Thank god fish aren't into cash...

No, he didn't mean to come back to the coffee shop.

It's just...

It's just, from your place behind the counter, you'd taken one look at him and basically saw the sum of his soul. Perhaps that was due to your vocation - baristas see all sorts, after all - or maybe the two of you just had an impossible-to-ignore connection. Either way, you had handed him his coffee and a paper bag which had him raising his eyebrows.

"My treat. It's a croissant, I bake them myself - I do most of the heavy lifting seeing as I own this place. Looks like you could use the pick-me-up."

He hadn't been trained to withstand the conspiratorial wink that you'd given him, nor the way that your fingers brushed his as you passed the pastry over. His head had swam as he left the shop. The coffee had gone down smooth, but the croissant?

Well, it could have been down to the fact that he hadn't eaten in forty-eight hours, but it was the best goddamn thing he'd ever tasted. He'd wiped the crumbs from his mustache and sucked them off of his thumb, then tipped the bag upside down to get any leftover flakes.

It would be stupid, but he couldn't help himself. It’s the nearest touch of affection he's had for months.

Leave. It's dangerous. Don't let yourself form a connection.

He goes back. It's worth it, from the way you light up upon seeing him.

"You returned! Croissant got you hooked?"

You've got him hooked. He doesn't say as much.

"Yeah, it was really good. You've got a talent for this stuff."

The goofy grin which spreads across your face is something he wants to take a picture of and tuck in his pocket, so that he can always keep a little piece of you with him.

"Aww, thanks! You want a pain au chocolat today? People seem to like those the best."

"Yeah, but let me pay for it this time."

You shrug, not wanting to turn down a sale, and when you give him his order, your eyes widen when he shoves a wad of cash into your tip jar.

"Oh, you don't have to--"

"I insist. You make the best coffee and pastries in this city."

Ah, you beam.

And so he comes back the next day. And the next. And he knows this is stupid, so perilous, but each time he sees you it's like a shot of adrenaline to his permanently exhausted body. It's wrong to subject you to this sort of danger... but he tries to reason to himself that if anything goes wrong, he's the best person to protect you.

So now, here he is. In your coffee shop, past closing time, helping sample your baked goods. Each one of them is fantastic, and he doesn't think his tasting notes are very helpful, but you seem genuinely delighted every time he lets out an "mmm" of pleasure.

"What's better, the custard or the jam filling?" you ask.

"Both. I don't know. I can't pick, you're too good at this."

You laugh and give his foot a playful shove with your own beneath the table. Fuck. You might as well have sucker-punched him with how the breath is stolen from beneath the safety of his ribs.

"I can't keep doing this," he manages, a crack of reason breaking through the fairytale.

"Eating sweets? You're fine! You’re, like, seriously ripped, I don't think it'll--"

"No. This. Being here with you, it's not safe. I'm... I'm not a good person to be around."

You furrow your brow and then rest your chin on your hand. There's that look again, the one which sums him up in a single glance.

"Court," you say gently, because the two of you are on a first-name basis nowadays, "I walk past the police station every morning on my way here. You think I haven't seen the 'wanted' signs?"

You get up and walk round to him, cupping his face in your hands so you can meet his eyes when you speak next.

"I know, Court. About everything. All of it. And I've made a choice: I still want to have you sample my croissants, okay?"

He's glad he isn't the one standing or else your softness would bring him to his knees.

"Now," you say, when the moment has had time to sink in, "are you gonna give me vague warnings about what a bad man to be around you are, or are you gonna eat this raspberry crown?"

You take the treat from the tray and hold it to his lips. When he sucks your fingers clean of jam, he knows he's gone.

According to the intel given to them, the drugs were stashed inside a warehouse in Hackney. When the clock struck 11pm, the two assassins drove over to the location, armed with silenced pistols and backup weapons in the trunk. They parked at an inconspicuous spot that wasn’t too close to the building and sneaked their way to a back entrance door. Tangerine quietly turned the door handle, pistol in his right hand, and entered the building—Lemon was trailing right behind him.

To their surprise, they didn’t find themselves in a drug lord’s warehouse; what they saw in front of them was a small office space with beige walls and a white tiled floor. Lemon thought that he was in a reverse TARDIS-kind of situation—it was smaller on the inside.

The two men furrowed their eyebrows in pure confusion, but they still had to keep their guard up. They saw that the door to one room was open, and there was definitely a person inside. It was you, making your boyfriend Holland a cup of coffee inside the office’s break room. Tangerine silently turned to his brother and placed a finger onto his own lips. Lemon nodded in understanding.

When you stepped out of the break room, you suddenly saw two men pointing their guns right in front of you. You gasped and involuntarily let go of the steaming mug of coffee in your hand, the porcelain shattering into bits and the brown liquid seeping onto the white tiled floor. You could only stare at them with a shocked look of horror. They were finely dressed in their suits and ties, so you didn’t think of them as average house thieves. Were they hitmen sent to kill your boyfriend? Did Holland somehow screw them over or owe them a huge amount of money?

Tangerine reholstered his gun while placing his left hand up as a symbol of surrender. 

“Miss, we are not here to hurt you. My brother and I just wanna know where we are.” Tangerine turned his head to sneer at his brother. “Lemon, put the damn gun down!”

“Alright, alright! I am,” the older man affirmed, placing his own gun back into his holster.

You instinctively called out for your boyfriend. “Holland, I need you here!” you tried your best to shout in a loud but steady voice.

Holland rushed over from his office room to where you were standing. He could hear the shakiness in your voice; you usually never called out for him like that.

When he saw the two mysterious guys staring right at you, he automatically got out his own gun and disengaged the safety, pointing his weapon at them.

“You two have five seconds to tell me who you are before I blow your fuckin’ brains out!” He threatened them. 

As if on cue, Healy also walked over with his gun and stood next to Holland after he had heard all the commotion from his own office.

“That’s right, gentlemen. Better ‘fess up before your bodies hit the floor,” Healy added.

“Alright, alright! Calm your tits—no disrespect, love.” Tangerine turned to quickly address you. “We were just passing through, and now we’re clearly not in the right place.”

“And where the hell did you come from? You guys sound like you’re a long way from home,” Holland sneered.

“The fuck do you mean, mate? You lot are the foreigners here in London.” Tangerine replied.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of drugs you two snorted today, but you’re standing inside The Nice Guys Detective Agency on Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles, California. I suggest that you tell us the truth before we fly you home in wooden coffins,” Healy interjected. 

“We are, erm, private contractors who are working on a job for an important client. We were supposed to infiltrate a large warehouse in Hackney, but the back door led us here,” Lemon confessed. 

You raised your eyebrows with a frown, still confused on why they insisted that they were still in England. 

“What are your names?” you asked the two strangers.

“My name is Tangerine and he is my brother and business partner Lemon.”

“Like the fuckin’ fruit?” Holland mocked him.

“I—for all intents and purposes, yes.” Tangerine decided that it was better to bite his tongue instead of insulting the two men who were pointing their loaded guns right at his face. 

Huh. I’ve heard worse pseudonyms... Jesus, is this guy a porn star or something? Holland silently took in the extravagant sight of the Brit’s brunet curls, defined biceps, and full moustache. He has excellent taste, though, the American noted in reference to his expensive three-piece navy suit, a stack of gold rings on his fingers, and a leather watch on his wrist. Holland also liked the way his charming Cockney dialect filled his ears; he always had a thing for British accents.

“Okay, guys, can we please put the guns down? They clearly don’t want to hurt us and I really don’t want any blood to be shed today, thank you very much,” you pleaded to the two PIs.

Like clockwork, they reholstered their pistols at the same time. March and Healy were the faces and muscles of this agency, but you were the brains behind the whole operation. Ever since you started working here as their secretary, you had proved yourself to be the key to their success. Now, you were promoted to their unofficial partner and you received a third of all their earnings. 

Ever since you first met Holland during your job interview with him, he fell head-over-heels for you, and you him. Despite the fights you two had at the beginning of your relationship, he ultimately changed his ways for the better and was now happily living with you and Holly at the March house in Pasadena.

Holland breathed out a deep sigh. “Fine, I guess we’ll introduce ourselves too. I’m Private Investigator Holland March, he’s my partner PI Jackson Healy, and she’s our amazing secretary [Y/N] [Y/L/N].” He directed his hand to the two of you.

“A pleasure.” Tangerine nodded, and Lemon mirrored his brother.

Lemon took out his cell phone from his jacket’s pocket. “Damn, I’ve got zero bars in here. Do you guys have the wifi password?”

“What’s wifi? And is that a mini TV in your hands?” Healy asked.

“Wha— you don’t have wifi here? How do you even get any work done?!”

“I don’t know how you folks do business across the pond, but we run a very reputable agency ‘round here,” Healy gritted through his teeth. 

“Just leave it, Lemon. Maybe they’re just old-fashioned here,” Tangerine intervened.

“Right, so… can we use your landline then? I’ll need to call my handler and tell him that we somehow ended up in ‘LA’, as you claim,” Tangerine asked the three of you.

“Yep, there’s a phone at the front desk.” You walked the two strangers over to the red landline phone on your desk. 

“Jesus, what is this, the 70s?” Tangerine joked when he glanced at the vintage device.

“Last time I checked,” Holland snarked. 

“Wait… what’s today’s date?” Tangerine felt a pit form in his stomach.

“Today’s Thursday, December 13th,” you replied.

“And year?”

“1979…?”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” Tangerine exclaimed in frustration.

Holland grabbed the freshly printed LA Times newspaper that had arrived at the mailbox just this morning and pointed to the top of the page. “The date is right here, bud. Are you guys still jet lagged or something?”

“Holy shit… I think we went through a time travel portal,” Lemon exclaimed.

“Wha— is this a fucking prank?! Can the camera crew reveal themselves already? I’m going outside.” Tangerine stormed to the front door. When he stepped outside, he saw that he was clearly not in London anymore. The sky was still a bright blue, the temperature was too warm to be in England, the horizon was dotted with tall palm trees, and he saw a 1970s style Chevy Impala drive by him.

The Brit walked back to the office with a defeated face. “You’re right, brother. We really did travel back in time.”

Your eyes widened in fascination. You always believed that time travel was the stuff of science fiction, something reserved for your weekly Doctor Who episodes on TV.

“What year are you guys from?” you asked.

“2022,” Lemon responded.

“Wow… oh my god… that’s so far away!”

“Yeah. A lot of shit has happened over those years.” Lemon didn’t have the heart to tell you about all the terrible things that had occurred around the world since your year.

“So, how are you two gonna get back to your era?” Healy probed them.

“I really don’t know, mate. All I know is that we’re gonna get an earful from our handler if we don’t complete this mission within twenty-four hours.” Tangerine pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Tell ya what: how about we stop by my place and we can sit down and figure somethin’ out? We’ll just close early for the day,” Holland offered.

“Yeah, sure. I definitely need to sit down,” Tangerine groaned.

After locking up the office for the day, Healy offered to drive the two assassins to Holland’s house while you rode shotgun in your boyfriend's car, as usual.

The two cars parked right in front of the March residence with a bright red door.

Tangerine whistled when he saw the swanky mid-century home. “Nice place you got there, March.”

“Thanks. We’re staying here while my old house is being rebuilt,” Holland replied, not wanting to elaborate any further.

“Pssst. Leave your weapons inside the top drawer,” your boyfriend told the brothers when they entered the front door. The two men compliantly got out their guns from their holsters and placed them inside the wood drawer.

Holland called out for his daughter. “Holly, hon? Are you here?”

“Yeah, dad! I’m in the living room!” Holly had just come back from school.

The five of you walked over to where Holly was sitting on the brown leather couch.

Lemon saw the vintage TV in the room and began to silently panic. He always liked to rewatch his favorite Thomas & Friends episodes after a stressful job, but how was he going to do that now, especially since the show didn’t air in the UK until 1984?

Healy addressed the man with frosted blond highlights. “Hey bud, you still look really shaken up. Do you wanna head over to the bar with Holly and I? I’ll let these three figure something out by themselves.”

“Yeah… that’s a really good plan.” Lemon couldn’t stand to look at the outdated piece of metal anymore.

Healy then turned to talk to the young girl. “Hi Holly, your dad and [Y/N] have to talk with our client Tangerine in private. How about I take you and our new friend Lemon here to the bar? I’ll buy you guys a Yoo-hoo.”

“The hell’s Yoo-hoo?” Lemon asked.

“Just the most delicious drink you can find in a bottle.”

You and Holland said your goodbyes to them while Tangerine stayed behind. “We’ll be done by dinner time!” you reassured Holly.

———

Tangerine sat in a chair and you and Holland sat on the couch across from him. The Brit couldn’t help but notice how close you stayed next to him and how you were holding his hand.

“Are you two fucking?” Tangerine blurted out the first thing he thought of.

“First of all, don’t talk to my girl like that, and second, yes, we are dating.” Holland raised his voice.

“My apologies. I have an impulsive temper; and cheers, you two are a beautiful couple,” Tangerine admitted.

Within the thirty or so minutes that he got to know you and Holland, he was already strongly attracted to you both. He admired your natural, ethereal beauty and the soft curves of your gorgeous body, plus your boyfriend’s handsomely scruffy looks and his impeccable sense of fashion—pretty similar to his own.

For Tangerine, his work never allowed him to have the freedom to fully express himself. Sure, he had some occasional flings and witnessed some wild sex parties during some of his jobs, but he never had time to find someone that he truly liked. He knew he was different when he and Lemon went to a strip club to investigate the kidnapping of one of their dancers; he got bricked up when he saw an incredibly handsome male stripper grinding on the pole. He told Lemon that he had to do a line of coke in the restroom to clear his head, but he was actually furiously jerking himself inside a stall. Whatever the fuck happened to being a professional? He scolded himself afterwards.

You saw that Holland was feeling antsy as he sat next to you. He was bouncing his right leg and he let go of your hand to rub his clothed thigh back and forth.

“Holland, baby, what are you thinking about, hmm? Tell us,” you gently probed him.

Holland was no stranger to the concept of “free love”. His late wife Rosie was his high school sweetheart, and they experimented with polyamory during the early years of their marriage. They had their fun, but they stopped when their baby girl Holly got older. They had confessed to each other that they were both bisexual and promised to take each other’s secret to the grave, as it was still a time of extreme prejudice and discrimination. After Rosie’s death, Holland had hooked up once with his best friend Jackson Healy after a drunken night out to celebrate a successful case closing, but they both decided that it felt more right to remain friends and business partners. When Holland started dating you, he revealed to you one night with teary eyes that he loved both men and women. You tightly embraced him and promised him that it didn’t make a difference to you; you loved every side of him and vowed to protect him for as long as you lived.

He had previously discussed the idea of a threesome with you, but it never moved beyond the initial conversation—until now. This was his chance for his fantasy to finally become a reality.

“Honey, do you remember that discussion we had the other week about, uh, adding a third?” Holland murmured to you.

“Mmhm,” you hummed with a smile.

“Do you want… him to be our third?”

Tangerine silently listened to your discussion with widened eyes and raised eyebrows. He was extremely flattered to hear that both you and Holland were attracted to him, and the feeling was definitely mutual.

“Why don’t we ask him?” you proposed. 

You turned to face the curly-haired brunet. You weren’t one to mince your words, so you said it outright. 

“Tangerine, would you like to have a threesome with us? We find you to be really sexy and would love to have some fun with you today.” You gave him a flirty smile.

The Brit exhaled a deep breath. He couldn’t believe that his worst day of the month just turned into the best.

“My god, wow! I am truly honored by your invitation, love. I’m definitely down, but shouldn’t we establish some rules beforehand?”

“Yeah, we’ve already discussed this before, so I’ll just tell you now,” Holland responded.

“Before you ask, yes, I give you permission to fuck my girlfriend—not that she needs permission—and you should. She’s got the best fucking pussy in the entire world!”

“Holland!” you scolded him for his crudeness.

“What? I’m only saying it ‘cause it’s true.”

Tangerine sweetly called out your name. “You are a dream come true, darling. What about your little boyfriend over here?”

“Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of guys before. Although, I don’t wanna do the rimjob stuff today; it’s been a while, you know,” Holland admitted.

“Right on, handsome. I’ve never actually been with a guy before, so this’ll be a new experience for me,” Tangerine replied.

“Oh, shit! We’ve gotta welcome you to the club then! C’mon, let’s go to the bedroom,” Holland addressed you both. 

———

When you led Tangerine to the bedroom you shared with Holland, you three wasted no time in undressing yourselves. Tangerine went to put his expensive rings and watch on your nightstand before joining you again. You unbuttoned the Brit’s vest and crisp button up shirt, Holland unzipped your trousers and slid it down your thighs, and Tangerine undid Holland’s necktie with expert precision.

When all of your clothes went into a haphazard pile on the floor, you aimlessly rubbed your hands all over Tangerine’s firm abs, enjoying the delicious feeling of his defined muscles. You were curious about the symbol on the gold pendant necklace around his neck, but you probably weren’t going to get an answer from a man who couldn’t even tell you his real name.

Holland had stopped wearing his own wedding ring necklace after you moved in. It now permanently sat inside a picture frame on the bedroom’s bookshelf, enclosed right next to a photo of him and Rosie at their wedding.

You sat down on the edge of the King-sized bed, with Holland on your left and Tangerine on your right. The man on your left licked his lips, while the one on your right ran his hand through his now-disheveled hair.

“C’mon, don’t be shy, guys. Take what you want,” you teased them both.

With your permission, they both dove into either side of your neck. Tangerine sucked on the base of your neck, while Holland tasted the skin beneath your jaw, where he knew you were the most sensitive. You grinned at the two men’s moustaches tickling your skin, and you placed both hands around the back of their necks. 

“Wait wait wait, don’t make me wear a scarf all day tomorrow.” 

The two men opened their eyes and stopped kissing your neck. You leaned back and slowly pushed the two men together by their necks.

Holland was the one to initiate the kiss. He tilted his head, caressed both sides of his guest’s face with his large hands, and went right for his lips. Tangerine moaned at this new sensation and they tasted each other with a searing intensity. Holland bit the other man’s lower lip and Tangerine groaned in both pain and pleasure. You let go and watched the both of them learn each other’s bodies with a wicked grin on your face. 

After a while, Holland pulled away from his lover, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths, to give you attention again. He wrapped his arms around your chest and gave you a deep, loving kiss. You straddled his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his cock harden around your unclothed cunt. Your boyfriend moaned into your mouth when you grinded your dripping folds against him.

Tangerine was staring at you both with his now-painfully hard cock. He was in awe of how madly in love you two were. He selfishly wished that he could just ignore the contract he had promised to fulfill and stay in your bed for the rest of the week. 

You pulled away from Holland’s lips, gave him a chaste peck on his cheek, and moved to where Tangerine was sitting on the bed. 

“Can I kiss you, handsome?” You looked up into his beady, blue eyes. 

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” He smirked at both your siren-like sexiness and your sticky sweet adorableness. 

You wrapped your arms around the Brit’s neck and kissed him slowly and tenderly, almost as if it was your first date with him. Tangerine initially felt hesitant to enjoy another man’s girlfriend, but he quickly melted into your soft touch and savored the heavenly sensation of your lips against his.

“Can I eat you out, sweetness? I just wanna taste all of you,” The man asked against your lips.

“Go ahead.” You grinned.

“This is gonna be fun!” Holland interjected. You rolled your eyes at him.

You lay down on the soft bed while Tangerine went onto his stomach. He spread your legs open and went down to breathe in the intoxicating, musky scent of your slick. He placed both your legs onto his shoulders and began to suck on your inner lips. He tasted your salty skin before pushing his wet tongue inside you. You cried at the sudden fullness and his cock twitched in anticipation. He expertly moved his tongue in different patterns inside your walls, licking up all of your essence. 

“Try sucking on her clit. That’s what really gets her goin’,” Holland blurted while lazily stroking his own cock. 

“Mate, this isn’t a bloody baseball game,” Tangerine snarked. He gave you an apologetic kiss to your inner thigh before tasting you again. 

As annoyed as he was with the other man, Tangerine did try to suck on your clit with his slick-drenched lips. 

“Mmpfh, just like that, Tange. Don’t stop,” you cooed.

Feeling motivated by your compliment, he sucked even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your throbbing clit. You wrapped your thighs around his face, wanting to feel him as deep as possible inside you. He lavished your bud over and over again until the pressure inside you burst.

“Oh my god!” you cried intensely, and the man at your cunt happily lapped up all of your cum with his tongue. 

“Fucking delicious, sweetheart, but we ain’t done yet. Still need to open ya up,” Tangerine crooned and went up to caress your face with his large hand. 

He descended back to your cunt and slowly placed two of his thick fingers into your entrance. You screamed in ecstasy and lifted your hips off of the bed, trying to grind yourself against his digits. He deeply thrusted in and out of your sopping cunt, and you covered your mouth with your palm to not alert any of your neighbors. 

He curled his fingers when he found your G spot and rubbed your pulsing clit with his thumb. Unlike your Holland, Tangerine wasn’t as tender with you. He didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy another person’s intimacy, but the assassin still paid close attention to his actions so that he wouldn’t hurt you.

You came once again with a muffled cry into your hand when Tangerine rubbed your clit in just the right way, and you clenched hard around his digits. 

“Christ, you’re so fucking tight around me, love. I don’t know how my cock is gonna survive this.” He chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple.

He slid his hand out of your spent cunt and licked his fingers clean. It was the most divine flavor he had tasted in a very long time. 

As you lay there to catch your breath, the Brit turned to the American. Tangerine looked at Holland’s blushing red cock and his mouth salivated. 

“You wanna get your cock sucked by a guy for the first time?” Holland shamelessly teased him.

“Only if it was anyone but you…” Tangerine bemoaned sarcastically. 

It was now Holland’s turn to lie down on his stomach. He leaned his head down and grabbed Tangerine’s still-hard cock with his right hand, giving it languid strokes. With a wet lick of his lips, he took in the other man’s length deep into his eager throat.

“Ooof, yeah, there we go, love. Just like tha’.” He grabbed Holland’s wavy blond hair and guided him further down his cock. Your boyfriend whimpered against his length in reaction, and your cunt started to leak again after hearing him. You squeezed your thighs together; you were so turned on by Holland sharing his love with the mysterious, time-traveling stranger.

Holland bobbed his mouth up and down his cock, tasting his sweat and salty precum. He grinded his own cock against the bedsheets at the same time.

“Oy, that’s enough, playboy. As much as I'd love to cum in your mouth, I gotta attend to your girl.” Tangerine pulled on the blond man’s strands again.

Holland pulled his mouth off of the brunet’s cock and wiped the drool off of his lips with a big smile. 

“You got any condoms ‘round here? I usually don’t fuck in the middle of a mission.”

Holland ran a little too quickly to open the nightstand drawer and took out a gold foil packet to give it to Tangerine. He ripped it open, slid the condom over his still-hard length, and threw the packaging into the trash can next to the nightstand.

“Baby, why don’t you get on all fours and we’ll get on either side of you?” Holland softly addressed you.

“Mmm, that sounds really good.” You grinned and bit your lower lip.

You moved to the middle of the bed and did exactly what your lover asked, giving Tangerine a full view of the curves of your ass. 

The Brit gave you a teasing slap to your right cheek and watched the soft flesh jiggle. He slid his cock up and down your dripping cunt before fully entering you.

You loudly moaned at the addictive fullness inside you. Tangerine was girthier than your Holland and had a slight upwards curve.

“That’sss it, darling. Take me all in,” he encouraged you. “You’re bloody right, March. She does have the best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had.”

“I never lie about my girl,” Holland responded with a chuckle.

He moved to kneel in front of you, his thick erection right in your face. You held onto the base with your hand and began to suck on his sensitive tip, running your tongue over the opening.

Holland let out a throaty growl. “Always so perfect for me, angel.” He ran his hand through your hair, silently encouraging you to continue sucking him. 

At the same time, Tangerine thrusted into you at an intense pace, causing you to shove Holland’s cock deeper into your throat and whimper against him.

Another wicked idea came to Holland’s mind. He reached over to caress Tangerine's face once more and made out with him as he was fucking your face. 

You could hear the wet, smacking sounds of their lips from above you. God, did you wish that you had another pair of eyes at the back of your head.

Tangerine pulled away from the heated kiss to reach around your hip and give calculated rubs to your aching clit. You squeezed again and again around his length. You came once again as he still fucked into your tired cunt. When Holland felt you groan against his own cock, he was so close to bursting inside your warm throat.

“Ahh, fuck! I’m gonna cum soon, baby. Can I cum inside your throat?” 

You looked up at him with adoring eyes and nodded your head. When his dazzling blue eyes met yours, he came right into your throat. You eagerly swallowed all of his cum and pulled your mouth out of his dick to lick up the dripping excess from his tip.

Tangerine’s head felt dizzy with euphoria when he watched the incredibly hot sight in front of him. He pulled out of you and removed the condom from his length, quickly throwing it into the trash can. He roughly stroked himself until hot ropes of cum spilled onto the small of your back. He groaned at the erotic, almost artistic sight of his ribbons of white cum against your sweaty, glistening skin.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, that’s a beautiful sight right there,” Tangerine moaned. “You gonna clean her up, loverboy?”

Holland let out a dry chuckle, tilted his head, and raised an amused eyebrow. He lay down on his stomach and darted out his tongue to press onto your body. 

“Ahh, fuck!” You started to moan softly and your tired cunt began to clench around thin air when you felt Holland lick hot, wet stripes across your skin, swiping his tongue up to taste all of Tangerine’s essence. You pressed your face into the sheets, your lips ghosting the fabric.

“There’s a good boy,” the assassin crooned.

“Shut the fuck up before I kick you out of this house,” Holland snarked back. He then placed a chaste kiss onto your lower back, almost as an apology for being rude to your treasured guest who just made you cum three times in an hour. 

“Come here, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Holland’s hands gently grabbed you by your waist, pulling you up to rest on top of him. You laid your head over his heart and rested your hand on his chest.

He directed his gaze towards the curly haired man. “Why don’t you join us, Orange?”

“You’re really lucky that I find you and your girl to be incredibly hot,” Tangerine snarked before joining the cuddle pile. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle against Holland’s chest. “Play nice with our guest, Holls.”

Tangerine lay beside you, snaked an arm around your hips, and pressed his chin against your shoulder blade. He softly moaned when he breathed in the sweet, heady combination of your shampoo, perfume, and sweat. You three held onto each other and rode out the dopamine drop together. You were in your own little paradise—free of judgment, free of rules, free of guilt.

———

After blissfully lying there for a while, you invited them both to join you in the shower. It was almost hilarious how the two men tried to squeeze into the bathtub with you in the middle. Holland excitedly rubbed soap bubbles onto your breasts while Tangerine kneeled to carefully wash your sensitive pussy and your heavenly soft thighs.

Afterwards, you three helped each other to dry off and redress in the day’s clothes. You went back to the living room and lazily watched TV with both men sitting on either side of you.

After thirty minutes, you heard the door unlock. Healy, Lemon, and Holly were back from their hangout at the bar. Even though Holly was technically not allowed to be at the establishment, the bar owner knew Healy and March by name and always kept a case of Yoo-hoo for her.

“‘Sup, guys? How was the bar?” Holland turned his head.

“It was splendid! We had a lotta fu— I mean frickin’ hilarious conversations.” Lemon was a cold assassin, but he still wanted to respect the young girl standing next to him.

“What are your thoughts on our two new friends, mate?” Tangerine asked his brother.

“Well, Healy here is a Henry: hardworking, strong, and no-nonsense, and Miss Holly is an Emily: smart, caring, and fearless.” Lemon enthusiastically explained.

Healy looked at the couch and raised a curious eyebrow but said nothing. He saw that you three still had wet hair and Holland’s tie was slightly crooked. Oh, to be young and in love again…

“So… did you guys come up with a plan on how these two are gonna go home?” Healy asked you three.

Tangerine coughed into his fist. “Right, yeah… we discussed a lot of possibilities, and basically, we believe that the only way we can return home is to go through that back entrance door again.” Both you and Holland nodded and silently thanked him for covering all three of your asses. 

“I see. Well, better get to it then,”

“How about [Y/N] and I take these two back to our office and you stay with Holly? I don’t want you guys to get sucked into the whole time travel portal thing too.” Holland nervously replied.

“Good idea, March. We’ll be eagerly waiting to hear from you.” Healy nodded.

Lemon and Tangerine said their goodbyes to Healy and Holly, got their weapons back, and the four of you walked to Holland’s car and drove back to the office. When you all faced the back door again, you held onto Holland’s arm while you watched the two brothers approach the portal. 

“Thank you two for everything, really. I had a really great time today.” Tangerine gave you a quick, cheeky wink and you nodded with a big smile on your face.

“Take care, you two, and have a Merry Christmas!” You waved at them. 

“You too, love. Until we meet again!” Tangerine felt a tinge of sadness in his chest, but he’d never forget the kindness that you and Holland showed him today.

When the brothers walked through the door, they were greeted with the dark London midnight sky again.

“Aha! We’re finally back!” Lemon shouted excitedly.

“Shhh! Nah, bruv. We’ve still got a mission to do, remember?” Tangerine aggressively whispered back. 

“Oh, right. Should we check to see if the portal’s still open?” Lemon whispered back.

Tangerine turned around to face the door once more. As much as he wanted to go back to your year, he still had a lot of work to do. He slowly opened the door to see that your office had been replaced with the real, dingy warehouse. He got out his gun and nodded to Lemon. It was time to finish the job. 

10 fallen bodies later, the assassins finally cleared out the warehouse. When Tangerine called his handler to tell him about the successful completion, he learned that his next mission was going to be on a bullet train headed from Tokyo to Kyoto. My life is just full of surprises, isn’t it? the man wondered.

———