Tangerine x baby sitter!fem!reader
Summary: A slightly suspicious baby-sitting gig? What could go wrong…
Genre: hurt and comfort and angst
Warnings: canon violence, violence against children/intended violence against children, swearing, swearing, blood, injuries, Tan and Lem have younger siblings/children, romantic tension
~ this is such a mess lmaooo, help. putting this on a schedule so I'm hoping it posts when I want it to 🤞 ~
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
The ad you'd seen online for a babysitter couldn't have been more unusual: No questions, agile, young, knows basic self-defense. You felt you were reading an ad for a call girl, or a MI6 agent, not a babysitter. Still, you'll blame your horrible financial situation and the generous pricing for the reason you took the job.
The autumn afternoon air is chilly as you make your way to the front of the apartment building and punch in the code from your phone. Walking up the stairs you admire the interior; it's lavish and expensive. Whomever it was that hired you must have a shit ton of money.
Maybe this really was some weird call girl ad? You think with a shiver but push through anyways. There's no way someone would be that twisted.
You read the number on the door and hold your breath, taking a moment to compose yourself. You know the kids are supposedly fourteen and six, so that means you have to look cool in two very different kind of ways. Great.
You're not sure you meet the expectation because when the door suddenly slams open and a tall, skinny looking girl with pin-straight blond hair stands in the doorway, she's instantly glaring at you.
Oh thank God the kids are real…
Suddenly, the girl shouts into the apartment. "The fuckin' babysitter is here, dimwits." Her cockney accent is strong and she blows pink gum into a bubble, popping it with her lips, and then raises her sleek, slitted, eyebrow at you. "Did ya find her at Disneyland or something—"
"Pack it up," a man says and practically face palms the girl as he gently pushes her away from the door. He turns and smiles at you. He's a tall man, with dark skin and platinum-blond coiled locks. He looks nothing like the girl. "Afternoon," he says and holds his hand. "Ignore Apricot, she can be quite the little snot. I'm Lemon." He extends his hand for you to shake.
You hesitantly shake his hand, deciding to ignore the weird names for now.
"Oh, so we'r goin' with the fruit names again? Tangerine is gonna be fuckin' happy," Apricot sneers and pulls out her phone, rolling her eyes so hard you're afraid she'll lose them behind her skull. Lemon clicks his tongue at the sight of her phone but she just ignores him.
You feel very awkward all of a sudden and that feeling only worsens when another man walks in. He's dressed in an expensive Armani suit, cufflicks half-button around his wrists. There is a tan-skinned little girl with messily curly hair hanging off his neck. The girl is small so the man can easily lift her by her foot and when he does, he tickles her stomach while his expression remains neutral.
"Oi, stop ya movin' for one second, will ya?" The man hums, the hint of a smile making his lips twitch. Finally, he turns the, now giggling girl, upright and carefully sets her on her feet. His gaze then raises and he seems to notice your presence. He squints for a second, blue eyes razor-sharp. He raises an eyebrow and looks confused until he looks at Lemon.
"Babysitter?"
Lemon nods, opening the door wider so you can walk inside. Albeit a bit reluctantly now, you do and realize that Apricot has disappeared somewhere in the apartment. The new man is still holding onto the girl's hand but with his other one, he offers to shake yours. You glance down and then take his hand, ignoring how calloused his palm is and how firm his grip is.
"Yes. I- we briefly spoke on the phone?" You question, glancing between the men to guess which one you had spoken with.
"Yes, Y/n, right? I remember—" The blue-eyed man starts but he's interrupted by his partner's hand on his shoulder. His hand involuntarily tightens on yours.
"This is Tangerine," Lemon grins. Tangerine looks at him momentarily before his face twists into the most ingenuine smile you've ever seen and he nods.
"Like the fruit," he adds for you, still smiling. His mustache twitches as his eyes crinkle.
You gulp.
"Pleasure," you say shakily and pull your hand away. You glance behind them. Their apartment is neat and spacious. Suddenly, you feel a small hand grip your pant leg and pull hesitantly. You glance down and see the little girl's big brown eyes staring up at you.
"Hi," she grins a toothy smile, her missing front teeth evident. "I'm–"
"Apple. This is Apple," Lemon interrupts and picks up the girl, lifting her up onto his shoulders. She laughs, nodding along. This time, you squint and clutch your bag harder.
"Alright, I wasn't going to say something but," you begin but the feeling of Tangerine's hand around your bag surprises you. You let him take it and watch with rounded eyes as he hangs it up on the coat stand and offers his hand again.
"Ya gonna stay in yer coat all night?" He asks judgementally and your question about their names is instantly forgotten as you embarrassingly remove your coat and hand it to Tangerine. Lemon beckons you inside the house, pulling your attention back to the job at hand. You glance down at the expensive flooring and slip off your shoes before following Lemon into the living room.
"Apple's bedtime is 7pm, Apricot's is 9pm but she kind of does whatever she wants– teenagers, y'know," Lemon chuckles and drops Apple on the couch where she finds one of her dolls and hugs it in her arms as she listens to Lemon, "They've had an early dinner, but there are snacks in the cupboard. Just don't touch the Jaffa Cakes, Tangerine will throw a fit."
"Watchu' wafflin' about?" Tangerine walks in, adjusting his cufflinks. He glares at Lemon and you nervously glance at them both. Lemon ignores him and continues;
"If you need to reach us, call the number you have. It's Tan's. He's better at answering his phone than I am."
"But, you won't need to. Nothin' ever happens," Tangerine adds, sending Lemon a pointed look. Apple is now hanging off the sofa's armrest, still happily playing with her doll, and Apricot is still gone. You're lost in thought for a moment and when you look, you realize that Lemon and Tangerine are staring at you expectantly.
"Oh, um, I- you guys have a lovely family," you stutter, hands nervously fiddling with the string of your hoodie, "You make a lovely couple." You finish, voice losing momentum as you see their expressions shift.
Lemon bursts into laughter, slapping his knee, and Tangerine's cheeks turn a little pink.
"We aren't a couple!" He says, sounding a little scandalized.
"We're brothers, but I see how you could have made that assumption–" Lemon chuckles, still recovering from his laughter. Tangerine grumbles something under his breath and briskly walks past you back into the entrance. Your stomach sinks as you frown.
Lemon walks closer, patting your shoulder reassuringly. "Don't mind 'im. He only took it badly because he thinks yer hot and doesn't want you thinkin' he's not into women," Lemon winks and your cheeks warm up instantly.
"Oi, shut up and hurry. We're already late." Tangerine calls.
Lemon shoots you another smile. "Good luck," he winks again and then turns towards Apple. He points at her, his gaze hardening playfully. "You. Be good. And, tell yer sister we'll be back soon. Muah!"
"Muah!" Apple shrieks, blowing him a kiss as she bounces on the sofa now.
You stand there a little shell-shocked as Lemon walks away and the front door eventually shuts.
At least this pays well, you repeat helplessly.
* * *
Apple and Apricot couldn't be more different. Apple is an unruly girl, her smile as wide as her eyes. Her hands are covered in multi-colored, cartoon, bandaids, most likely from minor injuries where she had fallen or bumped into things. You check the clock on the wall across from you and it reads; 6:30pm. Apple is jumping up and down, holding onto the couch cushions, as she talks over the actors in Nanny McPhee.
Apricot is mostly quiet. You glance at her, wondering if Apple's chattering is annoying her as it is you, but she is barely even watching the movie. Instead, she's curled up against the armrest, scrolling mindlessly on her phone, one airpod in her left ear. Her hair is pinned up by a fancy looking banana clip. Apart from making fun of you from time to time and scolding Apple, she hasn't said much.
You run your palms over your jeans, grounding yourself. It's only been two hours and you already wish Tangerine and Lemon would return. You gently tug on Apple's pjama shirt, causing her to fall back into a seating position. She giggles, unphased.
"Are you girls hungry?" You ask, talking louder over the sound of the movie.
"Yes!"
"No. She isn't hungry. She just wants the candy they hide in the upper cupboard," Apricot grumbles at the same time as Apple, which causes the little girl to huff and punch Apricot in the arm—hard.
"Hey!" You turn, reaching for her small hands to stop her, but instead Apricot smirks, barely flinching.
"I'll tell Tan your form is sloppy," Apricot teases, lowering her phone now. Your eyes widen. This is the first time Apricot has shown any interest in anything that was happening tonight. Apple shrieks, climbing onto her sister and pulling at her blond hair. Apple isn't even babbling anymore, she's just making small animalistic grunts as she throws sloppy slaps around. Apricot, being much stronger than her, just laughs.
You stand, panicking. If either of them gets hurt, you're pretty sure Lemon and Tangerine will kill you. They look scary. "Hey! No hitting! Girls, please—" You reach for Apple, wrapping your arms around her stomach and pulling her up and off Apricot.
"N-nugh–" Apple shrieks again, thrashing around as her temper rises.
However, the sound of a loud bang on the front door snaps the girls out of their argument and you whip your head around, holding your breath. Who could that be? Another loud bang and Apricot jumps into action. She grabs Apple from you and hugs her to her chest with one arm, reaching back and unclasping her banana clip. Her hair falls messily across her shoulders but what catches your attention is that when she flips open the clip, you see the blade of a knife and your eyes widen.
"Is that a knife?!" You ask, jumping at the third bang. Someone is breaking in!
"I knew they shouldn't have hired a fuckin' disney princess to watch us," Apricot snarls, "Yer useless. Just leave this to me." She holds Apple tighter and turns to her sister. "You're gonna hide like we practiced, right? You gonna be sneaky?"
Apple nods firmly, her little hands gripping Apricot's shirt. There's been a shift in the air and the girls are no longer bickering.
Practice?? Your head is spinning. The sound of the door crashing down and multiple bodies swarming into the room disarms whatever composure you had and you stumble back, hands shaking. You hold your breath, body pressed against the wall.
Is this why you needed self-defense classes?! No amount of self-defense classes could have prepared you for this!
There are three men and one woman. The men are burly and rugged looking, while the woman looks more composed. Her eyes are sharp as she looks around the room and then points her manicured hands at the girls.
"Grab them-" One of the men grunts, taking initiative. In a blur, Apple sprints into an opposite room and Apricot blocks their path. The woman tilts her head, a small smirk curling her lips. She snaps her fingers and two of the men rush towards Apricot. None of them seem to care that you're here or see you as a threat.
"You fuckin' arseholes!" Apricot screams, slashing one of the men's cheeks while the woman sits calmly on the armchair in the corner.
"Shut her up. How hard is it to get ahold of children?" She hisses at the men.
The men become harsher and because Apricot is only fourteen she's easily overpowered by one of them. They're being rough with her and something inside you shifts. You look around, grabbing the fire poker. Your hand wraps tentatively around the metal, preparing your stance. You feel nervous. It's four of them against you and a fourteen-year-old. Still, you lift the fire poker over your head and hit the closest man over his neck.
The pain disorients the man for a few seconds but your hit was not strong enough to knock him out. Shit, you think, eyes wide, and you stumble back, gripping the fire poker harder. The man looks furious and he grabs you by the throat, arm flexing. You gasp.
"Hey- leave 'er out of this! She's just a babysitter-" Apricot shouts, biting another man's hand until crimson liquid stains her teeth. She kicks another one in his ribs. Even if she's lost her banana claw weapon, she's putting up a better fight than you are. You hopelessly claw your hands over the man's hand on your throat. Shakily, you lift the fire poker, but you're not strong enough to hit anything as the man simply interjects your arm, twisting your wrist. You yelp in pain, the air getting stuck in your throat as you feel yourself becoming lightheaded.
"Where is the other one?" The woman asks, standing in front of Apricot now. "I don't have the patience to play hide and seek with that brat."
Apricot snarls and thrashes. She's caught as well but despite the situation, she refuses to stop fighting. "Fuck you," she spits, her saliva hitting the woman's eye. The man tightens his grip on her as punishment, but the woman just seems amused.
Your vision blurs from your tears as you struggle against the man choking you. The woman snaps her fingers again and that sends the only man not subduing you or Apricot to search for Apple. This sends Apricot into a frenzy as she screams. The woman doesn't seem to care and she turns around, catching your hazy gaze.
"Kill her. We don't want any witnesses."
At her words the hand around your throat tightens and your airways are cut off.
"Oi," you hear in the distance, the sound sounding like it's underwater. In a blur, you're dropped and you crash against the floor. Your knees hurt from the impact and you hear loud gunshots.
Instinctively, you cover your ears and squeeze your eyes shut. You feel smaller hands grip your shoulders and Apricot's voice is muffled as she tries to shake you. You can't move or even register what is happening.
"OI-" That voice again and this time, calloused hands grip your cheeks and lift your head. Your eyes snap open and you see Tangerine. His blue eyes are wide and there is blood splattered across his nose and cheek. "Hey, hey, hey," he mutters, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. "You're safe."
Your body is buzzing as you lean against him. You can hear his heartbeat directly against your ear and your eyes fill with tears as the adrenaline slowly fades. Tangerine is speaking to Apricot and you feel his arm move from you to where her hand is. His voice sounds rushed and worried. You're feeling lightheaded and your eyes slowly close.
* * *
When you wake, your throat is dry. You're laying across the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "She's awake!" You feel small hands pawing at your arm, urging you to sit up.
"Don't shout," Tangerine says roughly and hearing his voice, you sit up. Your eyes are blown wide as you take in the scene. Apple is standing beside you, her little hand grasping at your forearm, while Tangerine sits in the armchair across from you, his head in his hands.
He's not looking at you and he looks exhausted. You notice that his knuckles are stained red and a shiver runs up your spine. You turn your head and see that, in the kitchen, Lemon is tending to the wounds on Apricot's face and arms. She's laughing, her eyes lighting up.
"W-what–" You turn your head, surprised to see that Tangerine is looking at you now. You close your mouth, lips thinning into a line. Your head is throbbing and what has happened is a blur.
You stand angrily, looking down at your bandaged wrist, which you had just noticed and ask, "What happened? Who were those people? Why did–" You sound much less threatening than you'd anticipated because your throat is still hoarse and your body is weak from exhaustion. You feel strong hands grasp your waist, keep you upright, and as your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself, your eyes lock onto his.
"This shouldn't have happened," Tangerine voice sounds so unemotional you feel like throwing up. Apple is the quietest she's ever been as she watches you both, her tiny eyes darting from him to you. "I'm sorry."
His hands leave your body and you crumble back onto the couch, holding your head. Nothing makes sense. Sobs take over and you hunch in on yourself, your hand sliding over the skin of your throat where there is still a throbbing pain. You tune out everyone else, unsure how to continue or what to even say. No amount of money can make this better.
Which is why, when Lemon and Tangerine sit across from you at the kitchen table, your cup of tea untouched and cold, and slide over a thick stack of money, you can't bring yourself to take it.
"You deserve it, you kept them safe," Lemon says calmly.
"Safe? Safe from what? I don't even understand what just happened and you expect me to take this money and just pretend today never happened?!" You snap, hands trembling under the table and no matter how hand you squeeze them between your knees, they won't stop shaking. The pain from your wrist is a good distraction however.
Tangerine and Lemon exchange a look.
"It's better for everyone this way." Tangerine says it with a finality that makes you feel like screaming.
"Can't you give me an explanation?!" You ask, your voice sounding pathetically close to a plea. You glance between them; Lemon's nose looks broken and even bandaged up, it looks horrible as blood seeps through the material. Tangerine has a black eye and with his hand resting in front of him, his knuckles are visible and very clearly messed up. "Anything? Are the girls going to be okay? I- I just, I don't understand anything that happened. All the secrecy with your names and- those people who broke in-"
Lemon and Tangerine look at each other again. They seem to speak with their eyes and the longer you sit there in silence, the more you feel like throwing up. Finally, Lemon turns to look at you and says, "We're sorry. Here," he slides the money further, "Tangerine will see you out."
"Pardon?"
"You will," Lemon sends his brother a dirty look and stands. "I'm gonna check on the girls."
When Lemon leaves, only the two of you are left, and you feel like sobbing. You stare at the table, forcing yourself not to cry in front of him. Tangerine clears his throat, obviously aware that you're feeling emotional. He taps the table. "Just take the money. Please."
Reluctantly, you take the cash. You feel like a scolded child as Tangerine walks you in silence towards your coat and shoes. You take your coat from him and finally you look up. When you do, Tangerine sees the bruises on your neck clearly and he inhales sharply. Something stings in his chest.
"Is this it, then?"
Tangerine forces his face to remain neutral and he shrugs. You let out a shaky breath, lowering your head as you hold your coat closer to your stomach. He doesn't seem willing to budge. "And if I call the police?"
That gets his attention and his expression twists. It's instinct but in a swift motion, he pushes you against the wall and presses his forearm against your neck. The gesture causes you to wince in pain and immediately Tangerine drops his arm. He seems shocked by his own violent outburst. "Sorry. I- I just can't have ya callin' the police."
You stay pressed against the wall, your bodies close to one another. You look up at him. You know you should feel afraid of him, but for some reason you don't. You don't think he would actually purposefully harm you. "Will you kill me if I do?"
You see his Adam's apple bob and his eyes narrow. "Perferably before you do," he says bluntly and even though it's not a joke, you laugh. Your hands tremble as you cover your mouth, laughing. Seeing this, Tangerine takes a step away and he curses under his breath.
"You're shaken up," he states, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, no one will hurt ya if you cooperate. Just, take the money and forget this ever happened."
When you lower your hand from your face, tears have fallen down your cheeks and Tangerine has never felt more like a dick than now. He shouldn't have left. That job should have waited until he and Lemon knew Apple and Apricot were safe. You never should have been hired. What were they thinking? You are just some girl. Something inside him twists and he moves closer, wiping a tear with his thumb.
He always hates it when one of the girls cries, but seeing you in tears feels just as horrible. Which makes no sense. He just met you. And yet, here he is, wiping away your tears.
You freeze at his touch and he moves away again.
He doesn't say anything until the front door has closed behind you. He leans his forehead on the door, fist clenched against the wood. Fuck, he thinks as the image of your face stays in his mind on a loop. How fuckin' pathetic, he concludes, pushing down any feelings he has in fear of them growing. He reaches for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until his thumb hovering over your number.
He needs to delete it. He should delete it.
But, he can't bring himself to press the button.
Outside the door, you're also staring at his number saved in your phone. Your throat hurts and tears are still slipping down your cheeks. The memory of his arms wrapped around you, his protective warmth, and the scent of his cologne, lingers and you can't bring yourself to delete the contact either.
Some part of you wishes he'll call one day, hopefully with a better explanation…
