spookyspecterino - Tumblr blog

spookyspecterino · 6 days

Text

You're the Cream in My Coffee

author's note: i love this fear-crazy man as much as i love coffee! 🥹 i can't imagine him drinking straight-up black coffee despite his personality because i imagine that he so secretly has a slight sweet tooth but in a refined crane kind of way - like with sweet cold foam or milk. anyway, please enjoy you guys!

It was a quiet morning at Arkham. As you made your way to your office, you couldn't help but glance with curiosity down the hall towards Dr. Jonathan Crane's door. The reserved but brilliant fellow psychologist was often the first one in the building, working tirelessly on his research and case files.

You had always admired Jonathan's sharp wit and keen intellect. Most of your colleagues steered clear of him as they found him distant and aloof. Nevertheless, he had always shown you polite courtesy. There was something about his dry sense of humor and the way his sharp blue eyes would crinkle slightly when he was amused that had captured your attention.

On this particular morning, you had woken up exceptionally early to lend a visit to your favorite coffee shop. And as you were ordering your usual drink, you thought of Dr. Crane and how hardworking he was. You had noted the dark circles that were often under his eyes and how he was usually the last to leave Arkham for the day. He looked thinner every time you saw him and you wondered if he was even eating. Before you could even process your actions, you had ordered another coffee, picking one on a whim based off of Jonathan's taste: a dark roast with hints of cinnamon and a dash of cream.

And how did you know he would like it? Well, you couldn't be blamed if you had noticed him once or twice in the staff room - on the rare occasion that he ventured out of his office to reluctantly grab the hospital's rat-poison-flavored coffee. You'd noticed the way he would wrinkle his nose in distaste at the acrid, burnt flavor of the breakroom coffee, quickly sprinkling a dash of cinnamon from a small tin he kept in his pocket to improve the taste.

It was those small details - the way he would linger over each sip, savoring the subtle warmth and spice - that had given you insight into his refined palate. And when you had the chance to bring him his morning coffee, you knew you had to do something special, something that would truly please him.

You thought he deserved something nice. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Jonathan, knowing that your colleagues often spoke unkindly of him behind his back. The other psychologists at Arkham would whisper and snicker, casting judgmental glances in his direction as he hurried through the halls, his brow furrowed in concentration.

It saddened you to see the way they dismissed him, writing him off as nothing more than a cold, calculating eccentric. If only they could see the subtle nuances of his character, the flashes of dry wit and intellectual curiosity that you had come to admire.

You suspected that Jonathan was a deeply lonely man, so consumed by his work and his research that he had allowed the barriers around his heart to harden over time. And you couldn't help but wonder if, deep down, he craved the kind of genuine connection and understanding that so many of his peers seemed to take for granted.

That's why you had put so much thought into selecting the perfect coffee for him. You wanted him to know that there was at least one person at Arkham who saw him as more than just an oddity, more than just a means to an end. You wanted him to feel appreciated, to know that someone truly cared.

As you made your way to Jonathan's office, mug in hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. It wasn't exactly typical for a colleague to be bringing another coffee, especially one as reserved and enigmatic as Dr. Jonathan Crane. You knew you'd have to have a good excuse ready if he questioned your gesture.

Thankfully, inspiration struck as you neared his door. Earlier that morning, you had noticed the coffee maker in the staff break room was acting up again, only producing a weak, watered-down brew. Jonathan, being the devoted workaholic that he was, had likely missed his usual morning cup in his rush to get an early start.

You knocked on his office door, which was slightly ajar, "Good morning, Dr. Crane."

Jonathan looked up with brief surprise crossing his face, his eyebrows raised, before he quickly schooled his features into a more neutral and collected expression. He greeted you, his voice low and slightly raspy from lack of sleep, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You offered him the coffee, feeling a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. "I- um... The coffee machine has been acting up lately, so I brought you a fresh cup. It's probably better than the dreadful coffee they offer here anyway. I hope that's alright."

Jonathan eyed the mug skeptically, but after a moment's hesitation, he reached out and took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. "That's...very kind of you," he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied the contents of the cup.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the brief contact, but you tried your best to maintain a casual demeanor. "I know how important that first cup of coffee is, especially for someone as dedicated as you," you replied, offering him a small, hopefully reassuring smile.

His piercing blue eyes studied you for a moment, and you couldn't help but feel as though he was trying to read your thoughts.

You held your breath as Jonathan took a cautious sip, his gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, the silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft sound of rain tapping against the windowpane.

Then, to your relief and delight, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips. "It's...quite good," he admitted, his tone almost surprised.

A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words. You had hoped he would enjoy it, but hearing his genuine approval was more than you could have asked for.

"I'm glad you like it," you replied, unable to contain the smile that spread across your face. "I know it's not much, but I thought you deserved something better than the usual."

Jonathan's eyes softened as he met your gaze, a flicker of gratitude shining in their depths. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.

With a nod of acknowledgment, you turned to leave, feeling a wave of accomplishment wash over you. You sensed that this would be the beginning of many more interactions with Jonathan Crane.

Over the next few weeks, it became routine for you to bring Jonathan his favorite coffee whenever you could, even if it meant waking up a bit earlier to make it to work. It was worth it to see a lovely smile grace his face, his entire lighting up youthfully. Gradually, the two of you began to exchange brief conversations in the hallway or during breaks.

You learned more about Jonathan than you ever imagined you would. He shared stories of his childhood - some being precious and others proving more saddening. He spoke about his love for literature and philosophy and his interest in the intricacies of the human mind. You found yourself drawn to his sharp intellect and dry wit.

Some of his casual sarcastic remarks and mutterings to himself had you practically crying with laughter, causing your colleagues to stare at you as if you were a madwoman if they happened to be nearby. After discovering how easily he could make you laugh, Jonathan began using your weakness to your advantage and making you giggle in the most serious of situations.

He had such a surprising humor to him that had only come out by spending more time with him the softness that peeked through his carefully composed exterior. You noticed other things about him too - little details that slowly painted a fuller picture of who Jonathan truly was. The manner in which his eyes would light up with a rare, genuine passion as he discussed the latest developments in psychology. The subtle way his hands would run unusually cold, a telltale sign of his underlying tension and nervousness. The habit of running his fingers through his dark hair when he was deep in thought, brow furrowed in concentration.

And then, of course, there were the moments of softness, the flashes of vulnerability that would occasionally peek through the carefully composed exterior he presented to the world. The slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he was truly amused by one of your witty exchanges. The gentle tone that would creep into his voice when he spoke of his favorite books or theories. It was in those unguarded instants that you caught glimpses of who the man truly was.

And there were moments when you began to realize that your fascination with him wasn't one-sided. Jonathan too asked about you and your life. He chuckled at your embarrassing stories and frowned when you mentioned the rougher parts of your childhood. He had an aptitude for listening and for giving sound advice, which made you realize just how incredible he was at what he did for a living.

But something more began to grow between the two of you. You felt an undeniable pull towards him that had only grown since that first step, that first cup of coffee. And sometimes, you felt the heaviness of his gaze mixed with an indescribable emotion. Whatever feeling it was behind his eyes - well, you wanted him to stare at you like that forever.

You had grown accustomed to the quiet camaraderie that had developed between you and Jonathan over the past few weeks. Your daily coffee deliveries had become a cherished ritual, and the easy banter you shared had slowly chipped away at the icy facade he so often presented to the world.

But today, as you made your way through the halls of Arkham, you couldn't help but overhear a hushed conversation between a few of your colleagues. Their words, laced with barely concealed disdain, filled you with unease.

"Can you believe that she brings Crane coffee every morning?" one of them scoffed. "As if he's not weird enough already."

Another chimed in, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Yeah, and have you noticed how much time she's been spending with him lately? Probably trying to whore herself off to get a promotion."

You felt your cheeks flush with hurt and embarrassment, your heart sinking. Was that really what they all thought of you? That you were simply using Jonathan for your own personal gain? That you weren't genuine about your desire for his friendship?

The discussion continued, the gossip growing more and more vicious until you couldn't bear it anymore. You felt tears creeping out of your eyes as you stalked down the halls and back to your office, avoiding every glance that came your way. You shut the door behind you, making your way directly to the small couch in your office and pulling a soft blanket around your trembling shoulders as the tears finally spilled over. The cruel words of your colleagues kept echoing in your mind, each barb cutting deeper than the last.

How could these colleagues of yours, who had faked their pleasantries with you and occasionally even asked you about your day, be so two-faced? How could they think so little of you? Of the genuine friendship you had forged with Jonathan? The time you had spent getting to know him, the way your heart raced whenever he fixed you with that piercing gaze - it was all so much more than some cheap ploy for favor or advancement.

You cared for Jonathan, more than you knew how to express. The warmth of his smile, the subtle softness that would sometimes peek through his carefully crafted facade - it had all wormed its way deep into your heart. And the thought of anyone diminishing those precious moments you shared cut you to the core.

As you sat there, your vision blurred by tears, you didn't hear the familiar knock at your door. It wasn't until you sensed a presence beside you that you looked up, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of Jonathan wearing a concerned expression.

"My dear, what's wrong?" he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he moved to sit beside you.

You couldn’t find the strength in you to respond, tears continuing to streak down your cheeks. Something in Jonathan's heart broke for you, and he placed a gentle arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.

"It's alright." He spoke in a soothing, gentle tone, his fingertips lightly stroking your arm in a comforting gesture, "I'm here."

Jonathan waited for your sobs to subside and then carefully cradled your face, using his thumb to wipe away the remaining tears, "Tell me, what happened?" His brow furrowed with concern as he searched your face, waiting for you to find the right words.

Your breath was shaky, gaze falling as you recounted the gossip you had heard, "I-I was bringing you coffee - you know, like usual. But then I heard some of the others talking and..." You paused and Jonathan's expression darkened as he listened, his jaw tightening with barely contained anger.

"Some of the others talking, saying such horrible things. About how I'm only doing it to try and get ahead, that I'm..." Anger took over you as you utter the last part, "whoring myself off."

Jonathan practically gritted his teeth in anger at that. It was one thing for him to have to deal with the constant remarks and bullying in his life. By now, he was used to it - until that changed when he met you. But for you to be dragged into this, to be treated so horribly. He wouldn't stand for it.

"My dear, why on Earth would you put yourself through this for my sake?" His piercing blue eyes studied you intently, a hint of exasperation in his tone, "After all, I'm hardly worth the trouble, am I?" There was a self-deprecating edge to his words, like he truly believed he wasn't worth the effort.

Jonathan sighed, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features, "You shouldn't have to defend me, nor should you have to endure the cruelty of our colleagues. I'm quite accustomed to their...less than pleasant opinions of me." A wry, humorless smile tuggeed at the corners of his lips.

He pauses, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he meets your confused gaze. You didn't understand how he failed to see how incredible he actually was. You hesitated, murmuring, "They're wrong, you know. You're a wonderful friend and they just don't see that."

Jonathan's eyes widened but he hid his surprise with a soft smile, "Oh? Well I'm truly touched. I find your unwavering loyalty quite endearing."

You blushed as his expression turned impish, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, scrutinizing your words, "And friends, you say?"

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I...I consider you my closest friend here, Jonathan." The admission slipped out before you could stop it, and you suddenly felt caught.

Jonathan's expression turned thoughtful, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Is that so?" He paused, his piercing gaze studying you intently. "Then how do you explain the time you fell asleep on my shoulder in my office?" His tone was lightly teasing, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Or that time we shared a cup of coffee, our lips mere inches apart?"

Your face reddened more and more as you tried to figure out a response. "T-that was just...I mean, it was only once! And the coffee, I just...I wanted to make sure you got the right order, that's all!"

Jonathan chuckled, clearly delighted by your flustered state. "Hmm, I see. And what about the fact that you knew exactly how I take my coffee from the very start? Cinnamon and all?" His fingers graze your cheek, leaving you to only want more of his touch. "Surely that goes beyond the realm of mere friendship, don't you think?"

He leaned in even closer, tilting his head with mock admonishment, his gaze flicking down to your lips for the briefest of moments. "And let's not forget that time I caught you...unbeknownst to you, of course...staring at my..."

You can't help but cut him off, your heart racing. "Alright, alright! I admit it, Jonathan. I...I've developed feelings for you. More than just friendship." You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable. He noticed the fear on your face, which he would have taken pleasure in if you weren't you.

Jonathan's expression softened, and he reached out to gently tilt your chin up, meeting your eyes. "My dear, I don't doubt the sincerity of your affection." His voice was low and intimate. "And frankly, I'm quite flattered." He leaned in, his breath ghosting across your lips. "So tell me, is it still 'just friends' you want?"

"No?"

A subtle smile made its way onto his lips, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest. "Is that a question?" His thumb traced the outline of your mouth.

"No. I mean - yes. Argh, I-"

He chuckled at your struggle to speak, his lips grazing your ear as he murmured, "Am I making you nervous?"

You narrowed your eyes at him briefly, aware that he was taunting you, and whispered, "Yes." You didn't think you'd ever been this close to Jonathan. You noticed that his eyes have grey specks in them.

"Hm. Well, then...Tell me what it is that you truly want?"

The intensity of his gaze was almost overwhelming, making it difficult for you to think clearly. You found yourself captivated by the depth of emotion within his eyes.

"I want..." You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours and lips millimeters apart. Jonathan leaned back ever so slightly upon your pause. He was teasing you, eager for you to work for his touch. His hand moved down to trace the edge of your collarbone, giving you chills.

His pupils darkening, he murmured, "Say it."

You notice the bare anticipation and hunger in his gaze, but he also still had that same mischief about him. Unable to hold back your desire, you whispered, "I want you, Jonathan." Your voice was laced with a quiet intensity. "Your mind, your touch, your affection. All of you."

The words set off a proper reaction in him, and in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss.

You gasped softly, the sensation of his mouth moving hungrily against yours setting your nerves on fire. Without breaking the kiss, Jonathan gently guided you backward, and you sunk down onto the couch as he hovered over you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other keeping him upright.

In the halls, you had always noticed the musk of his cologne and the distinct smell of the spice he craved so dearly. Naturally, he tasted like cinnamon and his kiss was sweeter than you could have ever imagined.

He bit your lip and you allowed his tongue entrance into your mouth. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him.

As you pulled his hips closer to yours, you could feel a hardness press on you. Jonathan groaned as you moved against him. You could stay like this forever, under him as he kissed you senselessly.

Eventually, you parted, both of you breathless and flushed. Jonathan gazed down at you, his eyes dark with desire. His thumb brushed against your swollen lips, a blazing look in his eyes.

"You truly are a marvel, my dear. Ignore what nonsense anyone else says," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. He dips his head, nuzzling against your neck, his lips trailing featherlight kisses along your skin. "You are the cream in my coffee. You make my life sweeter. I hope to only bring you that same joy."

You softened immensely at his words. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he continued his gentle assault, intent on exploring every possible inch of you, his keen eyes noticed your little reactions to his touch. And you didn't mind one bit. You craved him. To think this had all simply started with a sweet cup of coffee...

@kpopgirlbtssvt @kiss-me-cill-me @mothhball hope you guys enjoy!

#Oh this was what I needed #Thank you #He's so sweet in this and I love him #The tenderness!!#AHHHH #<3 <3 <3 #Dr. Jonathan Crane

197 notes · View notes

spookyspecterino · 15 days

Note

Omg imagine a very innocent, civilian Y/n being on the Bullet Train, in Japan with her friends for a girls’ trip. So y/n and her friends are on the train when all the craziness happens with the train-full of assassins. When the other civilians start clearing out of the train out of fear (because there are assassins running all over the place), Y/n is tipsy and doesn’t notice the commotion, and her “friends” just leave her there to flee the train (not the best friends 😬) so when Tangerine (who doesn’t die!!) and Lemon come running by, they see a very tipsy Y/n sitting there and they’re like, “What’re you doing here??” and she just giggles which has them like, “…” She flirts with Tangerine (lmao) as he takes care of her and saves her life, and once she realizes the danger she’s actually in, the poor girl is terrified! Also when they’re all safe, Tangerine and Lemon would be so angry that her friends all just left her there

@kpopgirlbtssvt love this idea! you have the best requests! i had such fun writing this - it's much longer than i originally planned but i wanted to do it justice! i hope i succeeded! 🥺❤️

The bullet train hurtled through the Japanese countryside, the rhythmic click-clack of the tracks beneath you providing a soothing backdrop to the excited chatter of your friends. The anticipation of your girls' trip to Japan had filled you with a bubbling sense of adventure, and as you settled into your seat, you couldn't wait to explore everything the country had to offer.

The journey started on a high note, with laughter and animated conversation flowing freely as you and your three other friends shared stories and sipped on cocktails. Sure, your friend Rebecca went on and on about her rich husband, his job, and all of their fancy cars. And sure, Cara kept interrupting everyone with her latest drama about her boyfriend, but overall, you were having a great time. The atmosphere was electric, and you found yourself getting caught up in the infectious excitement of the moment. You might have been a bit tipsy, but you thought that even you deserved a break sometimes, and besides, you were around friends who you could trust. They would look out for you, or so you thought.

You were happy to have taken time off from work to come on this trip. You rarely took vacations even though you loved traveling. Perhaps it was because you didn't usually have anyone to spend time with. And sure, you had people you could consider your friends, but sometimes you wished that you could discuss things other than clothing, men, and gossip. You wanted to talk about the latest books you were reading and the movie you had just seen the other day. But, you couldnt' change your friends. Admittedly, they had been there for you. Cara had been there for you when you had first gotten drunk, and Elise practically wheeled you to her hairdresser after you got a bad haircut.

When your friends' conversations started to lull, you began observing the train carriage. You had noticed a blonde man in a bucket hat walk in and out of the carriage more times than you would have liked because he was quite frankly making you dizzy from all of his movement. The first time you noticed him, though, he was carrying a briefcase with some kind of sticker on the handle. Cara stopped mid-way in her sentence while she was discussing a celebrity's latest affair to side-eye the blonde man, who seemed to be muttering to himself about some guy named Barry.

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when a tall man in a blue suit caught your eye as he made his way through the carriage. His presence was commanding, his strides purposeful as he navigated through the crowded aisles. His brunette hair was neatly styled with gel, and his features exuded an air of confidence. He wore gold rings on his fingers, which he twisted with poorly concealed frustration.

Your friends, ever perceptive to your reactions, quickly noticed your awestruck expression and exchanged knowing glances. Rebecca nudged you with her elbow, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Looks like someone's got a crush," she teased, eliciting giggles from the others.

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you attempted to deflect their teasing, but it was no use. Elise joined in with a playful smirk, "Oh, I see how it is. Falling for the mysterious stranger, are we?"

Before you could respond, the man approached your group, his eyes scanning the carriage with a determined expression. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach as he drew nearer, his piercing gaze meeting yours briefly before he addressed the group.

"Excuse me, ladies. Have any of you seen a man with a silver briefcase running through here? " he asked politely, his voice smooth and reassuring.

Your heart skipped a beat as you struggled to form a coherent response. He was British, and all your friends knew how you felt about British men. Rebecca was quick to speak up, her tone teasing. "Why, are you looking for a secret agent or something?"

The man chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Something like that," he replied with a cryptic smile.

You managed to regain your composure long enough to point him in the direction he needed to go, "I believe a blonde man in a bucket hat had it. He went that way."

He looks at you with gratitude yet frustration and something else that you can't quite decipher, "Thank you, love."

Then, he stalks away, muttering, "That fucking bastard."

Your friends exchanged amused looks once more, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he walked away. You felt as if there was something special about the mysterious stranger who had captured your attention. Little did you know that things were about to get a whole lot messier.

It started with the snake. You thought you were hallucinating when you saw it and realized that maybe you had had too much to drink. But no, your friends saw it too.

A hushed whisper had rippled through the carriage as passengers exchanged worried glances, and you had felt a chill run down your spine. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Then, you saw it – a snake slithering its way through the crowd, its presence sending a wave of panic through the carriage. You blinked in disbelief, wondering if you were imagining things, but the terrified screams of your fellow passengers confirmed that the danger was all too real.

Amidst the chaos, you caught sight of your friends, their faces pale with fear as they struggled to make sense of the situation. Panic set in as the snake moved closer, its venomous gaze fixed on its prey.

Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the air, and you turned to see a passenger clutching their face in agony, blood streaming from their eyes. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks – the snake was poisonous, and its venom was deadly.

In a frenzy of panic, you lost sight of your friends. Where had they gone? They had been right here? Apparently, your friends had made a split-second decision, abandoning each other to get off the train and save themselves. In disbelief, you observed their empty seats and attempted to stand only to feel a spell of dizziness, so you sat back down. You could only hope that the snake wouldn't come across you as its next victim.

Your friends and the snake slithered away the carriage was now empty, and so, the only thing you could think to do was to drink some more and fall into a deep sleep, hopeful that you would wake up in Kyoto.

This mission was unraveling more and more by the second. Tangerine had found Lemon unconscious, knocked out by some kind of drug. Tangerine had managed to wake him up but not without getting a slap to the face.

Now, Lemon was going on and on about a Diesel who had managed to shoot him in the chest. Luckily, Lemon had his bulletproof vest on, contrary to denying it previously. Never had Tangerine been so thankful for Lemon's antics.

Now, he and Lemon were walking down the aisles of the train carriages, trying to locate this fucking Diesel and the blonde muppet in a hat who stole their case with ferocity and a rapidly diminishing sense of hope.

Tangerine was of a mind to get off the train with Lemon and say fuck it, but that would mean not finishing the job, which would have been a first for them. Then again, Tangerine did quite fancy keeping all of his limbs and was not particularly eager to encounter the infamous White Death.

While Lemon went on about the Oscar-worthy performance of the Diesel he had encountered, Tangerine heard his phone buzzing and responds, putting it on speaker. They're absolutely fucking paranoid, this lot. Lemon looks at him expectantly.

"You have been lying to me, my friend."

It's the White Death. Tangerine rolls his eyes, "Well, cat’s out of the bag now, innit?"

"You were responsible for keeping my son safe. For keeping my money safe."

"You know, I-I don’t know a thing or two about being a parent, but you know what I would do, being that it’s your son and your money?"

Lemon looks at him with alarm and shakes his head, whispering, "Don't-"

Tangerine continues, "I’d stop crying about your dead wife, get off your fucking lazy ass, come here and finish the job yourself. But as we’re having a bit of a heart-to-heart, got a couple things to tell ya. Your son’s a complete bell end and fuckin’ deserves to be bleeding out of his eye sockets. And as for your case, I haven’t seen it since Tokyo. And I hope someone’s fuckin’ found it, put it all on red and having a fuckin’ wonderful time."

As calmly as before, the White Death responds, "I will meet you at Kyoto station."

Tangerine smiles sarcastically, "Oh, how wonderful. I can’t fucking wait."

"I want to look into your eyes when I kill you and your brother."

"My brother..."

The Tangerine glanced toward his bother with a look that Lemon rarely ever saw, one of fear.

Tangerine gets ahold of himself and looks out the window, "Morning rush hour’s rolling in quite nicely. Uh, what’s your plan, mate? You gonna fuckin’ waltz up here and blow my brains out in front of the whole fuckin’ carriage of witnesses?

"There is no one left on that train. I know. I bought every ticket until the end of the line."

The line cuts short and Lemon and Tangerine are left in silence, the sole sound being the train rolling along its tracks.

"Never have we encountered a more unbearable Deisel-"

Lemon is interrupted by Tangerine, who yells in absolute frustration and anger. Brass knuckles in hand, he begins punching at the screen at the front of the carriage 'till his hands begin to bleed, "All of this for some fuckin' pathetic excuse of a father and a husband! Can't even be bothered to show his ugly mug."

Tangerine's knuckles throbbed with pain as he relentlessly pounded on the screen at the front of the carriage.

"The. Fucking. Bastard." He enunciates each word with a punch.

His frustration and anger boiled over, fueling each blow with an intensity that bordered on madness. Blood trickled down his hands, staining the metal beneath him, but he paid no heed to the pain. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of betrayal and helplessness that consumed him.

Beside him, Lemon watched in stunned silence, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the raw display of emotion unfolding before him. He had never seen Tangerine like this – so consumed by rage and despair that he seemed almost unrecognizable.

"Tangerine, stop!" Lemon finally shouted, reaching out to grab his brother's arm. "You're only hurting yourself."

But Tangerine shook off his brother's grip, his eyes ablaze with fury. "I couldn't give a fuck!" he roared, his voice echoing through the empty carriage. Lemon raises an eyebrow and Tangerine avoids his eyes, embarrassed almost by his fit of rage. He breathes heavily before sighing shakily, "This mission's been fucked since the beginning, 'asn't it?"

"Yep."

"And we should probably get off the train, shouldn't we?"

"Yep."

"Right. Fuck the case."

Lemon pats him on the shoulder, "Damn right, bruv."

Bloodied and bruised (Tangerine more than Lemon because Lemon doesn't bleed), they make their way through the next train carriage, only to come across another figure. Someone was still on the train. As Tangerine and Lemon cautiously approached the figure, they couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. After all they had been through, encountering another passenger on the seemingly deserted train was unexpected, to say the least.

There you were, your eyes wide with fear as she took in the sight of the bloodied brothers. You hadn't expected to come across this mysterious stranger once more. You shrank back instinctively, still shaken by the snake incident.

Tangerine and Lemon exchanged a wary glance before Tangerine spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface, "Hey there, love. Ya alright?"

You calmed at the sound of Tangerine's voice and a confidence that you rarely had took over you, "Now that you're here."

Tangerine laughs, "Where are your friends?"

You wave your arms weakly, your words slurring together, "Gone... They left me behind. A poisonous snake started biting people. That guy wasn't so lucky." You point to the body of an unfortunate passenger, obscured beneath two seats. He had blood seeping out of his eyes. Lemon and Tangerine turned to observe your line of sight and frowned in disgust.

Lemon's eyes widen with realization, "Well, now we know what killed the bastard of a White Death's son." Tangerine grunted in response.

You make an effort to stand, your drunken movements clumsy and staggering, "Are you boys here to rescue me? Because I could use a knight in shining armor."

"Something like that... You're telling me that your friends left you to face off a snake on your own while fuckin' drunk?"

You nodded sheepishly, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, they uh... weren't exactly the most reliable companions."

Lemon snorted derisively, "Clearly."

Tangerine shot his brother a warning look before turning back to you, his expression softening slightly. "Well, lucky for you, we happened to come along. Can you walk?"

You nodded, albeit unsteadily. "I think so. Where are we going?"

Tangerine glanced at Lemon, who shrugged in response. "Anywhere but here," Tangerine replied, his tone grim. "Let's get you off this train, and then we'll figure it out."

Lemon smiles reassuringly, "I'm Lemon by the way. He's my brother, Tangerine."

"Yes - I met him earlier."

Lemon lights up and grins at Tangerine, "Ah - so this was the pretty bird you were telling me about -"

Tangerine bristles, flushed in the face, "Shut it!" He only softens when you smile at him shyly.

With that, you collect your luggage, and the three of you set off down the deserted train carriage, Tangerine's hand on your back to keep you steady, the warmth of his hand against you sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, and with each step, your inhibitions seemed to slip away, replaced by a newfound boldness..

Continuing down the aisles, you speak up, "You know, I was of a mind to go hunt you down."

Tangerine chuckled softly, his lips quirking up into a half-smile, "Oh, really."

"Yes - I wanted to know who your tailor was because that suit of yours makes you look as though you were crafted by the Gods. Is it on purpose that it happens to match the color of your eyes?"

Tangerine's chuckle deepened at your compliment, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. "Crafted by the Gods, hm? I'll have to remember that one."

You smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the effect your words had on him. "I speak nothing but the truth," you replied cheekily, earning another amused chuckle from Tangerine.

Beside you, Lemon rolled his eyes, unable to suppress his grin at the exchange. "Are we done with the flirting, or do I need to start taking notes?"

You laughed, the sound echoing through the empty train carriage. "Oh, lighten up, Lemon. Can't a girl appreciate a well-dressed man without it being considered flirting?"

Tangerine shot you a playful wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Flattery will get you everywhere, love."

As the three of you made your way through the deserted train carriages, the air was thick with tension and anticipation. You found yourself drawn to Tangerine, his rugged charm and playful banter providing a welcome distraction from the chaos that had unfolded around you.

Lemon, ever the voice of reason, kept a watchful eye on his surroundings, his gaze occasionally darting towards you and his brother as if to ensure that no further harm befell you. Despite the gravity of the situation, a sense of camaraderie seemed to be blossoming between the three of you, forged in the crucible of shared adversity.

Suddenly, a faint sound caught your attention, causing you to halt in your tracks. Tangerine and Lemon tensed, their bodies coiled like springs, ready to react at a moment's notice.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

Tangerine nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dimly lit carriage. "Stay close," he murmured, his hand tightening protectively around your arm.

The sound grew louder, a rhythmic thud that seemed to emanate from the far end of the carriage. Lemon inched forward, his movements fluid and silent, every muscle in his body poised for action.

As you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you was one of equal parts amusement and confusion. There, in the center of the aisle, was the blonde man in the bucket hat, frantically attempting to pry open a briefcase with what appeared to be a comically oversized set of pliers.

Upon catching sight of you three, the man froze, his eyes wide with panic. "Uh, this isn't what it looks like?" he stammered, nervousness clear in his voice.

Tangerine and Lemon exchanged a knowing glance, their lips curling into matching smirks of amusement. "Oh, I think it's exactly what it looks like," Tangerine drawled, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"That's our case, you muppet," Lemon chimed in, his arms folded across his chest as he regarded the man with disdain.

The man's eyes darted from one of you to the other, his grip tightening around the pliers as he searched for an escape route. "Listen-"

Tangerine's face hardened, "You drugged my brother..."

"He was trying to kill me?!"

"You pushed me off a fuckin' train..."

"Again, you were trying to kill me! How did you get back on by the way?"

"I jumped back on," Tangerine raised an eyebrow. Lemon looked at him with confusion, seemingly unaware of this information.

You looked at Tangerine in awe and admiration, impressed by the skill and effort it must have taken to jump onto a moving train. The broken glass in his hair and cuts along his knuckles now made more sense. You had a feeling that whatever you had walked into, these people you had met, were entangled in something far beyond your understanding.

"Right. Listen, you can have the case-"

"We couldn't give a rat's arse about the case anymore. What irks me beyond anything fuckin' else in that you tried to fuck us over. And if we weren't gettin' off this train, me and Lemon would be beyond thrilled to watch the White Death have a fuckin' field day with you, ripping your limbs off bit by bit."

You weren't from Japan but even you had heard of the White Death. Locals had fearfully mentioned his name in passing. Based off of what you had heard of the man, you knew that he was not someone to mess around with.

Ladybug tried to look doubtful, "Not if I bring him the case."

Tangerine rolled his eyes and looked at Lemon as if asking, "Help me out here?" and Lemon spoke up, "Do what you fucking want, man, but the White Death is planning to kill us all. Why do think there's nobody else on this train. He bought the whole thing out."

Ladybug's eyes widened with realization, "Well, shit..."

"Now you get it," Tangerine muttered, "Ya fuckin' bastard..."

Ladybug's resolve wavered as he weighed his options. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded decisively. "Alright, fine. I'll get off the train too."

Tangerine and Lemon exchanged a glance of surprise, but they quickly regained their composure. Tangerine cleared his throat, "Are you taking the case with ya?"

Ladybug hesitated, glancing at the briefcase still clutched in his hand. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. I don't want the White Death coming after me. I'll leave it here."

Tangerine nodded in understanding, his expression grim. "Fair enough. We're getting off at the next stop. Then, you do whatever the fuck you'd like and hopefully, we never have to see you again."

Still questioning whether Tangerine still had murderous intent behind his words, Ladybug muttered, "I hope so too..."

As the train hurtleed towards its next stop, the four of you found seats in the empty carriage, the tension in the air palpable. Ladybug sat off to the side awkwardly. You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you, the reality of the situation sinking in. Gone was the carefree excitement of your girls' trip, replaced by a looming sense of danger and uncertainty.

You fidgeted nervously in your seat, the events of the past hour replaying in your mind. You felt as though you had sobered up. The snake, the abandoned train, the potential encounter with the White Death – it all felt like something out of a nightmare. And yet, here you were, stranded on a speeding train with two complete strangers who seem to have a knack for attracting trouble.

Despite your best efforts to stay calm, a wave of anxiety washed over you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. You glanced at Tangerine and Lemon, grateful for their presence but also acutely aware of the danger that surrounded you.

Tangerine noticed your unease and shifted closer to you, his voice soft and reassuring. "Hey, don't worry. We'll get through this together."

You managed a weak smile, appreciative of his attempt to comfort you. "I hope so. This whole situation is just... unreal."

Lemon nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "Yeah, it's definitely not what we were expecting when we boarded this train."

Tangerine placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "But we'll figure it out. We always do. My concern, love, is what you're going to do about those friends of yours."

Lemon huffed angrily, "They're Diesels, the lot of them."

You frowned, confused, "Diesels?"

Tangerine looked frustrated beyond belief, "Here we go! Please, spare her of the Thomas references."

Lemon ignored him and stated matter-of-factly, "Everything I learned about people, I learned from Thomas." Lemon reached into his jacket to pull out a sticker-book. He chose one of the stickers with care, "Diesels are the worst of the worst. They never want the best for you. You, though... you seem like an Emily. Kind, caring, intelligent."

Lemon carefully selected a sticker from his book and offered it to you with a small smile. "Here, consider it a token of friendship."

You accepted the sticker, examining it curiously before affixing it to the back of your hand. "Thanks, Lemon. I appreciate it."

Tangerine rolled his eyes at Lemon's Thomas reference, clearly exasperated. "Great, now we're going to have to endure Thomas and his friends for the rest of the journey."

Lemon chuckled and you couldn't help but laugh at Tangerine's comment, the absurdity of the situation breaking through the tension. "So, does that make you a Gordon, Tangerine? Strong, proud, and always in a hurry?"

Tangerine shot you a mock glare, clearly unamused by the comparison. "Oh, please. If anything, I'm more of a James. Fiery, charming, and a bit of a troublemaker."

You grinned, enjoying the banter between the brothers. "Ah, yes. I can see it now. But let's not forget about Edward over here," you teased, gesturing to Lemon. "Wise, kind-hearted, and always ready to lend a helping hand."

Lemon nodded in agreement, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, someone has to keep you two in line."

Tangerine groaned playfully, "Great, now there are fuckin' two of them," he mutters under his breath, earning a chuckle from Lemon and a playful nudge from you.

As the banter settled into a comfortable rhythm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie forming between you and the brothers. However, a nagging curiosity lingered in the back of your mind, prompting you to finally voice your question.

"So, why were you two on the train?" you asked, turning to Tangerine and Lemon with a quizzical expression.

Lemon exchanged a glance with Tangerine before answering, his tone guarded. "We were on a job."

"A job?" you echoed, your curiosity piqued. "What kind of job?"

Tangerine sighed, exchanging a knowing look with Lemon before turning to you, his expression grave. "We're... assassins," he admitted, his voice soft but firm.

You blinked in surprise, the revelation sinking in slowly. Assassins. The word hung in the air, heavy with implications and danger. And yet, strangely, you found yourself unfazed by the admission. Perhaps it was the trust you had begun to place in Tangerine and Lemon, or maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel afraid.

Instead, you nodded thoughtfully, accepting the information without hesitation. "I figured it was something like that," you admitted, surprising even yourself with your calm demeanor. "Well, whatever it is you do, I trust you to protect me."

Tangerine's eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude passing over his features. "Thank you, love. We'll do everything we can to keep you safe."

And then, just like that, the train finally came to a stop. The three of you jumped eagerly, knowing the doors would only stay open for a minute. If you missed this stop, it would mean waiting 'till Kyoto, where the White Death awaited you all. Ladybug was equally eager to get off the train and was practically tripping over his feet.

The sun was rising, casting a soft golden glow over the empty platform as you stepped off the train, and the air was crisp and cool, a welcome change from the confines of the carriage. As you stood there, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the early morning, a sense of relief washed over you.

As Ladybug stepped off the train, he turned to face Tangerine and Lemon, a grateful smile on his face. "Well, it's been... interesting," he said, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Thanks for, uh, not killing me, I guess."

Lemon chuckles, warning him, "You stay out of trouble, Joburg."

With a final nod of farewell, Ladybug headed off towards the exit, pulling out his phone to call his handler. As he disappeared into the early morning light, Tangerine and Lemon turned to you, their expressions serious.

"So, what now?" Lemon asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

You shrugged, feeling a surge of uncertainty wash over you. "I honestly don't know. I don't have anywhere else to go."

Tangerine exchanged a glance with Lemon before turning back to you, his expression softened. "Well, you could always come with us," he suggested, his voice surprisingly gentle. "At least until we figure out what to do next."

You hesitated, unsure of whether to accept their offer. But as you looked into Tangerine's eyes, you saw a sincerity there that made your heart flutter. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to follow him wherever he went, there was something undeniably compelling about him, something that drew you in and made you want to stay by his side.

"Alright," you said finally, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll come with you."

Tangerine grinned, relief evident in his expression. "Great. Welcome aboard, love."

With that, the three of you set off for the train station. Surrounded by the quiet stillness of the early morning, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you.

After Tangerine had made a call, a car came to pick the three of you up from the train station. When Tangerine had suggested he and Lemon try to hijack a car, you had almost slapped him right then and there. Tangerine was apologetic and insisted he was joking (you weren't quite convinced) and Lemon just laughed his ass off.

As the three of you drove to a hotel in the backseat of the cab, you had fallen asleep on Tangerine's shoulder, and he certainly didn't seem to mind. Your hair tickled his neck and he looked down at you, absentmindedly moving your hair out of your eyes. Lemon watched him with a grin.

"You like her."

Tangerine huffed indignantly and narrowed his eyes, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Lemon waved his hand, "You barely give anyone the time of day. I know it when I see it."

"You don't see anything."

Lemon leaned back in his seat, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, come on, Tangerine. It's written all over your face. You like her."

Tangerine's cheeks flushed slightly, a mixture of embarrassment and irritation evident in his expression. He hoped to God that you were still sleeping. "Quiet! You don't know what you're fuckin' talking about," he retorted, his tone defensive.

Lemon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Deny it all you want, but I've seen the way you look at her. You're practically smitten."

Tangerine shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Lemon's gaze as he muttered under his breath, "It's not like that."

But Lemon wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You should tell her."

"She probably doesn't even feel the same..."

"Did you fucking hear her earlier? She obviously likes you, bruv. Sculpted by the gods, my arse."

"Oi! I will have you know-"

"Yeah, yeah... But seriously, man. Talk to her."

Tangerine prepared to interrupt but Lemon continued, "Get to know her," Lemon urged, his tone softer now, genuine concern etched on his face. "You've been through a lot together already. And let's face it, she trusts us enough to sleep on your shoulder. That's gotta mean something."

Tangerine sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He couldn't deny the truth in Lemon's words. Despite his initial reluctance to get involved, there was something about you that intrigued him, drew him in like a moth to a flame.

"I don't know, Lemon," Tangerine admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not exactly the best at this whole... relationship thing."

Lemon placed a reassuring hand on Tangerine's shoulder, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, none of us are. But you won't know until you try, right? And who knows, maybe she'll surprise you."

Tangerine nodded, a small glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. Maybe Lemon was right. Maybe it was worth taking a chance, risking his heart for the possibility of something more.

As the car pulled to the hotel, Tangerine glanced down at you again. As you stirred from your slumber, blinking sleepily up at him with a soft smile, he felt something flutter in his chest. He would talk to you, somehow, he decided. He would take that leap of faith and see where it led. He had to.

The hotel was nice, even nicer than the hotel you had been previously staying at with your absurdly wealthy "friends." It was modern while still retaining traditional Japanese elements. Given Tangerine's nonchalance, you guessed he was used to staying at places like this.

The receptionist gave the three of you a nervous glance, given the states of Lemon and Tangerine's disheveled appearances and bloodied attire. Tangerine, however, seemed unfazed by the receptionist's scrutiny. He stepped forward with a confident stride, offering her a polite smile.

"Good evening," he greeted in suprisingly well-spoken Japanese, his tone smooth and respectful. "We have reservations under the name 'Tanaka.'"

The receptionist's demeanor softened slightly at Tangerine's polite demeanor, and she quickly retrieved the reservation details from her computer. After a moment of typing, she nodded and handed over three room keys, her expression professional but still cautious. "Yes, Mr. Tanaka. Your suite is ready. Please enjoy your stay."

Tangerine nodded in thanks before turning to you and Lemon. "Let's go," he said simply, leading the way to the elevator without waiting for a response.

You followed behind him, feeling a mix of gratitude for his quick thinking and admiration for his composure. Despite the unusual circumstances, Tangerine seemed completely at ease navigating through the hotel, as if he belonged there.

Lemon notices your surprise and whispers loudly, "Sometimes I think he picked up Japanese since we've been here just to pick up the ladies."

He gives you a conspiratorial wink, showcasing the mischievous side that balances out his normally laid-back demeanor. "I mean, it seems to have worked on you."

You shoot Lemon a playful glare, but can't hide the slight flush that colors your cheeks at his teasing remark. "Maybe he's just a man of many talents," you counter with a sly smile.

Lemon barks out a laugh. "Oh, he's certainly got talents alright. Just don't let that smooth-talking charmer fool you into thinking he's some kind of Renaissance man."

As the elevator doors open, Tangerine holds it for the two of you, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Lemon's comment but remaining silent. You get the distinct impression that he heard every word.

Falling into step beside Tangerine, you lean in closer as you walk down the hallway. "I have to admit, that display at the front desk was rather impressive," you murmur. "Where did you pick up such immaculate Japanese?"

A rakish grin tugs at the corner of Tangerine's mouth. "A gentleman never reveals all his secrets, love." His eyes roam over you appraisingly. "Though I may be persuaded to share a few...for the right price."

Your breath catches at the blatant flirtation, heat simmering low in your belly. Two can play at this game. "Is that so?" you purr, holding his intense gaze. "And what might that price be, exactly?"

Before Tangerine can respond, Lemon groans loudly from behind you two. "For fuck's sake, get a room you two!" His exasperated tone is betrayed by the amused grin he's failing to hide.

Tangerine chuckles, breaking the charged moment as he slides the keycard into the door. "You're just jealous you're not getting any action, bruv."

"Hey, I get plenty of action!" Lemon protests indignantly as he brushes past you both into the sumptuous suite. "More than you'd believe."

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Tangerine gestures you inside with a wink. "Don't mind him, love. He's just bitter no one can resist my charms."

As you step into the opulent room, you can't shake the feeling that there's far more to these roguish brothers than meets the eye. And there's definitely a part of you that wants to explore Tangerine in more ways than one.

As you step into the lavish suite, you can't help but be in awe of your surroundings. The spacious living area is beautifully appointed, with plush couches and chairs arranged invitingly around a sleek glass coffee table. To one side, there's a well-equipped office nook, perfect for getting work done in luxury.

But the true showstopper is the stunning panoramic view that greets you through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The twinkling lights of the city skyline stretch out before you, a breathtaking vista that seems to encapsulate the vibrant energy of Japan itself. You can't resist drifting closer to the windows, mesmerized by the glittering skyscrapers in the distance.

A small, stylish kitchenette sits off to one side, fully stocked with high-end appliances and accessories. You can easily imagine Tangerine whipping up a gourmet meal with that roguish charm of his.

Your gaze is drawn to the three closed doors leading off from the main living space, no doubt opening up into equally luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms.

"This is...very nice," you murmur with amazement as you gaze around the opulent suite.

"Yeah, not too shabby," Lemon chimes in with a dramatic yawn. "I don't know about you two, but I'm fuckin' knackered. Need to get cleaned up."

He wanders over to the closed doors and spots a notecard with his codename scrawled across it. "Ah, looks like our handler left us some essentials."

Peering into the room, you see plush bedding, a high-end ensuite bathroom...and unmistakably, a duffel bag filled with gear. Cash, burner phones, and even weaponry peeking out from within.

Tangerine notices your curious look. "Don't worry love, those are just for me and Lemon."

He shifts closer, dropping his voice. "You'll be alright on your own for a bit while we get sorted? Let me know if you need anything."

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, really. You two get yourselves situated."

With a grateful nod, Tangerine disappears into his own room, leaving you alone in the expansive living area. After a moment's hesitation, you make your way to the remaining door.

Sure enough, the bedroom is just as luxurious as the rest of the suite. A lavish king-sized bed dominates the space, with high-end furniture and a private ensuite. On the dresser, you find a change of clothes - simple sweats and a t-shirt, but incredibly soft and brand new nonetheless.

Stripping off your travel-worn clothes, you can't resist indulging in a long, hot shower, letting the tension ease from your muscles under the pounding spray. But as you sink into the plush mattress, exhaustion settles in your bones...and you find your thoughts drifting, unable to fully relax.

Loneliness and a pang of hurt wash over you as you recall your so-called friends abandoning you on the train. You'd been through so much together, but at the first sign of true danger, they fled without a second thought, leaving you utterly alone.

Except...you're not alone anymore, are you? Your gaze strays to the adjoining wall, knowing Tangerine's room lies just beyond. Those two roguish brothers have risked their lives to keep you safe.

A flush of embarrassment heats your cheeks as you recall your brazenly flirtatious behavior towards Tangerine while intoxicated on the train. The boldness with which you complimented his striking looks and blatantly admired his physique in that tailored suit.

Under normal circumstances, you'd never have been so forward. But something about the adrenaline of the perilous situation, combined with the liquid courage coursing through your veins, allowed you to shed your inhibitions spectacularly.

You can't help but cringe inwardly as snippets of conversation flash through your mind.

"You look as though you were crafted by the Gods..."

"I could use a knight in shining armor."

Heat blazes across your face at the suggestive remarks. How shameless you were, practically throwing yourself at the mysterious stranger!

And yet...you can't find it in yourself to truly regret it. If you're being honest, that uninhibited side of you is something you've kept carefully locked away for far too long. The thrill of allowing it to run free, even for those fleeting moments, was intoxicating in its own right.

Perhaps that's part of what drew you to Tangerine in the first place - his own unapologetic confidence and daring bravado. He embraces his roguish charm wholeheartedly, not a shred of self-consciousness to be found.

A part of you longs to cultivate that same unrestrained spirit, to stop holding yourself back and hiding behind propriety. To truly allow yourself to live boldly, to take what you want without hesitation or apology.

As you lay in the plush hotel bed, you can't resist imagining how freeing it would feel to let that side loose once more. But this time, with no alcoholic filter - simply pure, emboldened desire guiding your actions.

The thought is as tantalizing as it is terrifying. Could you ever truly allow yourself such unrestrained indulgence? Or would you always be tempered by the nagging restraints of societal expectations?

One thing is certain - now that Tangerine has sauntered into your life, you have the distinct feeling those long-buried urges will only grow more persistent. And you can't deny, after the harrowing events of today, that a large part of you is eager to explore just how far you're willing to let them run wild.

Making a decision, you rise from the bed and make your way towards Tangerine's door, knocking lightly.

"Come in!"

You enter to find Tangerine hunched over a mirror, grimacing as he prods at a nasty cut on his cheekbone. Tiny shards of glass glisten in the wound.

"Everything alright?" you ask softly.

Tangerine glances over with a rueful smile. "Just a little souvenir from that bastard bucket-hat bloke. Nicked my face after jumping back on the train."

Without thinking, you move to his side, gently taking his chin to tilt his face towards the light. "Here, let me..."

You work carefully, utilizing all your focus to extract each sliver of glass, cleaning the wound thoroughly. Tangerine watches you intently, an unreadable look in his intense blue eyes.

"You've got a knack for this, love," he murmurs eventually. "Bit of a dab hand when it comes to patching people up."

You flush slightly at the praise. "Well...I used to be a nurse, actually." A pang of regret hits you. "Honestly, I should've offered to help with yours and Lemon's injuries earlier. I feel silly for not thinking of it."

Tangerine considers you for a long moment before speaking again, his voice lowered. "How'd you like to put those nursing skills to good use then? Properly, this time?"

You blink at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Join up with me and my brother." Tangerine states it simply, as if it's the most logical thing in the world. "We could use someone with your...capabilities watching our backs. Keeping us in one piece."

He lets the suggestion hang in the air, letting you process it. When you don't immediately respond, he presses on.

"Don't sell yourself short, love. You handled yourself bloody well on that train when shit went sideways, and all while being tipsy. You've got a cool head and you're not afraid to get your hands dirty when needed."

A roguish grin plays across his lips. "And I don't know about you, but I certainly enjoyed the company."

You're stunned into silence, weighing his unexpected offer. Join them? In their line of work - whatever dangerous world that entails?

But even as apprehension swirls within you, you can't deny the thrill the idea sparks, the instinct to run headlong into this exhilarating unknown.

"What about money?" you blurt out, startled by your own daring even as the words leave your lips. "Your...jobs. How do they pay?"

If Tangerine is surprised by your interest, he doesn't show it. "Well enough to live more than comfortably, I can assure you. Probably more than that nursing gig of yours ever did."

His eyes burn with intensity. "Think it over, love. But I meant what I said - I'd love to have you by my side."

You search his gaze, seeing the barely concealed hope intermingled with that simmering confidence. You notice just how blue his eyes are In this moment, the choice is yours to make.

Taking a steadying breath, you meet Tangerine's stare head-on. "Alright. I'm in."

Tangerine's face breaks into a wide, genuine smile at your agreement to join him and Lemon, his eyes crinkling at the corners. For a fleeting moment, his typical bravado slips, replaced by an openness you've yet to witness from the assassin.

Then his gaze seems to catch on something - your hand, still gently cradling his jaw from cleaning his wound. A faint blush tinges his chiseled cheeks as the realization of your lingering proximity sinks in.

Clearing his throat, Tangerine averts his eyes, a hint of uncharacteristic bashfulness creeping into his tone. "That's, uh...that's great, love. I'm over the moon you're on board, truly."

He chances another glance your way, blue eyes burning with an intensity that steals your breath. "To be honest, part of me was terrified at the thought of never seeing you again after this job."

Tangerine lets out a rueful chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Sounds daft, I know. But there's just...something about you."

His calloused fingers ghost along your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. "I've not felt this way about someone in a long time. Maybe fuckin' ever, if I'm being honest with myself."

You're stunned by his vulnerability, the raw openness he's allowing you to witness. Unconsciously, you find yourself leaning into his touch, drawn in by the flickering warmth in those azure depths.

"Tangerine..." you murmur, pulse fluttering wildly. "I...you have no idea how entranced I was by you from the moment I laid eyes on you on that train."

The words tumble forth in a rush, as if a dam has broken within you. "Those things I said when I was tipsy? It was all true - what I was thinking deep down but could never normal bring myself to voice. You're gorgeous, yes, but it's more than that. The way you carried yourself with such easy confidence, the charm mixed with that protectiveness..."

Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw reverently. "I've been enamored with you since I first saw you. And my friends could see it plain as day too. When I first heard you speak, my God... you could narrate audiobooks with that voice of yours. I'm serious. ."

Before you can continue, Tangerine surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's passionate yet achingly tender, his hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you flush against him. You melt into his solid frame, returning the heated embrace with equal fervor, all thoughts fleeing from your mind aside from the searing brand of his mouth on yours.

You pull on the strands of hair that meet his neck and he lets out a whine. He traces one of his hands down your spine, the coldness of his rings making you shiver. When you grind against his crotch, he's tearing himself away with a ragged groan, resting his forehead against yours. His chest heaves with each shuddering breath, eyes dark with want.

"Bloody hell, love..." Tangerine rasps hoarsely. "If you keep going on like that, I won't be able to resist taking you right here and now."

You let out a breathless laugh, emboldened by the fire igniting in your blood. "Well, I certainly wouldn't object to that course of action..."

He groans again, dropping his head to press scorching kisses along the slender column of your throat. "You're going to be the death of me, pet."

Nipping lightly at your racing pulse point, Tangerine rumbles against your skin. "How about you stay in here tonight? No point in you being relegated to your own room..."

His heated gaze meets yours, swirling with a molten promise that sets your heart pounding. In this moment, you know there's no force on earth that could make you deny him.

As he draws you towards the bedroom, your eyes catch on the well-worn books piled on his nightstand. "You read?" You can't help the hint of pleasant surprise coloring your voice.

Tangerine follows your line of sight, the hint of a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "Suppose that's one of my little secrets, eh? Always enjoyed a good book, ever since I was young."

Settling onto the plush mattress, he pulls you into his side, trailing kisses along your shoulder. "Go on then, have a look. See if our tastes align at all."

You happily oblige, perusing the titles - a mixture of classics and modern works spanning countless genres. Unable to resist, you pluck out a beloved old favorite, flipping through the dog-eared pages with a contented smile.

"We may just be literary soulmates, Tangerine," you tease lightly. "Though...I have to ask. What draws a hardened assassin to the poetry of Dickinson and the wit of Shakespeare?"

For a moment, he's quiet, considering your question carefully. When he speaks again, his voice is tinged with a rare wistfulness.

"They're a connection to another world, I suppose. An escape, in their own way. A reminder that for all the brutality and darkness this life can bring...beauty and deeper meaning will always exist, if you know where to look for it."

The simple yet profound wisdom of his words steals your breath. Here is a side of Tangerine few ever glimpse - a man who has stared into the abyss yet still yearns for higher truth, for exquisite artistry amid the violence and chaos.

His fingers trail along your arm, raising gooseflesh in their wake. "Lemon finds the whole thing utterly baffling, of course. For me, books are my trains. He can't seem to fathom why I insist on lugging books everywhere we go. But to me..." A soft, crooked smile curves his lips. "Well, they're part of what keeps me human, I reckon."

In this quiet moment, something ineffable seems to click into place between you two. A deeper understanding, a sense of two souls intertwining with preternatural ease.

Cradling his face, you meet Tangerine's fervent gaze once more. "Then I hope you'll always have time for them," you murmur. "And I'll be here to help keep that part of you alive."

His reply is swallowed by another ardent kiss, filled with unspoken promise. For now, at least, the world beyond these four walls can wait.

@little-miss-dilf-lover @tange-my-rine @sebsbarnes @spookyspecterino @whatiswrongwithpeople @liukangsgirl @kiss-me-cill-me I hope you guys enjoy this as well!

#Tangerine my loveeee #You write him so well!#Thanks for the tag!#Tangerine #Bullet Train

151 notes · View notes