lane

Tangerine X Reader

Summary: you’re just trying to relax on the train ride from Tokyo to Kyoto after a grueling mission. Of course, you get entangled with the twins in the White Death. Previous interactions with Tangerine haunt you as he accuses you of stealing the case.

Part two

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive content, minor violence CANON DIVERGENCE!!!

A/N: there’s a quick little something I wrote, because I’m so obsessed with Tangerine right now lol. Thank you for the love on my last fic as well!! Also, this is literally not proofread like at all so bear with me here. :)))

As you sit on the train, you can’t be bothered to pay attention to passing faces. That is, until you see two men walk by, with a third seeming to be only half-conscious.

You’re on your way back from an assignment in Tokyo. It was a pretty standard mission, plant explosives under the bed in a hotel room that an influential figure would be staying in, then cover your tracks. The mission went off without a hitch, and now you’re trying to relax on the train to Kyoto to catch your flight, but things just got slightly more complicated.

You recognize the two upright men as the twins, having worked in orbit with them in the industry. You were never too fond of them, seemingly cocky bastards who always found a way to screw up your jobs when they were around. You had more gripes with the one called Tangerine however.

A couple of years ago you were on an assignment in Warsaw. It was a difficult job, requiring you to rob Poland’s national bank in an effort to find a certain vault and three antique necklaces within the vault. You had successfully entered the bank, and even opened the vault, but standing inside, and holding the necklaces was Tangerine, lighting up a cigarette between his lips. When he saw you, he made his exit. Brushing past you at the door of the vault, flicking his cig onto you, and turning the corner with a cocky: “Little late love. Too bad you aren’t as quick as you are gorgeous, maybe you could’ve finished the job first.”

You stand in the vault fuming. As far as you know, you hadn’t tripped any alarms on the way in, however, the intruder alarm begins to wail as you stand at the door to the large vault. The bastard tripped the alarm to frame you, and make his grand escape to the getaway car that Lemon was waiting in. 

You had scaled the walls, hiding in an air duct for hours to avoid the guards that were searching for you, all thanks to Tangerine using you as a fall guy.

And here you sit, three rows down from him and his brother on the train. You don’t think they’ve noticed you yet, and you’re not sure if Tangerine would recognize you anyways, you’ve changed your hair, you’re wearing sweats, not the type of clothes you’d wear on a mission, and you only ever interacted in passing. You decide to just stay quiet and hope they don’t realize who you are. All you wanted was a quiet ride to the airport, and now you’re stuck on this train with the two dickhead twins who always ruin your missions.

A while after the train begins to move, you watch the one you know to be Lemon make his way to the baggage storage compartment between cars. As he passes you keep your head down. You then feel a rush of air as Tangerine swiftly walks past to join him. You can hear them shouting at each other and begin to worry. If something went wrong for their assignment, and they see you, you will inevitably be blamed for it. You decide to try and hide your face and keep your eyes down as to not raise any concerns from the two.

You hear the door open back up as the two strut back down the aisle to where they had been sitting. You can’t see their faces as they pass, but you watch the one in back stop and pause just before your seat. Fuck.

“Well hello there love. It’s been quite a fuckin minute hasn’t it?” It’s Tangerine. You watch a hand reach for your chest, holding a small pistol. “You trying to fuck up our assignment or something? Little payback for the past?” He accuses. You find the courage to raise your eyes to meet his piercing gaze. He’s staring at you looking as if he’ll explode from anger.

“Listen dude, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. I’m not on an assignment right now, I’m just trying to get home from one.” You try and reason, the gun pointed at you making it hard to stay level-headed.

His pistol presses harder into your chest. You become increasingly aware of how close he is to you, feeling yourself flush. Not the fucking time. You can’t believe this is turning you on right now. You hate this guy but the danger of the situation and body heat radiating from him is working against you, distracting you from the anger written on his furrowed brow.

After glancing around your surroundings, and taking stock of your bags, he looks slightly defeated.

“Not sure I believe you, but I would’ve noticed if your fucking gorgeous self had gotten up and walked through this train to steal it.” He mutters, pulling the pistol away from you. You sigh in relief. “Plus that blush on your face proves I caught you off guard” He adds

You feel yourself flush a deeper red, and he huffs a small laugh.

You pull a paper briefing of your previous assignment out of your pocket, showing him the date completed and details “Happy now asshole? I don’t enjoy being called a liar.” you ask pointedly.

He nods briefly. “Alright fine.” he resigns. “Have you seen anyone walk by, love?” He lowly questions. His eyes shift around, taking in the other passengers on the train. You shake your head, mumbling something of the negative. “Alright Angelface, I’ll let you enjoy the ride to wherever you’re going. Just don’t get any bright ideas and try to fuck with us. I won’t hesitate to fucking kill you.” he squeezes your shoulder, slightly patronizingly, then returns to his brother.

After a few minutes, the twins walk back through the train to the storage area, discuss something, and then split. Tangerine walks back up to your seat.

“Listen, I know I said I’d leave you be, but shit is about to get fucking rowdy, so I recommend you get off at the next stop. Find a different train or something.”

“Tangerine, what do you think I do for a living, I’m used to rowdy I can handle it.” you retort.

“Black Death’s involved.” he states plainly. “Someone on this train is trying to fuck us all over, my brother and I got a case full of 10 million dollars stolen right out of our fucking hands. And on top of it all, the White Death’s son is fucking dead over there.” He stares at you, gauging your reaction.

Your face falls. Your heart drops. You’ve heard horrific stories about the White Death, and now you’ve gotten yourself entangled in it all. “Oh fuck.” Is all you reply.

“Right. So if you don’t want to get screwed by the White Death, and have that on your record, get the fuck off this train.” He firmly states. The train begins to slow as you weigh your options.

“And if I stay?” you coyly ask.

The train doors open. “Then either help, or stay out of the fucking way.”

You nod. You know the train is only stopped for a minute, if that. You know you don’t have time to leave now, so you decide to help. “Doors are about to close, huh. I suppose I’ll help you out. Maybe if I join you and your brother, will stop fucking with all of my missions.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off princess, you know that’s nothing personal, only business.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. The pet names he insists on using are slowly getting to you. His offhand flirting beginning to melt you. Maybe working with him to get out of this won’t be so bad….

He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. “Come on. There’s a cunt bag in the bar we need to investigate.” You stare up at him as you walk. In all your hatred of him in the past, you never realized how truly handsome he is. God he has a great walk. 

You reach the car with the bar in it and open the door. Inside is a very normal looking man. You wonder if this is who you’re looking for when Tangerine holds up his phone, revealing a tracker he has on the man. The man looks vaguely concerned, and then Tangerine grabs him, and starts beating the shit out of him. You join the effort, taking a few swings at the man as well as opening a cabinet right into his face. Suddenly an attendant walks into the room with her cart full of snacks ready to be replenished. She asked if any of you would like anything, and the two men shake their heads.

“Actually, I’ll take a soda please.” Pointing to a specific one on her cart. The man with the blonde hair sighs as the three of you wait for her to pull one out of her cart. She tells you how much it will cost, and you pretend to search your body for your wallet, knowing you left it in your backpack in the other train car. You sigh exaggeratedly, and look at Tangerine.

“Oh, my bad. I left my money in the other car. Do you mind covering it Tangerine?” you ask, gazing up at him for your lashes rather flirtatiously. he rolls his eyes and shells out the money.

“You’re lucky that you’re so pretty” he states bluntly. you chuckle as your drink about half the bottle. The lady with the cart leaves, and you chuck your bottle at the blonde man’s head. The fight continues intensely until Tangerine has the man pinned, and his phone begins to ring.

“Hey Tan, you gonna get that?” you tease, standing above the two.

“No!” he shouts.

“Could be important.” The blonde man states.

“Okay, maybe it is important.” Tangerine resigns. and gets off of the blonde man.

You take the opportunity to finish the blonde man off. Effectively knocking him unconscious as he lays on the floor in the train car.

Tangerine explains what the call said, and that he’s screwed if he can’t find Lemon in the next thirty seconds.

“I could be Lemon.” you state plainly. “ I didn’t know what he looked like before now, so I doubt they will.”

Tangerine stares at you for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah, alright.”  he states. He hands you the blonde man’s jacket, to attempt to hide your sweatsuit. you rush out the door as the train slows to a stop. The White Death’s men look at you suspiciously, deciding to believe the two of you are twins. You walk back inside as Tangerine does some smooth talking and slips back onto the train at the very last second.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that shit worked.“ you state incredulously. A wide grin is slapped onto your face.

“What a bunch of stupid fucks. The White death should kill them just for being idiots.” Tangerine responds with a laugh. You launch yourself into his arms, embracing him before you’re aware of what you’re doing. As soon as it happens, you pull away.

Staring at him with white eyes, you vehemently apologize. “Oh my God I’m so sorry that was so inappropriate I won’t…” He cuts you off with a kiss. You are startled for a moment, and then return the kiss. You continue the kiss as his hands find your hips. His thumb rubs back-and-forth on your waist. The simple touch melts you into him as the kiss deepens. 

he walks you back towards the counter of the bar top. He cages you against the surface as you slowly lean back. He’s now over you as the two of you make out intensely. you wonder how you got here. Everything was so sudden. You just thought you couldn’t stand you and wanted to fuck with all of your missions. Maybe that interaction with the pistol earlier affected him too.

His hand glides lower. Just as it is about to reach where you want it most, Lemon bursts through the doorway.

“Fuck me mate, Jesus! Go to the bathroom and do that shit or something. Or you could just keep it in your pants, y’know.” Lemon comments in shock.

You think you’re blushing harder now than you were earlier.

Part Two here!!!

SUMMARY | sometimes the only way to get the twins to shut up is to shove food in one of their mouths

PAIRING | tangerine x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNINGS | spoilers for bullet train

WORD COUNT | 1k+

AUTHORS NOTES | tangerine has my heart and soul confirmed

🍊 Masterlist 🍊 Navigation 🍊 Rules 🍊

This was the third time in the past half hour that you had to deal with their bickering.

A whisper of a curse leaves your lips as the book you were holding a moment ago clatters to the floor, spine split open and pages bent. Honestly, the sight of something so valuable in such a position hurts worse than the paper-cut said book (a second edition Wilde) had just bestowed upon you.

“Y’alright down there, love?”

Tangerine is up on the ladder, a few metres away. In his perfectly tailored suit, sans jacket which sits discarded on his favourite wingback chair in the corner, he’s reshelving a few misplaced titles. It’s been a year, almost, since he first walked into your little shop and he’s come to be something of a fixture in the place.

“Just a scratch,” you tell him, glancing up. The way the low yellow light catches him at this angle, and the way he’s rolled up his shirtsleeves to expose lean and tattooed arms, emphasizes his beauty. “Not worth ruining the view.”

“Fuckin’ perv,” Tangerine lets out a low laugh, the insult hurled lovingly in your direction. He comes down the ladder regardless, jumping from the fourth rung and landing lightly in crisp brown leather shoes.

When he takes your hand in his, you pretend to roll your eyes, focused on the way his larger hand quite neatly engulfs your own. A brush of his lips against your small cut is enough to make you feel warm, never mind the tickle of his mustache against your palm.

“I know my arse is distracting, love,” he mumbles against your skin, “But can’t have you damaging these perfect fuckin’ fingers.”

You scoff, leaning into him. He lets it happen, the smell of your perfume like a bloody drug, he thinks. Fuckin’ hell, he’s addicted.

“So lovely,” you smirk, eyeing the Wilde from the corner of your eye, “You make everyone think you’re so wicked, but you’ve been good this whole time. What dreadful hypocrisy.”

Tangerine’s eyebrows knit together in an emotive expression, intense interest. His bright blue eyes darken and there’s a twitch beneath his mustache, a turning up of his lips as his tongue darts out to dampen them. He’s turned on—possibly by the fact that you’ve called him good, possibly by the fact that you’re quoting Oscar Wilde at him, but, likely enough, both.

a short little something that's more feelings than plot 🌻 18+ for language, blood/injury, and mentions of drinking and sex

After Istanbul, you hoped you'd never see Tangerine ever again. Mind, that likely meant also not seeing Lemon, but such sacrifices had to be made.

And then, after Lagos, you swore that if you ever laid eyes on that moustache again, there weren't enough bullets in the world with which you'd be able to express your distaste for the man in the golden rings and designer suits.

And then, in Toronto, you very nearly decided to just throw a grenade (quite literally) on your entire mission when you heard that smarmy fucker greet you. In fact, had Lemon not very astutely put a glass of wine in your hand, you may have not been made it to be here.

Here.

Here, in Ho Chi Minh City with a cold bowl of phở on the tiny desk of your cramped hotel room and a profusely bleeding gunshot wound in your right arm. The soup bothers you more than the injury, but neither bother you as much as the man knelt in front of you, his knees buckled in the threadbare carpet as he leans into you from between your legs, his large hands surprisingly delicate as he changes your bandages.

"That fuckin' bullet was meant for me, you fuckin' muppet," Tangerine frowns, deep lines etched into his forehead as he runs a towel over your arm, the scratchy fibres coming away stained red. "Shoulda never fuckin' been here but you can't stop getting in my bloody way like some goddamn—"

"Oh, for shit's sake, shut up." Finally, after biting your tongue so hard you can nearly taste the metallic twinge of blood, you speak. "Last time you were shot, you nearly fucking died—" He glances up, seemingly shocked that you know this, but even if Lemon hadn't told you, the scar on his neck is story enough.

Tangerine opens his mouth to respond, but, to your immense and immeasurable surprise, simply closes his lips into a tight line with a heavy sigh, returning to the task of bandaging you up.

Y/N: Okay, I'm going to get the wedding cake.

Tangerine: Perfect, while you do that I'll check on the ring bear.

Y/N:...

Y/N: You mean ring bearER, right?

Tangerine:...

Y/N: Oh Tan, we have a visitor!

Tangerine: Don't tell me it's Lemon.

Y/N, happily: It's Lemon.

- Tangerines are sophisticated.

- Oh, now he’s callin’ a fruit sophisticated.