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queers-gambit · 5 months

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Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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hella-amberpricefield · 2 years

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Bullet Train (2022)

#bullet train #moviegifs #filmtvsource #filmtvdaily #filmtv #dailyflicks #filmgifs #filmedit #movieedit #bullet train movie #gifs #edit #mine

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nyxvuxoa · 11 months

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Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Tangerine ⤷ Bullet Train, 2022 | dir. David Leitch

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tangybug · 2 years

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bullet train + the onion headlines (1/?)

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tortelorrini · 4 months

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Mfw I’m forever blowing bubbles

#bullet train #bullet train movie #lemon bullet train #tangerine bullet train #lemon #tangerine #my art #tw blood

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phierie · 2 months

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Tangerine from a few weeks ago, I was only going to copy the pose originally but liked the background and colours so made it into a sort of photo study (bloody tarp added by yours truly)

#bullet train #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train fanart #my art #doodle #fanart

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legends-of-apex · 2 years

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‘Atta Girl’ | Tangerine x f!Reader (18+)

rating: 18+ (semi-public smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, profanity)

word count: 819

summary: In which Tangerine fingers f!reader in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant. Featuring lots of Tangerine's use of pet names and encouragement.

‘Mind and keep quiet if you don’t wanna get caught, love. Because you know I couldn’t really give a fuck if we do or not.’

‘You’re not making that easy!’ You replied with a shaky breath.

Tangerine chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the mess he was making of you. Few things got him off quite like having you stood on shaky legs with his fingers nestled between your thighs in a place like this.

Thankfully the bathroom had been empty since you slipped away with him and slammed the stall door closed, his lips on your neck and your fingers entwining with strands of his dark hair. Someone could still walk in at any moment. The bathroom wasn't even especially far from the restaurant’s bustling floor. Sound seemed to carry well in there too from the marble tiles to the soaring ceiling. Tangerine’s dress shoes had clicked loudly as he ushered you into that stall.

You had to at least try and keep quiet but he never made that easy.

‘Sorry, love.’ He responded like a man who absolutely was not sorry for any of this. You had outright asked for this but had wrongly presumed he’d make you wait until you got home to his place. It was easy to forget Tangerine was compulsive enough to finger you in a restaurant bathroom. ‘The worst that can happen is someone walks in and then you’ll really have to keep quiet. So for now just relax and enjoy it, yeah?’

You knew he had you. One thing about Tangerine is that he always makes sure to support your body and keep you close. So you decided to relax and trust that he had you, as he always did.

‘That’s it. Atta girl.’ He praised when you relaxed in his hold.

He liked watching your face as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, as he curled them to make your thighs quiver and shake. When you flung your head back against the wall of the bathroom stall it was like dangling a carrot on a string, your neck was just begging to be kissed. So he pressed his lips to it. The soft prickle along your neck from the hair upon his upper lip made you gasp.

‘I wish we were home right now so I could fuck you good and proper. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ He mumbled against your skin and you groaned at the thought. ‘We wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom, love. I’d have you sprawled out on the fucking dining room table with your dress still on and all.’

He loved the way sweat gathered and glistened on your sweet skin, the sheer desperation for release that laced your every movement, your every half-swallowed cry.

‘God, look at you.’ He admired, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now?’

Your clit pulsed beneath his thumb as he pressed down on it in smooth circles. His pace was steady and thorough enough that you cried out so loud he had to kiss you to muffle the sound.

‘Careful.’ He warned. ‘As much as I love the sound of your pretty voice we don’t want to cut this short now do we?’

You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and waistcoat until your fingers cramped; Anything in a bid to relieve tension as he flexed his fingers inside of you so deliciously. It made him want to ravish you, to wrap your legs around his waist and have you right against the stall.

‘I’m close!’ Your voice wavered. The pace of his fingers sent heat down your back, pooling in your stomach like white-hot amber. Your entire body tensed. Your breath fell so heavy and quick.

‘You gonna come for me? Come on now, I know it’s gonna be beautiful.’

So you let the floodgates open.

He kept up the pace of his fingers even as you buried your head in his shoulder to muffle yourself, to keep your voice from bouncing off the walls. You barely even registered that he was praising you until you felt his lips on your forehead and the fullness dissipating along with his fingers from within you.

‘You alright, gorgeous?’ He asked with a gentle gaze and the softest touch to your cheek. ‘You did so well.’

You nodded and still held onto him as you caught your breath and your limbs softened. Tangerine was in no mood to rush your recovery. Instead, he took to smoothing your dress back down for you before pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. His clothes were just as much of a mess as yours were from your clawing at them but he couldn't bring himself to care.

‘Do you think our food’s gone cold?’ You questioned once your breath evened.

‘It most certainly has, I reckon.’ He replied with a laugh.

Tagging: @icy-spicy @simpingforclaudette (Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tangerine tag list <3)

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #aaron taylor johnson #fic #reader insert #one shot #mine #my writing #k.exe #not sfw

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months

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Dress

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Your best friends promised never to tell you about their dangerous job. However, all goes to shit when you find out another way.

Genre: Angsty fluff (happy ending)

Warnings: protective!Tangerine, home invasion, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, sexual innuendo/implying sexual harassment (really not as bad as that sounds lol i would just rather put a warning)? murder, violence…

Tangerine always knew you were too kind for the life he had chosen.

He wonders if he hadn't known you so long or if you weren't as much Lemon's best friend as his, then perhaps it would have been an easy decision to cut you out of their lives.

Only, the decision wasn't easy. It was selfish and it eats him up inside, but both him and Lemon had agreed they couldn't lose you. So, they'd made a deal that they wouldn't tell you the true nature of their job. That way, you would be safe.

You, on the other hand, aren't as innocent as they think. You've known them long enough to know their expressions and whenever you mention their profession, they become eerily silent and tense. You've seen the blood under Lemon's fingernails and the bruises on Tangerine's knuckles when they visit you after one of their so-called "work trips".

However, after countless evasions on their part, you've stopped asking questions. Now, you stay content without knowing because you don't want to lose them either.

One evening, you hear a knock on your apartment door and your smile widens. He's early. He's usually never early. You stand up from the couch, pulling up your fuzzy sock as you rush over the wooden floorboards to open the door for him. "Hi," you start but your throat locks when you're met with three burly men in black, threatening, masks.

You don't have time to scream out as one of them presses his hand against your mouth and forces himself inside. The other two follow quickly and you stumble backwards. The man holding you presses his gun into your side and you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks as your mind races.

Another man hands you what looks like a burner phone from his pocket and says, "Call him."

Your vision is blurred by your tears and when the man's hand leaves your mouth, you ask. "Who?"

"You know who, girl," the last man laughs and your chest tightens. Your hands are shaky when you type out Tangerine's number. You have an icky in your stomach telling you he hadn't been the one to ask you to hang out this evening.

Hesitantly, you hold the phone to your ear and whimper when the man with the gun pushes you over to your couch. He sits closer than necessary and teasingly moves the barrel against your cheeks and up into your hair.

"Hello?" Tangerine answers, his voice hoarse. Your heart leaps hearing him. It doesn't matter how mad he sounds because it's his voice. He'll make sure no one hurts you.

You turn to the men, as if asking them what you should say. All three of them smirk and the one holding you just shrugs.

"T-tan," you whisper, your hold tightening on the phone. Your voice comes out as shaky as your hands. You want to scream but as the seriousness of the situation sinks in, you can't make your mouth work properly.

"Y/n? Is that you, love?" Tangerine sounds much more awake now, the annoyance in his tone completely gone.

You're the only person who calls him Tan.

"I-I don't know who — and I don't know what they want from me, but t-they have a gun," your word vomit tears a whimper from your throat and you hear curses and movement from the other side of the line. "And I'm so scared. Please, h-help me. I need you."

Suddenly, the phone is ripped from your hands and you let out a shriek of surprise and then another whimper when the gun is pressed to your temple to shut you up. The man chuckles darkly and his arm slides around you so you don't dare make another sound.

"Yes, yeah, we know—mmhmm, yes, we will be waiting with your little friend here," the man holding the phone grins at you, "She's a pretty one, ain't she? Such gorgeous eyes when they're all glossy with tears—" he chuckles, "well shove one up yours too. Don't fucking make us hurt her. You know what we want, bring us the money and she'll survive. Yeah, yeah."

He grunts and throws the phone across the room, causing you to jump as the other man holding you presses the gun harder into your temple.

The man who was just on the phone pinches his nose and mutters, "Bloody fuck," he turns to you and points his index finger accusingly, "You're a lucky girl, you know. Because, if we didn't really need that money, you would have a bullet stuck in that fucking pretty head of yours for the way your boyfriend speaks to me."

You shiver, wincing. You can tell the man means it. "He's not my boyfriend," you whisper.

"Whatever, darling," he rolls his eyes and leans forward to take your arm, "Just be a good girl for us and shut up."

* * *

Tangerine feels like he's living his worst nightmare. As soon as he heard your voice on the line, from a masked number, he couldn't think straight anymore. He's currently trying to unlock the drawer where he keeps his gun, fumbling as furious tears prickle in his eyes.

He can't shake the sound of you crying out his name. He sees you, your skin bruised and bloody as tears stream down your cheeks and he wants to punch his fist through the drawer.

He should have protected you from this. He should have known.

Lemon walks into his room, frowning when he sees how distressed his brother is. "Woah, mate, what's wrong?"

Tangerine finally thrusts the drawer open and shoves his gun in the back of his pants. He stands and runs a hand through his hair, rushing towards the door. His voice is strained when he says, "Someone has Y/n. They're hurting her."

Lemon's entire face drops. "W-what? H-how?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Tangerine snaps, "Now, are you fuckin' coming or not?"

* * *

You shift your hand, the ropes burning against your wrists, as you sit on the ground of your bathroom. Blood trickles down your eyebrows from when one of the men hit you and slammed your head into the sink.

The gag they had used cuts painfully into the sides of your mouth. The men had used a pair of your panties they'd found in your dresser and bound the lace around your head, finding it hilarious. You didn't find it funny, the embarrassment still lingering as you sit in the darkness of the bathroom.

Suddenly, the faint laughter from the men in your living room stops and, after a moment, you hear loud crashes. You jump, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen intensely. You hear the slamming of doors until the bathroom door opens and you hear a familiar, "Fuck."

Your eyes snap open and Tangerine kneels in front of you. He quickly unties your panties from around your mouth, his eyes dark with anger and his eyebrows scrunch with worry. You whimper, embarrassed by him seeing you like this. He tosses your panties to the side, not commenting on them but fuming inside as he cups your cheeks gently and inspects your injuries.

"Shit, does it hurt, love?" he asks, looking at the cut on your forehead and the bruises littered across your skin.

You train your eyes on his appearance. Sweat beads at his hair and splatters of fresh blood adorn his cheeks. It doesn't look like it's his considering he looks unharmed. Tangerine looks you over quickly. "I- did they touch you?" he asks hesitantly, insinuating something from the panties in your mouth and he is clearly a little nervous to know the answer.

You shake your head and his eyes soften. "Oh, thank fuckin' god. I'm so sorry," he says and unties your hands, wasting no time scooping you up into his arms. You lean your head on his chest, still too shocked to form any words. Tangerine places his hand over your eyes as he walks into the living room and you hear shuffling and curses from what sounds like Lemon.

You turn to look but Tangerine keeps your head still and soothes you, "Shhh, you're okay, c'mon,"

Cold air hits you and you hear Tangerine open the door to his car. He places you inside and kisses your forehead. He kneels next to the car and his thumb touches near your cut, his eyes still dark with anger. "I have to check something with Lemon," he says again and his heart breaks when you grab his arm,

"Please, don't l-leave me," you manage to ask, your voice hoarse.

Tangerine rests his hand on yours and tries to explain, "I won't be long, darlin'. I can't leave Lemon in there alone but we'll be quick. Trust me."

On any other day you would wait for a better time to bring this up, but your mind is still all fuzzy so you whisper, "Trust you? H-how can I trust you after what happened?" you see the hurt and guilt written on his face as the truth in your words sink in.

Tangerine has never been good with strong emotions. He doesn't like them. They make him feel weak. You watch as his expression hardens and he looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/n," he says but mechanically closes the car door on you. You hear a lock and Tangerine disappears into your building again. All you can do is bury your face in your hands and cry.

Later, Tangerine is pacing his room. He hasn't changed out of his bloody clothes and he hasn't calmed down since they'd showed you to the guest room.

You'd asked to be alone and while that was understandable, he's worried sick. Lemon is sitting on his bed, which would usually annoy him because he'd made it that morning, but Tangerine couldn't care less about that right now.

"I basically slammed the door in her face! How could I have done that?" he's obviously panicking.

"You had to come help me clean the scene. You did the only thing you could think of," Lemon tries to reasons, something he's been doing for the last twenty minutes.

"I- I shut her out. She probably hates me."

"Y/n could never hate you. She loves you."

Tangerine lets out a groan of frustration and turns to look at Lemon, his eyes round. "Don't you understand that's the fuckin' problem? I love her. I fuckin' love her and I've been lying to her all these years and now she's hurt because of it. It's all fucked, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Lemon stares at his brother with a deadpan look on his face. "I cannot believe you just admitted you love her."

"Pardon?"

"You're in love with her. It's been eating at you for years now. It's fucking obvious, I just didn't think you were this self-aware," Lemon rolls his eyes and stands up.

He walks over to Tangerine and crosses his arms. "Shit, mate, what are you even doing in here? Y/n was just attacked in her home and she doesn't understand why. She's probably scared shitless and tending to her wounds all alone —

After you disappeared in here like a baby I asked if she needed help and she said no, but you aren't the only one who is her best friend. I know her. She doesn't want to be alone, you idiot, she just didn't want me. She wants you."

Tangerine feels like his heart has been beaten up to a pulp and he can barely breathe. He doesn't speak and he leaves his bedroom in a hurry.

As he walks to the guest room, he feels like he's in a daze. He knows he should but he doesn't knock on the door when he rushes in. He finds you sitting on the ground, dressed in one of his shirts he must have left in the guest room by accident, applying some alcohol to the wound on your head.

Your tears have dried but when you look at him, he sees how bloodshot your eyes are and he wants to kill those men all over again.

He doesn't speak as he crouches down and pulls you into a hug. He wraps his arms around your body and holds you tightly. He hears your small sigh as you wrap your arms around his torso. Tangerine doesn't care when you unconsciously climb into his lap and hug him closer. He nuzzles his head in your neck and kisses your exposed shoulder. He's never given you this type of intimacy and while his head is screaming at him to run from you, his heart won't let him.

"It was so scary," you whimper against him.

He cups your head with his hand as he soothes you, "I know, darlin', I know it was. I promise you're safe now. I'm here. 'm not leaving you, doll. I'm so sorry this happened," he pulls away and caresses his large hands down your face, brushing some hair from your eyes.

"Why'd you open the door, darlin'? You'know you can't open the door to strangers, mm?"

He isn't blaming you, he just wants to know.

You avoid his eyes. "I thought it was you."

Tangerine frowns.

"I think they somehow sent me a text from your phone and it said you wanted to come over and I-I said yes," you feel your cheeks burn and Tangerine anger bubbles. They'd used him to hurt you. He leans his forehead on yours as you continue. "I did think it was a little weird, but I—"

Tangerine wipes at your new tears with his thumb, interrupting you, "It's okay. You couldn't have known. I'm so sorry."

"I should have known," you whisper.

"No," he shakes his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. "I should have prepared you for something like this. Lemon and I should have warned you."

You lean your head on his chest again, your breathing harsh. "I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn't think you were killing people," you whisper and you feel Tangerine tense. He rubs his hand up and down your back.

"I-" he doesn't know what he can say to you.

You pull away and look into his eyes, "I don't want to know," you say, "not today. Not now. You can tell me later but now I want you to hold me and tell me it'll be okay." Tangerine nods, you sound a little in shock, but your voice is serious.

"And I want you to kiss me."

Your words almost knock Tangerine out.

"Fucking pardon?" he says, instantly regretting cursing.

You move to hold his cheeks in your hands, leaning in closer. You wait for him to make the first move, your heart beating as quickly as his is.

You don't care about his job, or that he'd lied to you, and you know he's probably not an honorable man like you'd wished him to be, but none of that matters because you need to feel his lips on yours.

You need to know he's here.

Tangerine closes his eyes and kisses you. His entire body feels like it's on fire and if he thinks too hard, he might combust into ashes. His hands find your waist and his head tilts so he can kiss you better.

Fuck this. He's so in love with you.

You kiss him back with more passion and he almost loses his mind. If he had lost you today he would have burned the entire world to make those men pay. Killing them would have never been enough.

You pull away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You look into Tangerine's blue eyes. You want to tell him you love him. You're in love with him. However, no words can leave your lips.

Tangerine sees your expression and wipes his thumb under your eye. He stands and pulls you up with him as he whispers, "Shh, you don't need to talk. You need sleep."

He looks at your wound again, making sure it's clean and then cups your cheeks and tilts them upwards so he has your attention. "Lemon and I are just around the hall, okay? I- I lo-," his sentence dies and he starts a new one, "I lo-oked over your injury and it shouldn't hurt that much anymore but if it does, you know where my room is."

Tangerine leans down and presses one last kiss to your lips. He pulls away and says, "You're safe now, my darlin'. Okay? Nothing will ever happen to you again. I promise."

He says it with such security, you nod again. Your lips tingle from his and you savor the moment, wrapping your arms around him. Tangerine is surprised but he kisses your head and whispers just quietly enough for you to miss it,

"I love you,"

And for the first time in his life, those three words don't stay clogged in his throat. Tangerine's shoulders relax and he sighs. One day soon he'll be able to say them loud enough that you hear him. And, hopefully, you'll say them back.

#tangerine bullet train #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine angst #tangerine fic #tangerine smut #bullet train tangerine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson #lemon and tangerine #tangerine #bullet train movie #lemon bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #bullet train lemon

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padsmoony04 · 2 months

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I'm UNWELL

Aaron Taylor Jonhson for the new Giorgio Armani fragrance 2024

#aaron taylor johnson #james potter x reader #marauders #tangerine #the marauders #james potter #JUST LOOK AT HIM #WHAT A GORGEOUS MAN #honestly what are you doing to me bro?#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #bullet train movie #aaron taylor johnson as james potter #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson imagine #aaron johnson

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queers-gambit · 5 months

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Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine oneshot #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x female!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #atj character

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bullet-train-2022 · 2 years

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Character posters for Bullet Train (2022)

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nyxvuxoa · 11 months

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Tang-"It's-illegal-to-look-this-good"-erine ⤷ Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Bullet Train, 2022 | dir. David Leitch

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mmiiho · 2 years

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god hes so fucking cool (you should watch the movie)

#bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train tangerine #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson

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nocturnest · 23 days

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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!

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