Summary: Rival assassins! You run into Tangerine at the tail-end of a job gone wrong.
Wordcount: 1.5k
Warnings: blood, violence, language, sexual suggestions (no smut, at least not yet), choking
A/N: I don't know if this is a one-shot or possibility of a bigger story, but I couldn't get this scene out of my head and I knew it would be fun to write! I LOVE rival assassin Tangerine fics, but I really wanted to feel like they would actually kill each other and kind of highlight the unhealthiness of what a 'situationship' in that world might actually look like. Basically if you shipped Obi-Wan/Ventress back in the day, you know the vibes.
Recommended listening: Killshot by Magdalena Bay, I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Maneskin
An explosion runs into your jaw. Or, at least, it feels that way for the split second before your vision goes black from the impact and careens back to reality as your head is slammed against the wall behind you.
Fuzzy black edges are creeping in around the periphery of your vision as you struggle to catch your breath. Some hair from your updo has given up staying in place and falls into your face. You blink a few times to clear your vision and catch the glint of brass on the knuckles that are swinging toward your face.
Of fucking course, he’s here. There’s enough blood pooled in your mouth from that hit that it takes minimal effort to expel a bloody gob of spit into his face. He stops short of a follow-up punch and pins his arm against your chest to hold you in place instead.
“Tangerine!” You exclaim, sounding just like you were so pleased to run into an old friend at the supermarket. “Fancy seeing you here!”
To his credit, he didn’t flinch, but he looks pissed. He wastes no pleasantries, his hand shooting out to grab your free wrist and pinning it back against the wall. “Looking for something?”
The knife you had been reaching for in your thigh holster gleams menacingly in his hand. He spins it around on the butterfly axis, holding the blade against your throat. You’re annoyed he knows your playbook so well, but you chuckle anyway, amused.
You give up the pretense of fighting back, opting to roll your body against his - bringing your hips flush together as you arch your neck away from the knife. You let out a breathy whimper - merely catching your breath, of course -
You don’t miss the way he swallows, the way his eyes darken in a flash, that little tic between his eyebrows that jumps when he gets riled up. His grip tightens, and you know there will be a bracelet of bruises on your wrist from the crushing pressure. It’s just too easy.
“You look like a right tart in that get-up, love - didya lose a bet?” He looks you up and down, taking the moment to pretend to think. “Or…you must be here to honeypot that jackass upstairs, hmm? Musta been too difficult for you to get to him directly, I suppose.”
Your amused expression drops - he’s insulting your skills and your outfit, cheap shots. He must be having a bad night, too.
You keep your bodies flush together as you lean in close, ignoring the slicing sting of the blade as it presses against your neck. You lick your lips, take a breath, taking all the time in the world as if you’re about to tell him just what he most wants to hear. You can feel the held breath, feel his grip loosen a fraction on the knife, and you smile as you whisper -
“Where’s Lemon?”
His eyes dart up to the ceiling for a split second and you grin, all sharp teeth. It’s the opening you wanted.
You slam your knee up into his groin with all of your strength. There’s a satisfying crunch of connection and his grip on you slackens as he groans loudly. You’re already inside his space, and it’s easy work to break his hold on your knife and to slash out at the arm boxing you in.
“Fuckin’ Christ!” Tangerine exclaims, eyes screwed up in pain even as he’s still valiantly trying to hold you off and keep you pinned.
Your wild slashing manages to cut across his arm, the blood arcing out across his shirt and your face and he roars, surging forward and pinning you to the wall by the throat. He slams your arm against the wall as hard as he can and the blade drops as you can’t hold your grip. If the crunch you felt in your wrist is any indication, something’s broken.
“Where is Lemon?!” He roars at you at the top of his lungs, spit flying and mingling with the blood and sweat smearing across his face. His hair is a riot of curls, and his chest is heaving with the effort he’s exerting to hold you in place.
His grip is iron-vice and you feel the hammer of your heart in your throat, the slam of it against your ribcage. Your breath flutters in his fist and the dark spots are reappearing at the edges of your vision. You are regretting using Lemon to get a reaction, in hindsight.
Your feet slide against the wall as you struggle, your hands coming up try to pry his grip loose by any fraction of an inch that you can. It’s like trying to move stone. But you knew, you only needed to buy some time. You manage to crack a smile, spluttering out a regretful chuckle as you realize-
“Upstairs, I bet.”
There’s a loud boom from above you both, the ceiling and walls shaking before the lights in the hallway immediately cut off. You take his moment of shock to make a final effort to free yourself and dig your nails into the slash you’d made across his arm a minute ago. He roars through clenched teeth as he tries to bear it and keep choking you but you rake your acrylics through his wound and he yells and hurls you down the hallway.
You fall several feet back, slumped across the floor, wheezing and coughing. You glance back to see Tangerine lumbering towards you, the look in his eyes absolutely crazed. You have really pissed him the fuck off, this time, you think as you try to scramble backwards.
You both freeze, though, hearing shouts coming from all directions now, mixing with the blaring of the fire alarm. You and Tangerine look at each other in the dark hallway for a charged heartbeat.
“That was supposed to be my escape distraction.” You manage to croak out the admonishment, taking the moment of respite to awkwardly clamber to your feet. You hold your broken wrist to your chest and tilt your head toward the far window - where you had originally been running when somebody clotheslined you into a wall.
You step over to the window, noting that Tangerine has swapped his brass knuckles for his gun. You roll your eyes, sliding the window open to reveal a rope ladder already tied to the sill and hanging down. “Hurry the fuck up, you absolute prick.” You hiss at him in a hoarse whisper, already swinging a leg out and over the windowsill.
He closes the distance between you two in a second, grabbing onto your hurt wrist and squeezing. You freeze with a gasp, glaring into his eyes. You have never seen him like this. He holds the mouth of the gun to your temple, unwavering.
“If Lemon was hurt in that explosion-” His voice is steady and slow. Scarier, even, than when he roars and raves at you. “-You will regret it.”
“Relax, Tan.” You match his tempo, keeping the same unflinching energy even with a gun to your head. “It was just a little thing to knock out the power - even if Lemon was in the same room when it went off, he’d barely notice. I didn’t know it was Lemon following me, I could’ve left him some guards to kill.”
Tangerine growls in response, only half-satisfied with your answer. You know he won’t calm fully until he can see Lemon for himself. You lick your lips, decide to try your luck.
“I am sorry - it’s just business, you know that.” Your head tilts in toward his and you feel the barrel of the gun move away from your temple. Your eyes close in relief and anticipation, waiting for Tangerine’s lips to brush yours.
You feel the steel of the gun push into your side and Tangerine mutters next to your lips. “Get us outta here, love, and I won’t kill you. That’s business.”
Your eyes open to stare into his, though neither of you move an inch. Your options are few, and none of them are very good. This job was done, and as long as you don’t get caught, you can get paid. But to not get caught now, you need the Twins. You must have stolen this contract from under them, so they’ll want the money. There was no way to escape with all the money, and live.
You break the moment by leaning all the way in, and planting a chaste kiss on his bloody, sweaty cheek. “Let’s go, we’ll pick up Lemon on the way.”
You give him a cheeky grin, and he lets you go with narrowed eyes and a distrustful expression. You slip down the rope ladder with your one good arm, scanning each floor of windows while descending for familiar blonde curls.
that sounds so so good, I'm really looking forward to that fic ahhh, i'm so excited!! how long will it approximately be? :)
It’ll probably be a while, I’d like to have it finished before I start posting and I’m not sure how I wan’t current canon to effect it! I currently have it mapped out/outlined to the climax, so about 8 chapters right now. It’ll probably be 10/11 when it’s done.
I’ve never really done a multichapter before, I’m used to writing one shots so it’s gonna take a little longer than my usual stuff. But I hope it’ll be worth it and that people will enjoy it even with the wait.
do you still write the "jake survived and is on the ground" au? :) is it gonna be a kabby fic? I love your fanfics!!!
yES!!!! I am definitely still writing it! it’s 100% gonna be kabby centric, but I like playing with jake and having him mix things up for both of them. I have most of it mapped out, and the first chapter and a half written. I’ve been a little overwhelmed lately and haven’t gotten to work on it much but I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last couple days so I really enjoy that you popped in here WHAT GOOD TIMING! DO YOU WANT A SNEAK PEEK?
I’ll give you something from the outline because I’m reworking some of the stuff I’ve already written and I’ve got a better picture of stuff that’s just in the outline right now. This is from what is currently the beginning of chapter four, and in my head this whole sequence is set to “give me love” by ed sheeran.
Raven, Bellamy, and Marcus make it home. Abby and Octavia run to greet them. Hugs, so many hugs for everyone. But especially Abby and Marcus.
Abby and Marcus sleep together again, because reunion sex is good sex.
when they’re finally alone together the day he gets back she says something about shaving his beard and she sits accross his lap to do it, but he convinces her not to by burrying his face between her breasts.
while they’re having some truly great sex, jake and clarke are riding fast on horses to come back.
