he's ur boyfriend? (tangerine x fem!reader)
warnings: short fic, fluff, banter, grumpy Γ sunshine, established relationship, pet names, language.
Everyone else thinks he's an asshole.
And they're not exactly wrong.
He'll grumble when you steal his chips, complain that you've somehow managed to make him late again, and sigh dramatically every time you drag him into a shop that doesn't sell suits or whiskey. His favorite way of saying "I love you" seems to be calling you a menace under his breath.
"You're lucky you're pretty," he mutters, holding three of your shopping bags despite insisting he wouldn't carry a single one.
"You've got all of them."
"Yeah, well... don't make a thing of it."
To everyone else, Tangerine is sharp edges and sarcastic remarks. A bloke who looks permanently inconvenienced by the existence of other people.
But they don't see the quiet things.
They don't see how he automatically walks on the side closest to traffic. How he wordlessly slips his suit jacket over your shoulders when you shiver. How he remembers exactly how you take your tea despite pretending he doesn't listen when you ramble.
They don't hear the almost sleepy, "C'mere, sweetheart," after you've had a rough day.
Or the way his thumb rubs absent circles on your thigh beneath the table while he's arguing with Lemon about something incredibly stupid.
And if anyone dares point out that he's gone soft?
Then, five minutes later, he's tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
"...Don't smile like that," he grumbles.
Lemon snorts from across the room.
"You carried her because she said her feet hurt."
"You also bought her flowers."
"And you called three pharmacies because she had a headache."
Tangerine pinches the bridge of his nose.
He rolls his eyes like you're the greatest inconvenience he's ever had.
But his hand never leaves yours.