at work, street invites you out with the rest of the team. when tan and luca notice you talking to a man at the bar, they take matters into their own hands, knowing that you're both too dense to realize the other's feelings.

word count: 3.1k

request: @heypeople2 - hi! i’d love a friends to lovers fic with street where the reader is on mumford’s swat team, but is friends with all of street’s team and hangs out with them often. maybe two oblivious lovers? if that makes sense!

A/N: i had no idea where i was going with this at first, but i like how it turned out! enjoy<33

TW: none, allusion to smut, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You still remember every single thing that happened on your first day with 50 squad; it was a stressful day, and you weren’t even supposed to go into the field that day because you had suffered a shoulder injury and were still a few days from being cleared for going out into the field. The universe had different plans, however, and both 50 squad and 20 squad were called to the same place. They needed all the people they could get, so you were quick to tell Rocker you could step in. He wasn’t going to let you, not wanting to go against protocol, but the situation was extremely important, so he finally agreed.

You had a group of hostages with you, trying to take them down to the main floor of the building and to safety, when you saw another SWAT agent fall into the hallway a few feet in front of you, who you now know was Street. It was almost a blur how fast you moved, quickly ushering the hostages into the room you were in front of and moving to cover him, taking down the two suspects that had managed to get the upper hand on him.

From that day on, he was smitten. He was impressed by your skill, of course, especially after he learned that you were still injured, but he also thought you were gorgeous. If it wasn’t an active shooter situation, he would’ve had the time to watch your plush body maneuver through the doorway and take down two targets, how strong your thick thighs looked, how your gear clung to your soft belly and chest. Instead, he noticed after all the shooters were taken into custody, when you came over to ask if he was okay in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard.

You had noticed how attractive he was too, his broad shoulders, his lean torso. When you went to make sure he was okay, you were asking out of concern, but also because you were curious about him. He immediately continued the conversation when he told you he was alright, wanting to know everything that he could about you, and the rest is history. The rest of 20 squad quickly picked up on this new friendship, noticing the way your eyes would find each other in a room when the other person isn’t looking, and the way you talk to each other. They also quickly realized how truly oblivious you two were, as it seemed that neither of you knew the other person’s feelings.

Now, over a year later, you and Street are best friends, and it’s because of this that you find yourself hanging out with 20 squad more often than 50 squad outside of work, although you still love everyone on your own team.

“Rough day, killer?” you hear from across the parking lot as you step out of the armoured vehicle, groaning softly as you feel the pain in your shoulder. It may have been over a year ago, but after an especially hard day of work, your shoulder still gives you some trouble. It’s nothing some painkillers and a heating pad can’t fix, but until you get home and get them, the dull ache remains.

“You have no idea.” Street chuckles at your response, taking in your figure. He notices the way you’re holding yourself, he’s seen it before, he knows your shoulder is giving you trouble.

“We just got back a few minutes ago, we’re all going to get drinks. A drink or two might help with that.” he tells you, a smirk on his face as you walk over to him, starting to take off your gear.

“Yeah, alright. But it’ll be an early night. Want to share an uber over there? I don’t want to leave my car there overnight.” You want nothing more than to go home and lay on the couch with a heating pad over your injury, but as soon as the option of spending more time with Street appears, you can’t help but say yes. He shakes his head at your words, scoffing.

“I can just take you on my bike. I’m not drinking tonight.” he tells you nonchalantly, trying to ignore the feeling in his chest as he imagines you pressed against him on the back of his bike. He imagines your thick thighs wrapped around him, your torso against his back, even though he knows he shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend like that.

You tense at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You’re imagining the exact same scenario as him, but you can’t help the slight insecurities that race through your brain at the image. Your soft body pressed against his. He’d be able to feel every curve of your body, even the ones you usually keep hidden, knowing that although you’ve grown used to them, and are beginning to like your body again, not everyone likes to see them. You also think of having to sit on the tiny seat of his motorcycle, him having to hold up the bike along with your added weight, and you can’t help the nerves twisting at your insides. Imagining how you’d look squeezed onto the back of his bike is something you really don’t want to have to think about, so you’re quick to respond.

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to-” He cuts you off, shaking his head as he speaks.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to be spending money on an uber when you can just ride with me.” he tells you, but a hopefulness breaks through his features, lighting up his eyes ever so slightly. You pick up on this, and let out a sigh, knowing he won’t let this go. Maybe you can do it just this once, and then tell him it was too scary and you never want to do it again, you think. Maybe then, he won’t ask again.

“Alright, fine. I’m just gonna take a quick shower and change. I’ll meet you out here in 15?” you tell him, smiling softly as he nods. You turn and quickly walk into the building, making your way to the locker room.

The nerves are taking over every inch of your body as you rinse off quickly, your brain going into overdrive as you think about having to ride on Street’s motorcycle. It’s a short distance to the bar you guys usually go to, but it’s still a decent amount of time to be pressed up against Street.

Once you’re showered and changed, you go out to the parking lot, letting out a shaky breath before you get close enough to Street for him to hear it. He notices the way you’re still holding your arm a little awkwardly, and he feels a little bad for inviting you out.

“You take some painkillers already?” he asks softly, worry spreading across his face as you shake your head.

“I ran out. I’ll have to get some on my way home.” He turns and reaches into his bag, taking out a bottle of the same meds he’s seen you use. He never told you, but he went out and bought some when he found out which ones you prefer. He knows how much your shoulder bothers you after rough days, and he wanted to make sure you never have to go without them should you run out.

Your eyes soften as he pulls them out, and you take them from his hands. You take one quickly, then hand them back to him, thanking him softly.

He hands you his spare helmet once he puts the pills back in his bag and gets on, holding a hand out for you to get on behind him.

Your ascent is a little awkward, but you finally manage to get on with his help, your cheeks hot as embarrassment fills your stomach.

He finally starts to drive and you put your arms around his waist tightly, feeling your breath pick up as he turns onto the road. You know he can sometimes be a crazy driver, but he seems to hold back today, perhaps picking up on your nerves.

Street has a hard time focusing on the road as he makes his way to the bar; having you pressed up against him so tight has him fighting every urge to drive right from work to his house and dragging you upstairs to bed. The way your arms are tightly wound around him also gets him a little riled up; how you’re putting so much trust into him. He makes sure to take it easy. If anything were to happen to you because of his driving, he doesn’t think he would ever recover.

When you finally make it to the bar and walk in, Tan and Luca are quick to look over at you two, their eyes immediately going to each other with raised eyebrows as they see the way Street’s hand is on your lower back, and the way you’re looking over at him with twinkling eyes. They’ve been trying to get you two together for months; and they feel like tonight is finally the night they can make it happen. You catch up with the rest of the squad for a few minutes, before you lean to whisper in Street’s ear that you’re going to go get a drink.

“You want me to come with you?” he asks over the music and chatter of the bar, but you shake your head, giving him a soft smile. You tell him you’ll just be a minute before you turn and walk over to the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish with another customer.

“That’s a nice bike you rode in on. What year is it?” you hear a voice beside you speak. You turn with a raised brow, looking up at a man who came into the bar just after you, seeing you getting off of Street’s motorcycle.

“Oh, um, I have no idea.” you tell him, giving him a small smile.

“It’s a nice one, your boyfriend hasn’t told you anything about it?” Your breath catches in your throat at the word boyfriend. You feel embarrassed, but also a sense of pride that he thinks you’re dating him. You shake your head, letting out a soft laugh.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and he doesn’t talk much about it to me.” you admit sheepishly. The man gives you an awkward smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I just assumed-” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. You give him an earnest smile, putting your hand on his arm as you tell him that it’s alright. You can sense he’s a little embarrassed, and that wasn’t your intention. It was an honest mistake.

You’re so focused on the man that you don’t notice that Luca and Tan’s eyes are glued on you the moment the man walks up to you. Smirks break out onto both of their faces as they watch, both of them having the same idea.

“Hey, Street. I think that guy’s trying to steal your girl away from you.” Luca teases Street as he motions over to you at the bar. Street turns in the direction Luca’s pointing at, about to tell him that he doesn’t have a girl, but his words fall short. He looks over just in time for you to give the man a smile as you place your hand on his arm, and he can feel the jealousy bubbling up inside him.

“Yeah, man. You should go get her, before he tries to take her home.” Tan chimes in, smirking as he sees Street’s fists clench at his sides and his jaw clenched. Street is seeing red at this point, imagining you going home with that man instead of him.

He marches over to you quickly, unaware that the rest of the squad’s conversations have died down, and they’re all now looking at the situation unfolding with smirks.

“Hey babe.” he purrs, wrapping his arms around your plush waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He smirks at the man as he sees his brows furrow, feeling like he’s already won, but wanting to take it further.

“Uh, hey, Street. What’s up?” you ask, confusion laced in your voice as you turn your head to look at the side of his face. You’re used to his flirty tendencies, but this is definitely different than you’re used to.

“Just wanted to see if you were ready to go home.” he says in a low tone, kissing your neck softly. His eyes are trained on you, but he watches the man from the corner of his eye, his smirk widening as he sees the confused expression on the man's face and the way he takes a step back from you two.

“What are you talking abou-” You’re cut off by Street’s lips on yours, his hand coming up and using two fingers to tilt your head towards his. Your eyes widen in shock for a moment before you finally return the kiss, closing your eyes. He’s not sure what came over him at that moment. He’s wanted to do that since he met you, and watching you with another guy at a bar finally sent him over the edge. You pull back after a moment, turning back to the man, but realize he’s already walked away. You turn in Street’s arms, your eyebrows raised.

“What was that for?” you ask, your whole body feeling like it’s on fire, still reeling from the short kiss.

“He was flirting with you.” he states, as if that’s the only reason he needs. You laugh softly, shaking your head.

“He wasn’t flirting with me. He was asking about your bike.” It’s his turn to be confused. He stays silent for a moment, starting to think more clearly about what he just did. He kissed you, and you kissed him back, and you weren’t flirting with the man at the bar.

“Oh.” he says softly after a moment, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, his own still wrapped firmly around your waist despite his racing thoughts.

“Yeah, ‘oh.’ Why did you do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you look up at him. You think you saw jealousy in his eyes as he approached, but you’re afraid that you’re just seeing what you want to see.

“I don’t know. I had to. I don’t want to see you with someone else.” he says, just loud enough for you to hear over the music. Your drink is long forgotten now as your heart seems to beat louder. Is he saying what you think he’s saying?

“Why not?” You match his volume, and he almost has to bend down to hear you. He can see the glimmer of hope in your eyes, and he thinks that since he’s already gotten this far, he should just tell you the truth.

“I want you all to myself.” he states, smirking as he sees your eyes widen. Your lips part slightly as you try to think of what to say. He’s your best friend, and as deep as your feelings are for him, you’ve never had trouble speaking to him until now.

His eyes search yours as he waits for your response, and he sees the way your lips are beginning to twitch up into a smile and the way your eyes flicker down to his lips for half a second, so he takes his chance.

His lips meet yours again in a soft kiss, and it takes everything in him not to push you against the bar and take you right there. One of his hands reaches up to your jaw, tilting your head up into the kiss, deepening it. He smiles against your lips as you let out a soft whimper, and his other hand moves to squeeze your hip softly.

Your mind is reeling as you kiss him, and you’re not even worried about the way his body is pressed against yours as you get lost in the kiss. It’s not until you hear a loud clinking of a group cheersing their drinks that you pull back, breathing heavily. You have matching grins on your face as you stare into each other's eyes. Street’s eyes dart around the room before they land back on you. He leans in and whispers in your ear.

“You want to get out of here?” You bite your lip as you nod, neither of you even bothering to say goodbye to the squad as you make your way to the door.

The team have been watching the whole time, and they all fight back cheers as they finally see you two give in to one another. Chris chuckles as she watches you two leave, nudging Tan’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Finally. I was beginning to think your ideas were trash.” she teases him, which makes him shrug with a smile.

“They’re both idiots, but they’re perfect for each other, I guess.” The rest of the team agrees with Tan, and their conversations slowly move away from you two to other things, but none of them can wait to tease you two tomorrow.

When you get back to Street’s apartment, he immediately pushes you against the wall, his hands moving to your face as his lips meet yours in a searing kiss. You put your hands on his chest as he slots his knee between your legs, making your whimper softly.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he murmurs against your lips, hands going down and clawing at the hem of your shirt, desperate to see all of you.

You smile against his lips, raising your arms as he pulls your shirt over your head. His lips are back on your in an instant, trailing down your neck to your chest. He nips and sucks at the exposed parts of your chest, and you tilt your head back to give him more access, one hand traveling to the back of his head.

“Please.” you manage to get out through pants, and that’s all he needs to haphazardly guide you down the hall to his bedroom. You bump into a few things on the way, but as soon as he has you sprawled out on his bed, everything else in the world is forgotten.

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skellseerwriting · 2 months

Text

Pirates and Prejudice (and Dragons)

James Hook x GN! Dragon Rider!Reader Pt.1

Reader is disabled (foot prosthetic) and a dragon rider (httyd inspired)

Let me know if I messed up with any gender neutral parts.

I am not disabled, so if anyone who's reading this is, please let me know if anything comes across as weird or negative so I can change it.

Word Count: 1,275

Warnings: VK group being mean, Hook being mean, Reader called "scarface", implies not short hair for reader, presumed ableism, VK group presumes reader is ableist, hurt in this part but comfort in the next, this chapter and the next will be the only ones with presumed ableism

Summary: Reader is beginning school at Merlon Academy, meets young James Hook and is excited over a similarity they share. Hook, however, takes it the wrong way...

Buzzing full of emotions for your first day at Merlin Academy, you got out of bed and got ready for what you had anticipated all summer. You had hardly slept at all last night, but the inexplicable excitement that coursed through your veins more than made up for it. After attaching your prosthetic foot, you moved onto some simple clothes and finally your riding gear. Hands jittered from nerves while trying to strap on the brown leather. You hoped your jaw wouldn’t get to sore from all your smiling.

Grabbing your school bag and some food from the cupboards, you made your way to the stables with a pep in your (slightly limping) step. A metal stable door creaked open and groaned for thirst of oil before revealing a scaled creature of otherworldly beauty.

“Hello Beastie!” You told her, eyes crinkling. Beastie yawned, then started to stretch. Her scales shimmered and shook iridescent colors, and you could never get enough of it.

Getting her some feed and a pat on the wing, you swiftly donned her with her custom brown saddle and took to the skies soon after.

This was the part you loved most. Flying. You never grew bored of it. In fact, you only grew to love it more. Especially those days when the phantom pains were particularly nasty. Some of your peers thought you were crazy. Not because you would ride and handle dragons -they did that too- but because of what one did to you.

Dragon handlers were used to such treatment from hostile dragons, but most ended up dropping out of that career after the first bad injury.

Not you though.

You loved dragons.

You loved flying.

You loved the feeling of the wind striking your face and snapping your hair. Freedom coursing through you like adrenaline as you soared through the clouds and felt the sunlight kiss your skin and for a moment- just for a moment- you felt like you were actually flying. Not on beastie, just you.

And then the moment’s gone, as if it was never there. And you’re left with the reminder that without your dragon, you’re stuck on the ground. Stuck, with one foot, and metal in the shape of a foot.

The melancholy feelings leave as quickly as they arrive once you arrive at the academy. Eagerness overtakes you again and you settle into your dorm, meet your roommate, and start your classes. Although, out of unsureness, you did try to walk as “normal” as you could. If people saw you limping, they might coddle and pity you like others did back home, or slightly worse; treat you as inhuman or something “bad”.

Despite all that, you tried to think highly of all the classmates you had not yet met. This was an esteemed school after all.

However, you learned quickly that not everyone at this school was good. That some would be bad.

Some would be villains.

Your first encounter and understanding of this happened only halfway through the third day. Excitement for learning slowly fizzled out through each class, creating a great eagerness to enjoy the castle grounds and relax for a little while during free time. The smell of water led you to a lovely courtyard with a center fountain that was bustling with students going to and fro. Glancing around, your attention was briskly snatched away by a stationary, nearby group.

They seemed different than the other students. It wasn’t just the darkness of their clothing or the style of their hair (although you swore one of them looked like they had horns). No, it was their gait; how they held themselves and examined the students in motion around them. You recognized that very own behavior in some of the more vicious dragons you’ve handled; it was predatory. Eyes slid over and followed other teenagers walking past, mouths curved into sharp little smiles and sneers. One thing was for certain; they were dangerous.

You were just about ready to walk away before a bright glint caught your eye like some sort of magpie. The source came from the hand of one of the students. He moved his wrist back and forth, showcasing not a hand, but a metal hook in lieu of one. Thoughts of fear were defenestrated by your joy at the sight; you weren’t the only one here with an amputation.

Ignoring the tiny little alarm bells still going off at the back of your brain, you walked as briskly as you could towards him, not trying to hide your limp for once. His friends and him hadn’t even noticed you until you were right in front of them, seemingly distracted together by some pink-haired student.

Grin splitting your face, you gave yourself a moment to examine him more closely. Brown hair was swooped back as if by the wind, framed slightly tanned skin. For a split second it makes you think he could be a dragon rider, but you dismiss the unlikely notion. He held his head high, seeming proud of himself and giving himself the air that he would view dragon riding as something filthy (as many royals tend to do). His clothing looked high-tailored, and most definitely something someone would never risk getting dirty.

Regardless of your slightly judgmental judgement -and now noticing his amused expression upon noticing you- you still wanted to say something to him. Pointing at his pirate-esque metal hand, you told him “I like your hook”. He seemed surprised. Smiling, you added “Makes me want a peg leg.”

Wide eyes instantly thinned into what resembled into a glare while his mouth followed suit into a frown. Did you say something wrong?

“Why would you want that.” He spat. Those unexpected words stung to hear, only ever-so-slightly soothing to the ear due to the pretty accent he had, but stung nonetheless. You opened your mouth but he got there before you. “Do you think losing a limb is fun? That a replacement is somehow better? Prettier?” Now it was your turn for your eyes to go wide.

“No- no I- “

“Then don’t tell me you “want a peg leg”’ he said that last part in a higher, whinier pitch. This time the words shot straight across your chest like dragon claws, making the air you breathed hotter and slower, each breath starting to drag out painfully. You opened your mouth to speak again, words getting tangled in the web of your throat.

“Listen, Scarface.” The girl with horns said with a cruel twist in her voice. Gasping softly, you brought a hand up and touched your face, feeling the pale lines that graced it. Growing hot and sweaty, the nickname sunk in your brain. Yeah, you had several nicks here and there, along with a few gnarly ones, but that was just a part of handling dragons. It was part of the occupation. You had never minded then because it meant you got to fly. They were quite common back home; it didn’t truly matter that you had scars on your face, right?

Black nails snapped an inch from your eyes, aided right after by an eye roll. You completely missed what she said. “Honestly, how can you be so insecure about your scars, yet not care enough about someone else’s hand.”

You were dumbfounded; what could you even say at this point? How did this go so bad so quickly?

You didn’t get the chance to make amends, because after a scoff and a “let’s get out of here”, the group left, leaving you to sit in an awful cauldron that was bubbling with emotions, pain, and stinging tears.

End Pt.1

Pt.2

Thanks for reading! let me know what you enjoyed, if you'd like to know what happens next, and anything writing-wise that'll help immerse you into the story!

#Funny thing that my sister pointed out: Maleficent gets more lines in this than the whole movie #descendants x reader #james hook x reader #james hook descendants #james hook x gn reader #James Hook #descendants 4 #rise of red x reader #Also I know Hook doesn’t really look tan but I described him as that because he’s a pirate so REALISTICALLY he would have a tan #descendants rise of red #my work

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