#tangerine x y/n smut

[my-beloved-ghosts-and-me]

YOU'RE THE QUEEN OF THE KINGDOM THAT HAS MY WHOLE HEART

꒰ synopsis: fate has a weird way of working and you still can fully understand the way everything it's delicately interconnected

꒰ content warnings: nsfw (18+), fem!reader, smut, masturbation, male pov, fem pov, breeding kink if you squint, rough sex, making love, virgin reader (at one scenario), Tangerine is a bit of an asshole, emotionally constipated idiots

author's note: this is probably bad, english it's not my first language, no beta we die like men, im still simping about a motherfucker called Tangerine, lalalas

Tangerine knew that there was no such thing as an easy job, but Jesus Christ nobody ever told him that things could be this fucking difficult.

Lemon warned him. His brother, god bless his good soul, tried to talk his way out of this ridiculous job, but Tangerine didn't listen to him. Maybe he truly was a Gordon after all.

At first, the decision seemed easy. Rescue the White Death's son and bring back the ransom money for a great payment or rescue Tora's sister and keep a job as a nanny in a luxurious house without having to worry about anything but your safety until your brother himself kill the motherfucker who decided to mess with his remaining family for a marvelous payment.

Lemon thought the second option was too easy, too good to be true. Turns out fate really was on their side because the White Death's mission was some kind of trap and everything went to shit. From what they heard, they were going to be dead if they accepted that job.

And now here he was.

Sitting in a ginormous comfortable chair with a fantastic book that he got from your bookcase trying to read while you and Lemon were on the couch talking excitedly about an anime that you convinced him to watch saying that in exchange you would watch all the twenty-four seasons of Thomas the Tank Engine.

He didn't know how much longer he could handle this situation with sanity in his mind, but with how much your brother was paying just for them to keep you safe inside your house he knew he would rather eat his right hand out of his body than mess this up. Even because Lemon, that traitor, was having the time of his life. Every day since the second half of the first week in your house, Lemon says he's grateful for Tangerine accepting the job. The easiest job of their life. And the higher-paying too.

Maybe, just maybe, if Tangerine was a little bit less of a professional this actually would be the easiest job in his life. A beautiful house in the middle of a forest that looks like a scenario out of the fucking Twilight movie that you made Lemon watch in exchange for that one cartoon with the human and the dog, his brother is happy that he finally got a friend to share his interests, a good payment at the end of every month, not even one day of violence since the beginning of this job and you.

The level of frustration and violence running wild in his body is not comprehensible, right?

Everything was just perfect.

.

.

.

Except Tangerine wanted to bend you on every surface in sight and fuck you dumb on his cock at every opportunity. It was the first time he tried to resist the impetus to take something that he wanted and maybe Lemon was right and he should have seen a therapist. But you were just so sweet, always concerned about his well-being, always smiling in the morning and making coffee for you and Lemon and tea for him, always offering yourself to moisturize his hair and asking his opinion on everything like the food you cooked or the books he's reading. It would be hard to resist nevertheless.

But again, Tangerine was a professional. The fact that your brother was one of the most dangerous mafia leaders in Eurasia and you used to date his best mate before he got murdered trying to protect you a few years ago sending your brother into a spiral of madness and cruelty was just a detail.

He didn't know your brother very well, and it was hard to gather pieces of information about him, or you for that matter, but you seemed very fond of him and even if he continued to ignore you every time you tried to reach him you didn't allow him and Lemon speak a bad word about him.

Your soft voice was distracting him from the words displayed in front of him. He didn't even recognize exactly what was being said because he was trying really hard to ignore Lemon and pay attention just to the sound of your voice. Your sweet voice. He didn't know if he was able to live without listening to you every day from now on.

Given the amount of erotic and vivid dreams he's having about you, he doesn't think he will, but physically was way better than his imagination. Although he didn't have the chance to listen to your moans and sighs in reality yet. He did listen to you beg to him once. "Please, Tangerine. Please. I promise you will enjoy it. Let's watch this movie with us." you had said. The first phrase got printed in his brain like a burn and it's almost present in every dream he has about you. You beg so prettily, pouting unconsciously just a little bit. A truly divine sight.

He could feel his cock getting hard at the memory and the annoyance building up inside him together with the hot white desire he feels for you. Why did you have to be so perfect and so good for him? Tangerine knew he would ruin you if he got the chance.

He wanted to fuck you so hard that you wouldn't be able to walk in the ridiculous aristocratic way you always do like the world knows better than demand hurry from you. He would fill you with his dick until you couldn't feel anything else, but him. No sadness, no worries, nothing. Only him and his burning love and desire for you. He would put your mouth to use and with the way you're always so careful with everything you do to him, he bet you would be a natural. He just know you would worship his cock with kisses battling your long lashes at him until he couldn't take any more teasing and started to fuck your mouth with wild abandon like the madman he is. And you would let it because you would be so good to him.

Given the chance, he would kiss you for hours. Slow kisses, steamy makeouts, soft pecks after fucking your brains outs. He wouldn't waste a chance to claim your lips in rough passionate kisses.

But he doesn't get a chance with pretty little things like you. He's not like your ex.

Did Tangerine know anything about your ex or the depths of your relationship? No, just the thought of you loving and touching someone that wasn't him makes him sick in the stomach. But he could tell by the way you spoke about him with Lemon sometimes that he had been different from him.

Although there's one thing that you said that stuck with him and made him think that maybe he and Draken are not that different after all. "He used to say that I was the queen of the kingdom that has his whole heart. I guess I'm in exile now huh?" You spoke softly and laughed when Lemon said he didn't understand what you meant.

Tangerine understood. He understood very well. And given the chance he would give you another kingdom to rule.

"Oh, for fuck sake, you both don't know how to shut up?" Tangerine shouts angrily out of nowhere and both you and Lemon are staring at him like he's some sort of alien.

It's not out of nowhere. He got an aching boner and if he didn't know himself any better he could say a broken heart. He denied himself too much, but you two didn't know that so it looks like out of nowhere.

Your face does show something, a brief emotion he can't read it very well, but after you press the heels of your hands against your eyes and he listens to your small quivering voice, he knows he fucked up again.

"I'm going to my room. I'll sleep early tonight. You guys feel free to stay here in the living room as long as you want okay"

His eyes followed your figure and maybe lingered a little bit on your round arse until you were leaving his sight. Tangerine wants to hug and apologize promising he'll never scream at you again, that he'll never let you sad again. But he can't so maybe it's for the better if you think he's a crazy unpredictable angry man. Like that, you'll stop treating him affectionately and will give him what he deserves from you. Nothing. He wasn't worth of you and he knows it.

Turning his head forward he comes across his brother facing him. They both keep staring at each other and Tangerine suspects Lemon knows what's up with him.

"Gordon wouldn't act like that." Lemon said with a straight face and turned around to face the TV.

If the room was a little bit more silent would be possible to listen to Tangerine's heart breaking a little more.

--x--

The cold of the night was soothing against your warm body and restless mind. You easily could see how you got yourself in this situation, but at the same time, you had no idea how you ended up like this: baking a lemon cake at two in the morning, trying to keep yourself from making a very reckless mistake that could get you in a lot of trouble.

Five years ago your first love and long-term boyfriend Draken got murdered trying to protect you. He was your brother's best friend since childhood and early in your teenage years they started a gang but things escalated quickly. An amazing duo, an unstoppable force, and delicious naive if you stop to think about it now. Nothing could ever last forever.

After your lover's death, your brother started spiraling into a darker path mentally and morally. He became a ruthless murderer, a tireless man, and crawled his way to the top distancing himself from every single person he used to hold dear, including you.

At least that was what everybody thought, but you know that's not true. Even if he refused to talk to you or answer your texts, he never blocked you. He bought you this house, a house that he knew was your dream house since you both were teenagers.

A soft laugh escapes your mouth at the memory while you finish putting the dough into the cake pan. You always said how much you would love to live like the Cullens and even if he claimed he always slept when you forced him, Draken, and the rest of your group of friends to watch Twilight in those rainy autumn evenings, you knew he was paying attention. You just knew. Just like you know he's not the monster people think he is. He's your brother and you have known him all your life.

He still keeping you safe even from afar just like he promised he would after your older brother died in your childhood. He's still your Leo. You know if you could just talk to him, face to face, you could knock some sense into him, but he never let you get close to him. Maybe he knew that too and that's why he refuses to see you but he wouldn't give up on you so you will not give up on him.

Putting the cake pan in the oven you ask yourself how you still handling life without losing your mind. Again, baking a cake in the middle of the night was not the best sign that your mind was 100%, but it's not like you are in the worst-case scenario given your history and current situation. Being a baby witch helps because gives you a sense of fate and fate brings you hope that you are not insane when you feel that everything is going to be alright sooner rather than later. Or maybe you're just delusional, but it works too.

But you didn't feel delusional. You feel like there are missing pieces to this puzzle and that's partially the reason why you awake to see dawn once again. Only partially. You don't like to admit it, but the man sleeping in the room next to yours is also a factor that contributes to your insomnia.

Sitting in the cold soft chair next to the kitchen bench, you let yourself relax a little while looking at the soft light radiating from the oven. Cake for breakfast, just like when you were a child and you had both of your brothers and nothing to worry about, but before you could drown deep in your thoughts a man appears right in front of you, and before you could scream, Lemon's hand cover your mouth and finally you're back to reality.

"What are you doing?" He asks without removing his hand from your mouth so you grab his wrist and push it down yourself.

"What does it look like I’m doing?” you ask.

Rubbing the back of his neck Lemon says a little wary. “Well, to be quite honest it looks like you're going a bit mental."

That gets your attention and your eyes finally snap up to his.

“I’m not going mental, Lemon! I’m making a lemon cake." you say trying to sound calm and composed "Clearly.”

He blinks once, twice. “A lemon cake?”

“Yes.”

“At two in the morning?” Lemon it's trying to read you right now, but he doesn't know which Thomas character he can use to understand you better nor he has watched an episode that could prepare him for this.

You pause, and then answer with a straight face: “Yes. Clearly.”

The younger fruit keeps looking at you expecting you to elaborate a little bit more, but no explanation comes out of your mouth. In the deep silence of the kitchen you both keep staring at each other. You shift your weight between your feet and keep your eyes on his waiting for something, anything, to happen and save you from this situation because you know if you don't make an excuse plausible enough, Lemon will figure you out.

Suddenly you hear a step at the stairs and you know it. He listened to you both talking and he is coming to see what this is about. That's not what you meant when you said you wanted anything to save you from this situation.

A deep voice with a thick british accent comes from behind you. "What the fuck?" Tangerine asks and you know, even without turning around, he's pissed that he got his precious sleep disturbed.

At the first month in your house, he was cranky enough, but Lemon said it was his normal self. A little bit aggressive, a little bit sarcastic, and a huge asshole, but it was his normal self after all so you didn't mind him. He's keeping you safe, he's a good brother and that's such a personal subject for you, he's intelligent and has such good taste in books. He's so unbelievably handsome too. But as time went by he got irrationally angry at little things and apparently he couldn't get a decent night of sleep in a while.

"I'm baking a lemon cake." You answer still without turning around and you're surprised that you can keep your voice calm.

"Why the fuck you would bake a lemon cake at TWO IN THE MORNING? A lemon one nonetheless. It's this some kind of fucking twisted joke? "Let's bake a lemon cake and wake Tangerine up just as he was closing his eyes after hours trying to sleep?". This fucking ridiculous, assholes. If you want to be insane at least keep it quiet." At the end of his little speech he was screaming and although you didn't know exactly what your face was showing, Lemon seemed to take pity on you and decided to speak for you.

"Tangerine, mate, you need to get help."

Oh, at least he tried.

"I need to get help? I'm the one who needs to get help? You both inconsiderate twats decided to be insane and bake a lemon cake late at night and chit-chat until you wake a poor lad trying to rest and I need to get help?" You could bet that Tangerine eye was doing that little twitch thing that always happens when he was about to get into a discussion with Lemon.

"Look, first of all: we weren't even talking that loud, but most importantly: this is her house. It may be a little weird, but there's nothing wrong about it."

You gathered courage enough to turn around and face Tangerine. You weren't scared of him, that was not the problem here. That would be too easy. You could just send a text to Leo and your brother would find someone else to protect you. The real problem was you were uncontrollably attracted to him and how could you not? The man was a god among men, handsome enough to make pornstaches sexy again. When he was angry you could see the veins in his neck popping, his face slowly reddening, his blue eyes darkening and his accent getting thicker while spitting all kinds of curses and insults. But now, in addition to these classical traits, his soft curly hair was falling around his head and he was shirtless, his waistband hanging dangerously slow.

Oh god, you hope he didn't catch your wondering eyes following the line of the hair just below his belly button into his pants.

You already touched yourself thinking of him today. Twice. Nothing new, you've been doing this for almost two months now. But three times was a new personal record.

You had just finished coming down your high when you decided that you wanted to distract your mind from wandering to him again and the best way to do this was baking a cake. But fate had other plans and now you had no choice but to touch yourself again. You honestly don't know how much you could resist the urge to get into your knees and beg to suck him for all he's worth, but if you could delay this humiliation a little bit longer, you would.

You got lost in your thoughts again and didn't realize when the shouting match between the twins started.

Your voice was small, but both of them stopped talking the moment you made yourself present in the situation. "I'm sorry, Tangerine. It was my fault. It will not happen again. Sorry for waking you too, Lemon. I just wanted to clear my mind and baking helps. Let's go back to bed, shall we?" Not a complete lie, just not the whole truth, you think to yourself hoping they would buy it.

You get up without saying anything else and walk towards the stairs hoping you can keep your walk as normal as it ever is and pray that they don't notice how much you wanna run from the kitchen. You still hear their voices from upstairs. "She was kidnapped and we have no idea what happened to her, man." Lemon said trying to defend you, but you already closed the door of your room so you couldn't know how Tangerine replied.

Your cat, Luna, was spread around your bed like she worked all day to pay the rent that was due. Your chance of trying to relieve the aching between your legs was ruined by this fur ball because you may be going a little bit mental, but you draw a line at masturbating around your pet.

Climbing to the soft surface you finally let yourself relax. Luna didn't enjoy it being disturbed, but quickly forgave you when you wrapped your arms around her and started caressing her ears. Feeling the soft fabric of your nightgown and the warmth of your cat around your chest, you started to succumb to the tiredness and the dark even if the desire running through your veins didn't vanish as you would liked to.

Maybe if he wasn't hired by your brother to look out for you or maybe if he actually could develop a relationship with you, but most importantly maybe if he didn't hate your guts for no reason... Maybe if wasn't for that you could try despite the odds. But all you can do right now it's wish for good dreams.

And this was your last thought before falling asleep.

--x--

In the silence of his room, laying in his bed, Tangerine knew he couldn't deny himself any longer. Your flimsy nightgown and perky nipples because of the cold night were his last straw.

He could feel his member in his hand, hot, pulsing, and begging for relief inside his pants.

God knows how much he tried to avoid this from happening because he knows once he lets his mind succumb just a little to the thought of you he will need more and more and soon just thinking about you will not be enough. But now it's over. His cock was throbbing so much and was desperately needing release.

Every goddamn time you made him hard he tried touching himself picturing another woman, but every time it was you that he was imagining you without him even noticing what he was doing. When Tangerine switched back to another woman he became almost instantly soft. It was driving him to the brink of madness and he couldn't deny himself any longer.

He was so eager to finally give in that he didn't even know where to begin with. Should he let you take the lead and be the sweet little thing he knows you are and be all soft and small kisses before giving in to desire shyly and slowly or should he take the lead and ravish you without mercy making you succumb to him faster and messier?

He wants to go down on you, that's for sure, but he can't decide between exploring your body slowly, anticipating you when he finally starts to eat you out, or going straight to the place he dreamed of for almost three months now and devour you until he was satisfied.

"Fucking hell, I need to slow down or I'll come and I didn't even decide exactly how I'm going to take her." Tangerine was getting close to spilling himself all over your stolen panties just with the flashes that he was conjuring of you but he wasn't able to decide how to make you his yet. He decided to test himself to see how much control he had over his body in case he needed to be soft and tender with you in case you're still a virgin and just cum after he was able to conjure both scenarios in his head without touching himself during this process of torture. He needed to prove himself worthy of you and be prepared for all possibilities concerning your well-being.

Tangerine moves his hands to his hair, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath imagining you asking for him to be careful with you "Please, go easy with me okay? I've never done this, not even with Draken? So please be gentle" you would say and he couldn't explain the feeling that bloomed in his chest and made his dick twitch uncontrollable.

"Of course, love. Do you feel prepared enough?" he asked while rubbing his cock along your slick pussy making obvious with the lewd sounds that you were more than ready.

"Yes."

"Can I put in?" he answered pressing the tip of his member in your tight opening.

"Yeah. And don't need to have pity okay? Just worry if I say stop unless keep going" Oh, but how could he not be pitiful of you if you're such a crybaby and he crumbles when he sees you with a tear in your eyes?

"Okay, darling. I'll try my best." Tangerine whispers against your neck, his hot breath making you shiver, before pressing his tip further into you making you suck a little breath.

You put your arms in his shoulders looking down mesmerized by the scene of finally having Tangerine filling you.

At that thought his cock throbbed so violently he instantly knew that he needed to be a little more alert otherwise he would cum before imagining you getting fucked dumb on his cock.

Tangerine is trying to calm himself after being carried away for too long taking deep breaths and holding firm the base of his dick so he wouldn't finish before accomplishing his goal. You will be the death of him, he's sure. Your pussy will be his reason to come back after every job in one piece. He just knew that.

His cock was running hot but stopped twitching a few seconds ago. He was stiff as a board and couldn't even phantom the idea of letting go of the tight grip on his hair because he needed to keep his hands firmly placed somewhere away from his painful and sensitive member.

After a few ragged breaths, he started to move his hand again, slowly and avoiding his sensitive tip.

He knows that once he's fully settled inside your warm tight cunt, he'll be careful and take it slow with you. There's nothing worse than the pace he's imagining for you. Nothing so torturous as feeling you heat swallowing him every time, her walls so tight and unused, begging him to just start going feral, but he knows he need to make you get used to his size.

So, just like that, he's fantasizing about taking you. Slowly, kissing you with eyes closed and tongue insistent, swallowing your mixed moans of pain and pleasure.

The pain was almost too much to bear, but so good at the same time. And the pleasure, oh God, the pleasure he's giving you. Your brain could only think of Tangerine, all you could only, feel, taste, and see was Tangerine. He was everywhere and you felt so full you swear you could feel your belly bulge a little.

Tangerine feels another violent throb run through his dick and his balls are twitching, itching for release. He let go of his dick again and press a pillow into his face screaming in frustration. A sudden urge to just give in and fuck his fist almost make him faint, but he can't give up now. His body was burning and his soft pink lips were bruised with how intense he was biting them, the skin on the verge of breaking with the force of his teeth.

He would never admit it, but the despair he was feeling was so intense that small tears were spilling from the side of his eyes.

"I can do this, I can do this" he thought to himself while taking deep breaths without the pillow on his face. His muscular chest was rising and falling quickly, the red in his face spread into his neck and started to fall into his pectorals, and his body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. A vision to behold.

Your shy tongue started to explore his neck, his skin hot against your wet tongue, and you could feel salty drops of sweat. Your teeth graze against the sensitive flesh and he let a breathy moan close to your right ear. Boldly you suck his pulsing point strong enough to leave a mark and he moans your name loud and clear.

These intrusive thoughts are the death of him. Even without taking his hands from his mischievous hair, his cock was pulsing against his abdomen, leaking from the tip. All his veins are startled like never before and his pretty sure his balls are getting really close to having cramps. Tangerine thought that maybe it was better to get shot in the neck than feel like this, delirious and fighting so hard to control himself for the first time in his life.

"Tangerine, I'm close, please" You didn't know exactly what you were begging for, but Tangerine knew. He picks up his pace? put his large, calloused hand around your neck applying a slight pressure, and keep his lips hovering over yours, like he's trying to decide if he wants to kiss you or keep listening to you moaning his name.

"Come on my cock, love. Be a good girl for me and let yourself go." His raspy voice so filled with desire and something that you still can't figure out what it is yet is enough to send you over the edge. Your orgasm is a hot white force that sends you over the edge and keeps your body spamming for what it seems forever.

The way you keep squeezing the life of his dick is enough to give Tangerine the best orgasm in his life. He's cumming so much inside of you that he's sure you're already full of his seed and he's not even finished yet.

"I can not do this." Tangerine says out loud. Did someone ever die of orgasm denial? Because he was sure he was about to. He was actually in tears at this point and was suspicious that blowing his load would not be that pleasing anymore. There was so much pre-cum pooling in his heated skin even with him stopping himself from touching his throbbing member a few minutes ago.

But now Tangerine could imagine how rough he would take you if this wasn't your first time and without his permission, his imagination started to run wild, and without him realizing it his hands started to crawl their way into his aching cock trying to relieve his pain.

He wasn't going to take it easy on you after everything you made him go through. Tangerine would take you hard, rough, borderline violent, and make you beg for more. More of him, unhinged, a beast out of the cage. More of what only he can give you. By the end, you would be completely addicted to him and his cock in the same way he was already addicted to you.

He would leave marks all over your small body. His fingertips would bruise the soft flesh of your thighs and of your round ass, bites, and hickeys around any smooth skin his hungry mouth could find. Your cunt would be tight and sensitive from the abuse his thick cock, a little too big for you, was making you endure it. But you would love every single second of it, Tangerine was sure.

His big hand was tightening his grip around your delicate neck cutting short your blood circulation and making you feel dizzy. The lewd sound you two were making, moans and skin slapping against skin, was out of a porn movie. To match his pornstache, you think.

You squeeze your tight walls around him and he groans so deep from his chest that you unconsciously squeeze him again.

"Fuck, my dirty little whore. You want me to come inside you so much huh? Is that what you want, love? My cum filling you up to the brim, leaking of you for days?" Tangerine's mouth is right against your ear so you can hear all the sweet sounds he makes, but listening to his voice calling you "his", degrading you, and calling you "love" sends you to another level of delirious"

Tangerine was sure he was losing his mind with how vivid his fantasies were, but now that he was getting close and actually was going to be able to cum he didn't want to question himself about it. His cock was throbbing in his hand, the sounds getting out of his mouth were pure filthy, and his fist slapping against his skin were the only thing he could focus on.

"Tangerine, please, please, please. I'm so close. Keep going just like that, but I'm begging you. Cum inside me. Let's cum together. Please?"

His heart missed a beat. He was staring at your pleading big doe eyes, left hand holding your hips in a bruising grip, right hand still holding your neck itching to give you a soft slap in the face.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Tangerine hisses through his perfect white teeth and when he's just about to spill all his seed, he fantasizes about you saying you love him, right after you finish. He's imagining you pulling him into your tight embrace after he pumped you full of his seed, his head resting on your soft tits, both of you trembling and heavy breathing.

Deep down he wants to think that you were holding all of his ugly and twisted sides of him. Deep down he's dreaming that you hugging him despite his dark desire for the result of this night to be your belly swollen with his child.

And with that wild picture, you round with his baby inside you, he cums. And he doesn't stop cuming, his balls heavy with much more of his thick seed to spill. Such a mess everywhere. His hand, abs, cock. He was sure you wouldn't mind licking him clean.

The sudden image of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth sends a new wave of fresh desire through his guts. Looking left while sighing he sees your stolen panties. In the middle of his self-imposed torture he forgot about it, but now he's going to start over he could put it to good use. He doesn't mind his burning, sweaty body nor his lack of oxygen because of his uneven breathing, the only thing he cares about it now it's his still hard cock.

This is gonna be a long night, isn't it?

--x--

You wake up the next morning feeling thoroughly fucked feeling your body running hot. You have a few flashes of your dream with Tangerine and you are actually on the verge of tears realizing that it was just a dream just like Bella in Breaking Dawn. In the only day you don't touch yourself to the thought of him it's the day that your brain reminds you of what you shouldn't try to ignore.

Maybe if you didn't manifested your life in your early teens wishing a life like Twilight and other book series your life wouldn't be such a mess right now and even with all the disasters in the history, the romance plot was the one consuming you the most.

Speaking of manifestation, you did asked for a sign that the spell you used of that old book with hand-written spells worked. And since you don't believe in coincidences there must be a connection between these things no? Maybe you should ask for a clearer sign.

[vgilantee]

200 mile (per hour) club {tangerine}

bullet train tangerine x fem!reader SMUTTY (minors DNI)

requested: n/a

words: 5.8k

a/n: I have had this thought for weeks since finally watching bullet train and writing this very much was a “fuck it we ball” moment. also canon is taken as a suggestion during this fic because in order for things to work, some of the plot must be ignored

This fic contains smut! I don’t normally post smut here, and have rarely reblogged smuts. But… i really wanted to write this and share it so here we are. The reader is afab :) and the codename is… a personal favourite 😅. the original idea/draft of this fic was sent to @jangofctts but as said above, fuck it we ball and the full fic gets written!

warnings: afab!reader, swearing, smut!, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation (fem), p in v, bad attempts at northern british vernacular, use of the word cunt instead of pussy (not intentional it's just... it flows better), no proofreading we die like men, canon is a suggestion (aka canon variance),

pronouns: she/her

MINORS DNI. any minors liking/reblogging/commenting on this fic will be blocked.

(this is your reminder that i am australian and therefore use british english and punctuation. while i do make errors, often times it is a difference in english type)

You wedged your phone between your shoulder and ear as your partner, Evaline, spoke about the nuances of a cartoon they had gotten really into while the pair of you had been in Japan. 

“Listen, Ev,” you handed the teller your crumpled yen notes with a smile - asking for a ticket to Kyoto - as you spoke down the phone, “I love you and am happy to listen to you talk- Arigatou Gozaimasu- to you talk, but can this wait until after I’m done?” Despite being partners, they were the one to stay in whatever hotel room you were set up in and work as your handler. 

Squeezing between the crowds of people, you quickly made your way toward the bullet train station. You glanced at your ticket, checking the platform for the umpteenth time since getting the ticket to make sure you were walking in the right direction. 

“You know that if I bottle this up, it will only make it worse when you get back.” You snorted in amusement, swapping the ear your phone was pressed to. “But fine, okay. I’ll keep conversation job oriented.” You thanked them just as you stepped onto the train. 

Carefully, you made your way toward your seat, sliding down into it before unzipping your small backpack. 

“So your target will be getting on the train in two stops, but won’t be getting off until Kyoto so you have time.” Out from the small pack, you pulled out a book, leaning back to rest against the wall and kick your feet up onto the joined seat beside you. The perfect way to carefully watch the aisle. “But you will be at Kyoto in about two and a bit hours. You read the briefing I sent you?” It was their not-so-subtle way of asking you if you actually knew who your target was.

“You sat beside me as I read it.” You laughed. 

“Just checking.” Their voice sing-songed down the phone. “Last thing; codename.” You breathed out, almost hoping that they had forgotten and you would be able to choose your own. Sometimes you thought that Eva gave you your codenames to get back at you for something, or just to have a laugh from their end of the jobs. Only once did they forget and you got to pick your own codename. But only once. 

“Alright, what is it this time?” You could practically hear their smirk as they replied;

“Angel.”

--

Between jobs, sometimes you and Evaline got to hang out and just relax. Although you were partners, you didn’t always get moments together were you could just be friends.

So you ordered room service of the most expensive wines and liquors on the list and got drunk together. 

As usually happens, the drunken chatter turned to a game of truth or dare, asking questions that had never come up in your friendship or partnership before. 

“Okay, okay okay,” despite already having your full attention, Eva tapped at your knee. “Truth or dare?” Although the dares were quickly discarded after you ate a full spoon of hot sauce and Eva nearly threw up after putting nearly a full banana down their throat, the question was still asked.

“Truth please.” You fell back as you dragged out the ‘e’ sound.

“What petname makes your knees go weak?” 

---

“Are you fucking with me right now?” You nearly dropped your phone. You heard the sounds of Eva throwing their head back laughing, and the short shriek as they nearly fell off their chair. 

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. That’s the name you’re stuck with.” They reply between laughs while you let out a hum, half closing your eyes suspiciously. “Anyway, enjoy your book. I’ll check in with you when the target gets on the train.” 

You felt your body shift forward slightly as the train finally took off from Tokyo station and you let yourself sink comfortably into your chair. The book you were reading was one that was worn from being dragged around for the last few months and many, many attempts to read it. So you had been taking every opportunity to read little bits and pieces when and where you could. You unfolded a dogear you had made in the page and continued reading the beat-up little book, the sound of the train speeding along its tracks becoming a soft white noise in the background. 

Just as you flip the page, out the corner of your eye you see someone sit down in one of the seats opposite you. You let your eyes flick up to see who it is, and try to hide the way your breath catches as you recognise him. 

His hair is a little longer, and his three-piece is all in place and free of blood, but you had run into him enough times to know him with the smallest of looks despite all the differences. 

But you return your eyes back to your book, pretending that there wasn’t a reaction somewhere inside of you at seeing him again. 

“I hope you aren’t here alone.” You spoke without looking up. “Nobody needs to deal with only one half of the Wonder Twins.” He let out a snort and you saw his fingers appear on the top of your book as he leaned across the table to push the book down. The forced movement had your eyes finally met his. 

“Never go on a job without him.” He winked, doing very little to try to hide his smirk.  You rolled your eyes, marking your page and swinging your legs off the seat to face him properly. “Good to see you again, gorgeous. Been a while. Too long really.” He looked you up and down slowly, as he spoke, tilting his head and twisting one of his rings. 

“Not long enough.” You replied with a half smirk, and he raised a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “So, what’s your name today?” He leaned back with pride, opening his thighs slightly and folding his arms. 

“I’m Tangerine, he’s Lemon.” You couldn’t help the laugh that broke through, and your hand shot to your mouth to cover the rest of the noise. 

“Wow, your handler must hate you.” You said, shaking your head and amusement still present in your voice. Tangerine’s eyebrows pinched as his mouth dropped open a little.

“First, we have no handler, thank you very much, darlin’. Second, I thought the names were quite clever.” You raised your hands in surrender, tilting your head. “But alright, if you think our’s are so bad, what name ‘ve you got, hm?”

If you had paused, for just a moment, before you spoke, you would have realised far sooner.

“For now, I’m Angel.” When he repeated the name back to you with a hum, you realised. Somehow, Evaline had known he would be on this train with you, and that you would cross paths. They knew about the business flirtationship you had with Tangerine, having been stuck listening on more than one occasion, and they were also very good at remembering things, including you drunkenly telling them what petname turns your knees to jelly (and a man who sometimes also had that power). 

Your mouth opened a little as you let out a small breath and silently prayed that he didn’t notice your reaction. Once you recomposed yourself, you reached for your phone. 

“So, Angel,” Tangerine leaned forward and leaned on the table, flexing his shoulders slightly and you had to fight the way your brain gave you the image of him calling you angel while his shoulders flexed above you, “what’re you doing in Tokyo? Business, or pleasure?” You glanced at him over the top of your phone as you sent Eva an all-caps message of thinly veiled threats. Tangerine emphasised the word pleasure in both his tone and a slight raise of his eyebrows.”

“Business, for now.” You meant the statement more as you would be a tourist once the job was done, but the moment you stopped talking, you could see a particular look in his eye. 

“‘For now, aye, Angel?” Tangerine’s tongue ran along the back of his top teeth, and your core tightened. You could only hum your reply, worried that if you tried to say anything your voice would break. 

You notice as his eyes look past you, over your shoulder and down the aisle to the door. He nodded at whoever he saw - you assumed his brother as he never worked with anyone else - before looking back at you and tugging his blazer tighter over his shoulder. 

“So sorry to love you ‘n’ leave you, Angel,” Tangerine stood in the aisle and ran his hands down his chest, smoothing down the fabric, “but business calls. Maybe I’ll see you later.” With a final smirk and wink, he walked away. You listened for the sound of the train carriage door opening and closing, before you let out a sigh and sunk down into your seat.

You hand shot out as you suddenly reached for your phone, Evaline’s number already on speed-dial. The moment they answered, you skipped over pleasantries, quietly yelling at them down the phone. 

“How the fuck did you know he would be on this train?” 

“Ah, so he found you, then?” You could hear the smirk in their voice as they brushed past your rudeness

---

The first time you met Tangerine and Lemon, they were doing a snatch-and-grab in a warehouse that you were in the process of clearing. They had walked in, guns drawn, to you stood over a body in the middle of pulling a machete out of his throat. 

The sound of moving feet and the cocking of guns had you freeze and look up at the men. You mirrored each other as you each slowly raised your weapons and took the other in. 

They were in clean suits, ties gently tugged loose, and each had a plastic poncho tucked into their belts for easy access. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The shorter of the pair spoke, his accented voice bouncing off the walls in the otherwise silent room. 

“I’m not with them.” You lifted a bloodied boot and kicked one of the bodies by you as you spoke, joking and trying to gauge whether the new-comers were the backup or not. 

“I can see that, love.” The other man tilted his head forward with a smirk, and you ignored the warmth that began to rise. “You just here for the kill?” You lowered your weapon, hoping that they would mirror your movement now that you knew they weren’t on the same side as the various men who laid in pools of their own blood around you. 

“Take whatever you’re here for.” You gestured around to the doors behind you. “I’m just finishing up.” You dragged the machete along the inside of your sleeved elbow, cleaning off the blood before sheathing it at your hip.

You had walked out of the building shortly after that interaction, but the moment you met Eva in the waiting car, they turned to you immediately with a smirk.

“You good?” You sunk slightly in the seat and tried disappearing into the plastic sheet that protected it from blood and other fluids. 

“That taller one was… goddamn.” 

---

It was the first of a half-dozen run-ins with the twins, each time talking more and occasionally helping each other when things got sticky. And of course, Evaline made comments about your attraction. 

“Did you suggest this job on purpose or did you find out they were here afterward?”  You were almost afraid to hear the answer. Evaline was beyond clever, and should they have wanted, they would easily have been able to made it into a tech sector of a government agency. But instead, they chose to work with you and use their brains for less than legal means. So it wouldn’t have surprised you if they had gotten into one of their phones, or seen them on one of the many cameras in airports and around Tokyo. 

“Maybe this, maybe that.” Eva giggled at you, and you could hear the shiteating grin on their face. “Enjoy the view!” They sung the last syllable before hanging up on you, and you swore, slamming your phone down into the table. 

You felt the train pull into the first stop and you let yourself recline back again and relax. You weren’t normally on edge during a job, it was something you had been doing since you were eighteen and while you had nerves and your brain ran a hundred-mile a minute, it was never something that had you feeling it in your fingertips and the back of your neck. 

Though the edge that Tangerine had you on was different. It wasn’t one where you were wanting to look over your shoulder, hoping your reflexes wouldn’t be needed. But he had you in anticipation. Your body telling you that you needed him and was waiting for his fingers to graze your skin. And now he had that cursed codename to wrap his accent around. 

With the knowledge that Tangerine was on the same train as you, the book was no longer of interest. You had to read the same sentence over and over before you actually absorbed it. So as the train took off again, you shoved the book away and climbed to your feet. 

---

  “Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.” The twins jumped at the sound of your voice, letting out f-bombs as Lemon held a hand to his chest. 

After making your way through train cars, exploring out of both curiosity and in case of emergency, you found the twins having an apparently heated conversation in the baggage area of their train car. They were engrossed in a seemingly heated conversation about ass cheeks. You weren’t entirely sure, only hearing the tail-end before deciding to interrupt.

On your way down the corridor, you glanced at each person in their seats, pausing for a millisecond when you saw the twenty-something with face tattoos angrily slumped in his seat. 

The twins looked at each other quickly, then over your shoulder to where you were pointing with your thumb back down to where he sat before finally back to you.

“Depends on who you think that is, Angel.” You rolled your eyes at Tangerine then shifted your weight so that you were more fully facing Lemon. 

“Are you idiots kidnapping or returning the homeless-looking White Death’s son?” In the cramped luggage space, you did your best to put your hands on your hips. “Because one of those is certain death.” 

“Aww, you worried ‘bout us, Angel?” You let out a scoff at his comment. 

“You wish, I just need to know how far away from you I need to stay.” Tangerine muttered a joking ouch and you and Lemon share a look. 

“Returning ‘im.” Lemon ignored his brother, already used to and over his attempts to flirt. “Best of the best tasked with bringing him and his ransom back.” You cocked your head with a teasing smile. 

“Oh, ‘the best’, huh?” You replied with a hummed laugh. “Well, if that’s all… best of luck with,” you made a rough circular gesture with your hands, “all of that. I’ll probably be seeing you later.” You stepped between the two men, though Lemon stepped further away when giving you space to pass through. You could hear their interrupted argument reignite as the door closed behind you, and you continued to make your way through passenger cars until you reached the bar car. 

Inside, you saw a man clutching a bottle of dark liquor under a blanket, eyes hidden by sunglasses. You ignored him, not one to judge someone getting black-out drunk on a train, and stepped behind the bar, reaching around until you managed to make yourself a simple vodka and sprite.

Leaning on the bar counter as you sipped your drink, you took in the unconscious man. You almost choked on your drink as you realised who it was. The Wolf. You scrambled to pull your phone out of your pocket, speed dialling one of the only contacts you had in your phone. 

“Eva, we have a problem.” You carefully walked over to the Wolf as you spoke, noticing the blood on his hands and the lack of movement under the blue blanket. “Wolf got on the train early.” You quickly went back to the counter and swapped out your now-empty glass for a pair of ice tongs. Using the tongs, you moved the blanket away from the Wolf and found staining the white of his suit was a pool of dark blood, entry wound clear as day. “And it looks like somebody got to him first.”

“What do you mean? No, that’s not possible.” You could hear Evaline frantically type as they spoke. “God fucking dammit.” They sighed. “Fine just… take a photo of his body. Hopefully we can convince them that you killed him so we can still get paid.” You did as you were told, knowing that you would have to spin this in a way that would not end up with the pair of you getting killed for lying. 

After taking the photo you moved the blanket back to where it had rested, not wanting whoever killed him to know their victim had been found. 

“I guess you can sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride now.” Eva sounded defeated as they spoke. You hummed in agreement, then turned and left the car to return to your seat. 

On your way back to your original car, you saw a stressed looking Tangerine walking toward you. It took him a moment to see you as he checked each person sitting down while he walked, and when he did the stress fell from his expression and was replaced with a cocky smirk. 

“Angel!” The way he said the name sent a pulse to your core, but you refused to acknowledge it, not wanting to show him the effect the petname combined with his accent had on you. “Good to see you, gorgeous.” He finally reached you, barely a step in front as he looked down at you. “What’s up?” 

“My job on this train’s been done.” You shrugged. “Get to enjoy the ride to Kyoto.” The corner of Tangerine’s mouth quirked. 

“Wanna give me a hand with mine?” You couldn’t tell if the offer was serious, or if it was a friend or potential business partner. But there was a greedy and horny part of your brain that wanted to spend as much time with him as you could before leaving Japan. 

“Oh you must be in a lot of trouble to need my help.” You turned around, beginning to walk back in the direction you had just come from. “Who’re we looking for?” You felt him come up close behind you, the brush of his hand against yours. 

“Can’t get enough of me, huh, Angel?” Tangerine’s voice was low in your ear, his breath hitting flyaways. Your breath hitched for a moment hearing his voice so deep and close to you. Then just as quick as the invasion of personal space came, he was gone again. “Some geezer in a bucket hat with thick rim glasses. Stole som’ing from us.” You thought you were imagining the sound of a smile in his voice, attributing it to his usual cocky demeanour. 

As you walked together, you and Tangerine spoke about yourselves - as best you could without revealing too much about your personal identities. You were quick to notice the way he would always include at least one “angel” in each sentence, saying it slightly differently each time. 

You felt Tangerine slide his hands onto your hips from behind, holding your breath as he leaned down and whispered into your ear. 

“Maybe once this is all done, we can spend some time together, Angel.” You spun around and felt his hands slide across your covered skin as you did, trying to compose yourself. Your body betrayed you though, your thighs very obviously squeezing together slightly, caused by the way he all but moaned the name into your ear.

“Fuck it.” You stepped back, letting his hands slide away, then grabbed one of his blazer lapels, dragging him the short walk to the cramped train bathroom. He made a surprised noise but made no effort to fight you. 

You pushed him down onto the closed toilet, turning to lock the stall door and spun on your heel to look at him. Tangerine had his legs spread, showing off his thighs as he let his hands rest on his upper thighs. He had a smirk on his face, only breaking it to poke out his tongue and lick his lips. You dragged your bottom lip into your mouth slowly, biting it gently. 

“Well fuck, love.” You dropped your lip with a short exhale, feeling that last little bit of resolve crumble. In the cramped bathroom, it only took you two steps to get to him, but you paused just in front of his thighs. “You’re welcome to sit.” Tangerine closed his thighs and brought his hands back to your hips, thumbs pushing up the fabric of your shirt to expose peaks of skin. You stepped forward, guided by his hands, and sat down on his strong thighs. 

It was the closest you had ever been to him, and the smell of his aftershave mixed with the feeling of his thumbs on your skin had you using what little resolve you had to stop your hips from rocking, grinding down to create any sort of friction. 

Tangerine had tormented you since he found you with your codename, and you could feel your heartbeat in your core grow each time he said it. It was cruel, how much he made you need him. 

Your hands refound their home on his lapels, pulling that last small gap closed to bring his mouth to yours. 

The kisses were hungry, desperate. Breathing each other in relief at finally having the intimate contact. Tangerine brought one hand up to the back of your neck, applying pressure with his thumb where your jaw met just below your ear. He used the change in hand placement to bring you even closer to him, and you let him, greedily shifting your hips closer to him with a slight grind. He hums out a groan against your mouth and you feel the tightening of his dark slacks. His mouth moved to your jaw and neck, leaving mouthy kisses against your skin. You let your hips continue to rock against him, noticing his own hips move slightly underneath you. Moving your hands away from his blazer briefly, you made light work of the buttons on his white shirt, loosening his tie so it hung undone around his neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, Tan.” You knew it was pathetic, confessing your long-term attraction for the British assassin. His fingers dug into your skin lightly at your words. 

“Feelin’s mutual, Angel.” His words were low against your skin before he quickly moved away from you. “Hold tight.” You tightened your grip on his blazer, quickly wrapping your legs around him as he stood up in the small bathroom space. 

Tangerine in his haste all but dropped you on the sink counter, and you let your legs fall from around him. One of his hands moved down and began its work undoing your jeans, running the backs of his fingers along your stomach and hips so he could feel the soft skin there, and you shivered at his touch and the sudden cool of his rings. 

When his hand made it to your hip, his other moved down to mirror it, two fingers on each side and tucked under your waistbands. 

Your hands slid to his shoulders and you watched through hooded eyes as Tangerine gradually moved down to a low squat, taking your bottoms with him. You shivered both from the cool of the train air conditioner and the way he was staring at you. As he stood, you kicked off your shoes and pants, allowing you to reopen your legs fully and allow Tangerine back into place, his hips pressed against yours. 

His mouth was quick to return to yours, eager to nip at your bottom lip and distract you from the cold of his rings and the feel of his hand sliding its way up your thigh.

You jolted when his thumb started rubbing light circles around your clit, whimpering into his mouth at the sudden change in stimulation. 

“Tan.” You sighed out his name against his mouth and to your relief, he began to move his thumb faster, adding a little more pressure as he did. You could feel him smirk against your mouth, and you retaliated by bringing one hand to the back of his neck and weaving fingers through his curls, giving them a slight tug. Tangerine grunted, pulling away while you held his lower lip gently between your teeth. 

“All good, Angel?” You hummed out an affirmative, knowing your voice wouldn’t hold, not when his thumb never stopped moving. 

Gradually, his hand moved down until Tangerine’s fingers were met with your building slick. You sucked in a harsh breath as he swiped two fingers up your cunt, collecting as much of the fluid as he could. He pulled his hand completely and you watched as he stared in fascination and you followed his line of sight to see as Tangerine rubbed his thumb and forefingers together, pulling away occasionally to see tiny strings connect his fingers. 

At the feeling of your eyes on him, Tangerine’s own flicked up to you. With a smirk, he quickly returned one hand to your core and the other sat on your bare hip, the hem of your shirt bunching on his wrist. Distracting you with a tight squeeze of his hand on your side, he slid a finger into you, dragging it out slowly only to quickly replace it with two fingers. 

Your head fell back against the mirror behind you and your mouth fell open, as Tangerine began an almost torturous paced drag of his fingers in and out of your cunt, matched by the movement of his thumb on your clit. Your hands blindly grabbed at his arms and shoulders, while Tangerine left open-mouthed kisses against your neck and jawline. 

As your nails dug into your skin, Tangerine moved between stretching his fingers inside of you, curling them upward to draw a broken moan from your throat, and pulsing his fingers in and out of you at an ever changing pace. He licked up the column of your throat as you whined out his name, and with every movement he made, he seemed to be trying to figure out which sound was his favourite. 

The wet sounds of his fingers working you were all but drowned out but your moaning and whining and pleading. 

“Tan, please-” your beg was cut off by the feeling of his spit hitting your cunt, adding an extra fluid into the mix quickly coating his hand, “need more.”

“I’ll fuck you properly in a minute, angel, promise.” You felt his low voice against your jaw. “Want you to cum on m’ fingers first.” Despite his generally cocky attitude, Tangerine wasn’t mean. He wasn’t going to get you so worked up with his fingers not to let you cum. 

Your grip on his arms tightened, desperate to grab onto something as Tangerine’s brutal pace never slowed. You felt the knot get tighter and tighter and your eyes rolled back, unable to bring your head up off the mirror behind you. With a broken moan, your cunt tightened in pulses around his fingers before finally the tightness let go. Tangerine’s fingers and thumb never stopped moving, greedily working you through your orgasm as your chest heaved and whines and moans bounced around the tiny bathroom. 

Tangerine slowly pulled his fingers out and you whined as he did, still sensitive. Once you managed to bring your head up and reopen your eyes, you were met with the glorious sight of Tangerine lazily sucking his fingers clean, eyes half lidded at the taste. 

“Angel, that was the most gorgeous thing ‘ve ever seen.” Your cheeks warmed at his words. “And you taste just…” Tangerine let out a short hummed moan, the only description he could think of. 

You reached out with slightly shaky hands, pulling him close enough that you could reach down and undo his belt, letting you at the fastenings of his slacks. Once they were undone, you moved your hands up slightly, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and pushing it back so you could drag your hands across his stomach. Your mind was still lightly foggy and you almost couldn’t believe the sight was real. 

Not that you would ever admit it, but there were more than a few nights where you had dreamt of what shirtless Tangerine would look like. And more than a few where your fingers had worked while you imagined they were his. But reality was so, so much better. 

Tangerine pulled you from your thoughts with his thumb gently running across your bottom lip.

“Still wi’ me?” There was a softness in his eyes, and his cocky smirk had dropped. 

“Yeah. Still here.” Your words were soft, and Tangerine smiled. 

With your hands still resting on his stomach, Tangerine reached down with his free hand, the other still holding your jaw, and thumbed away the elastic of his underwear to pull out his cock. You watched for a moment as he gently stroked his already hard cock, before pushing his hand away with one of your own, taking his cock in your hand and slowly gliding it up and down. You felt the weight, the veins, and your eyes flicked up to see his roll back for just a moment. 

You slide your hand up from his stomach to his chest, and gently lean forward to nip at his jaw. As you do, however, you slip back slightly, and fall into the small sink. You let out a tiny shriek as you fell, and Tangerine’s eyes darted open. He lets out a snort and an amused breath falls from your lips. You shook your head, taking your hands away from him completely to place them on the counter and pushed yourself out of the sink. 

“You all good, Angel?” Tangerine put no effort into hiding his amused smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Maybe the sink isn’t the best place for this.” A shit-eating grin made its way onto Tangerine’s face. 

Before you could react, Tangerine pulled you toward him and you immediately locked your legs around his waist. You both let out quiet moans as his cock brushed against your slick-coated cunt, the friction against your clit encouraging you to roll your hips again. 

He picked you up as you ground against him and took two steps so your back met with the wall. Once you were pressed firmly against it and Tangerine knew that you wouldn’t fall, he moved one hand down and adjusted his cock so that he head pressed against your cunt. He dragged it up and down a few times, collecting your slick and cum as lube, before pressing in. 

Although he had stretched you nicely with his fingers, Tangerine’s cock pushed in far further, and you whined at the tight feeling of him stretching out your cunt. He moved slowly, letting you adjust to his size, until finally he bottomed out. Tangerine rolled his hips, not pulling out very far but still creating a nice friction while you got used to the full feeling. 

With a gasp of his name, you told him to move. And move he did. At an almost blinding pace, Tangerine pulled out until just his tip was inside of you, before pushing all the way back in. He braced himself with one hand squeezing the underside of your thigh, and the other pressed firmly against the wall beside your head. 

Your cunt squeezed around him as he moved. Although you both wanted to take your time and enjoy this at a slower pace, you were on a bullet train and he had a job to finish. So as fast as his hips would allow him, Tangerine ploughed into you. 

Once again, your head fell back against the surface behind you with a light thud, and Tangerine immediately returned to his assault on your neck and anywhere he could reach. You knew that in an hour, all the skin on your neck and jaw would be coloured purple and red, hickeys blossoming all across the skin. And while you knew the comments you would get from Eva and the looks you would get from other passengers, you didn’t care. 

Leaving one hand to scratch at Tangerine’s chest and shoulder, you brought the other down to rub circles on your clit. 

Against your skin, you felt the low rumble of Tangerine’s moans and gasps, and you clenched around his ever-moving cock trying to coax as many of those sounds out of him as you could. 

“Close, Angel.” It took you a moment to realise that he wasn’t asking if you were close again, but was warning you that he was, and your nails ran down his chest at the realisation. 

“In me.” While it wasn’t a full sentence, it was the best you could muster as he piledrived into you, leaving fingertip bruises on your thigh. Tangerine let out a broken moan at your words, more than happy to oblige. 

His hips began to stutter and you sped up your fingers against your clit, not wanting to be left with a built up orgasm for too long after his. After two particularly short thrusts, Tangerine’s hips froze and his head fell against your shoulder as he came inside of you. Not long after he had finished, your cunt clenched around him as you came again, high-pitched moan falling from your lips. 

Tangerine slowly dragged his cock out of your sensitive cunt, and you whined at the feeling. He gently sat you down back on the sink counter, knowing your legs would likely betray you. After using some toilet paper to clean off his cock, Tangerine gently pushed himself back into his underwear, glancing down at the stain you had made. You tiredly smirked, only to flinch as he brought over some clean toilet paper and as gently as he could, cleaned up much of the fluids that had made it onto your inner thighs. 

You sighed contentedly once you were clean, and happily accepted the gentle peck on your lips. 

“Once I’m done with this job,” Tangerine spoke softly as he picked up your discarded bottoms and guided them up your legs, kissing the skin before it was covered as he made his way up, “I’m takin’ you on a proper date.” 

mutual tagging: @websterss @jangofctts (i know i tagged you already but you're also now a mutual so two tags!) @faeology

post fic note: although i do not condone cheating nor the invasion of the private lives of celebrities, i DO condone aaron (allegedly) cheating on his crusty-ass, groomer wife with his bullet train costar joey. (also a couple of my warnings read like ao3 tags but they do still count as warnings so... leave me lmao)

reblogs and kind words are always appreciated

[eternalslover]

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Tangerine: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Y/n: Sure!

Y/n: Whats your favorite color?

Tangerine, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you love me?

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.

Epilogue

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!

~ i'm so sorry i feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily. 

"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.

Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.

Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen. 

Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.

Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.

While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.

"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"

"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.

Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"

"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.

Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—

"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts. 

"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon. 

If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.

With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.

"Lemon?!" 

You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!" 

"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."

Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.

"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says. 

"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.

"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"  

You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue. 

"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."

"She tracked ya?" 

"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."

 "What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice. 

"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."

"Because she likes me better,"

"That's what I said!!" 

"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again. 

"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered. 

"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.

Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say. 

"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.

"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"

Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand. 

Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"

He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear. 

You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you. 

"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine. 

* * * 

When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.

Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you. 

Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight. 

It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.

Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.

He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet. 

He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk. 

Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual. 

"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"

Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away. 

Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.

"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"

Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.  

"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream. 

"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his. 

You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm. 

"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck. 

"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.

"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.

"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.

This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."

Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar. 

Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink. 

"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks; 

"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.

You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand. 

"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.

"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you. 

"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.

Tangerine never says please.

You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.

He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart! 

You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them. 

"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit. 

"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"

You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.

"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—

—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod. 

"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair. 

Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?" 

You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin. 

"Inside me," you say, your voice small

Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."

You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.

"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.

Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly. 

When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise." 

You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly. 

"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.

As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you. 

"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod. 

"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?" 

"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."

With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt. 

You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up. 

Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.

"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare. 

Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him. 

He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach. 

"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone. 

You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—" 

Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.

You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"

"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly. 

You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him. 

Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.

"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry." 

You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper. 

Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"

Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know," 

"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low. 

"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"

Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"

You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"

 Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—

—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes. 

You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-" 

You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"

Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly. 

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"As in love love?"

"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you. 

"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt. 

Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.

Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him. 

It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same. 

"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses. 

"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.

So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.

"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."

"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little. 

"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks. 

He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"This beats for you."

You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."

And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words. 

[iliketangerines]

light it up

a/n: college has been kicking my ass oh my god

pairing: tomas vrbada x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI) dubcon (you're both high af), biting kink, pussyeating, slow and sloppy guys

smoke curls in the room, filling up the dredges of your body and easing the worries of your mind, and you let out a loud sigh, smoke rising from your mouth and filling the air

you barely blink as you slump your head to the side of your pillow to look at Tomas

he lays on the bed next to you, eyes closed and chest rising slowly as he lets the drug work through his system and numb the ends of his nerves

your entire body feels sluggish and and numb, the ends of nerves lighting up whenever his fingers brush against yours when you pass him the blunt

under the low light of your room, his body sinking into the mattress and the softness of the night, he looks so beautiful, relaxed and face free of worries

turning your body over to face him, you take a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and your mouth, and you prop yourselves up on your elbows and tap his chest

he turns to you with half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly parted, and you grab onto his chin gently and bring your lips close to his and blow the smoke into his mouth

Tomas lets out a groan, one heavy hand coming up to hold onto your shoulders, fingers stumbling and nails digging into your skin as if trying to ground himself

you pull your head back to admire him, to see how he breathes in your smoke, how his eyes slightly flutter close and then how he looks at you

he looks starved, eyebrows curved upwards as he looks up at you, and his hand on your shoulder only tightens

his hand tugs at your shoulder, and you easily fall on top of him, your chest pressed flush against his and your lips only a breath apart

“please…” Tomas all but groans it, desperation coloring his voice, his other hand coming up to cradle your face, and you lean into it

the warmth bleeds into you, dripping into your veins and warming your body, and you let your head drop down so that you can kiss him

both of you groan into it, lips moving lazily against each other, and Tomas brings his hand to cusp the back of your neck to try and bring you closer into him

he groans in frustration, that you’re not close enough to him, that he can’t feel all of you against him, and he flips the both of you over so that you lay on your back

it makes your head spin, but you can’t really find yourself caring as he brings his lips to yours again, his hips slotting themselves in between your legs

you wrap your legs around his waist, tightening them as best as you can underneath your induced state, and Tomas groans at the feeling

your hands come up to his back, fisting the cloth underneath your fingers and moaning as his hips involuntarily buck into yours

the cloth of your underwear drags across your sensitive clit, sparks exploding across your vision as it does so, and you whine into Tomas’s mouth

“fuck…mmmf- Tomas, please,” your hands tighten their grip on his shirt as his hips continue to rut into your lazily

pleasure shoots through you, overwhelming your other senses as it flowers behind your eyelids, and you can already feel your orgasm hurtling towards you

“i-i know, i know,” Tomas groans, his lips moving down to kiss your jawline, messy kisses covering your skin as your hands continue to cling onto his back

his teeth slightly sink into the soft flesh of your neck, right below your chin, high enough for everyone to see what he has marked you as, and your mouth lets out a high-pitched whine at the feeling

the pain floods you, colliding with the pleasure, and you can barely think as your orgasm washes over you like honey, slow and sweet as it soaks your mind with buzzing

Tomas groans at the same time, his teeth sinking further into your skin, his hips grinding into yours, and you can feel the outline of his hard cock press through his pants into you

he finally lets go of you, simply resting his forehead against the bare flesh of your neck and letting his breath fan into you, and you loosen your grip on the back of his shirt

neither of you move for a moment, simply feeling how each of you breathe against and with each other, the room feeling more like a haze than a space

you feel like you’re high above, floating among the stars with Tomas, his hand in yours as the both of you dance with the pulsing galaxies

there’s a faint hum playing in your ear, and you shiver as you feel Tomas’s rough hands slide up your sleep shirt and over your skin

his touch sends your nerves ablaze, lighting with every simple glide and stroke of his fingers against the skin of your sides and then your stomach

he presses his lips to your neck and then further down, kissing you through your shirt, and yet you can still feel them burning against you and tracing a path down

slightly pushing your shirt up and above, he reveals the soft flesh of your lower stomach, the slight fat of it, and Tomas thinks he could cum again just staring at it

you still stare at the ceiling, stuck in a fog when you feel his tongue and then his teeth worship your skin

it makes you squirm and whine, tongue heavy in your mouth as your head grows more clouded with each devoted kiss of his lips

and Tomas presses his face as far as he can into you, obsessed with how soft you are, how pliable you are right now, how much he desperately needs you

his fingers curl underneath the waistband of your pants and your underwear, and he tugs them off of you, breath hitching in his throat as he stares at the expanse of your legs

he settles in between your thighs, moaning as your fingers find themselves threading through his hair, and Tomas can’t help but kiss you again

your soft plush legs surround him on both sides, and Tomas can feel his head whirling around, blood rushing down again as he kisses and licks at the stretchmarks

once again, he bites into the inside of your thighs, a hidden claim on you, that you were his, that he was yours, so utterly and completely yours

Tomas could spend an eternity here, worshiping you on his knees, if only you would keep rewarding him with those sweet moans of yours, the lazy tug of your fingers on his hair

he noses his way toward the apex of your thighs, where your pussy drools for him, the sweet scent of you filling his nose, his head with only the thought of you

his face plants into you, his tongue lapping at you sloppily as his nose grinds against your swollen clit, and you groan and whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head back onto the pillows

your hips twitch and grind forward into him as well, thighs tightening around his head, and Tomas lets you, his hips rutting against the bed at the feeling of you completely surrounding him

and at your taste, the delectable taste of you on his tongue, and Tomas needs more, to have all of you and consume you into his soul

he groans and whines, using his arms to try and pull your heat impossibly closer into his face, his tongue fucking its way into you and his tongue persistently rubbing against your clit

it makes you whine, your back arching off the bed as pleasure sings through you, spreading to the tips of your fingers and soaking Tomas’s tongue with your cum

and Tomas gladly accepts it, his moans vibrating through your skin and only intensifying the pleasure, your mind going blank at the feeling

you are too sweet, too good for him, and he wants more, needs more from you

his hands tighten their grip on your thighs, and he seeks for more of your arousal, to draw it out of you and savor every drop you give him

he craves it, and you let him, whining and groaning as he ravishes you, tongue persistent and nose endlessly bumping against your sensitive clit

you’re nothing more than a puddle in the bed when he finally rises from his position and crawls up to kiss you, and he brings your legs to wrap around his waist

you can taste yourself on his lips, feel the smear of your arousal across his face as he moans and groans against you, but neither of you care

there’s the shuffle of fabric in the room, and then you feel the hot press of his cock against your aching pussy, abused and puffy

“please…please…” Tomas whispers it into your neck as he ruts his hips into yours, his dick sliding in between the folds of your cunt, the head catching every so often on your clit

“Tomas- mmgh- i-ye-yes, ah-” you barely have time to react as he slides into you, his whine echoing in your ear as his cock stretches you out

his hips draw back slowly and then thrust into you quickly, the slap of your skin against his echoing in the room

it’s lazy, nothing more than a mess of instinct as he fucks into you, but his kisses against your skin are sweet, his fingers interlacing with yours are a promise

with every thrust, his pelvis slaps against your clit, and you clench around Tomas as you fall over the peak once more, hearing him moan into your mouth as he cums inside of you

his body all but collapses on top of you, but the weight is comforting, an anchor to reality as he leaves his softening cock inside of you

sleep creeps up on your senses, crawling in with each sloppy kiss and each breathless pant, and you both fall asleep entangled with each other

[keravnous]

bathroom b!tch; tangerine/fem!reader (smut; 18+)

part two | part three | part four

playlist: train quickie with tangerine

Tangerine meets you in one of the bathrooms on the bullet train. He just wants to clean up after his tussle with Ladybug and get rid of the blood, but he could use you to blow off some steam as well. You know: he has to take it if he sees it.

word count: 5,9k

warnings: mirror sex, bathroom sex, semi public, fingering, oral (female receiving), blood (it's tangerine's), squirting, dry humping, rather rough sex, unprotected sex, light choking, confined spaces, dirty talk, name calling, kinda a quickie?, tangerine's a little rude but surprisingly gentle too idk he's just like that, he just needs to fuck the adrenaline outta himself, i have very strong feelings about this angry man

title is from the song of the same name, bathroom bitch by holychild

also thank you v for a) helping me out with Japanese and b) by telling me what being a passenger on a bullet train feels like

You knew it was a bad idea.

Starring at yourself in the impressively clean mirror of the small bathroom, you try your best to hold back any fresh tears.

You knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. You fucking knew it and yet you accepted your fiancés pleas to Just try it. Maybe, it indeed would've worked out if he wasn't fucking his bloody secretary.

You regret leaving London. You miss your home.

You're not even that heartbroken, you just feel exhausted, like you wasted an awful lot of time.

You take a long, good look at yourself. Bloodshot eyes and a sad hue resting over your pupils, turning the colour dark and deep. The dress, that you bought for your anniversary brunch – a surprise, quite as much as the one he gave you, when you walked in on him, balls deep in his secretary – now looks oddly strange, out of place on you. You feel overdressed and ashamed, foolish.

But there’s something else, too: the loneliness that followed suite after your screaming, after fighting with him - after breaking up with him. It's been there since you boarded the train to Nagoya but now it rolls over you like a wave of-

Thump, thump.

"What the fuck", you mutter, taking a ragged breath, before yelling out, "Occupied!"

You just want to be left at fucking peace, not being watched by other passengers as you're bawling your eyes out. All you want is to get off that train and burn some of that fucker’s money on a spontaneous vacation. All you want is for the remaining days in Japan to be good ones.

Another sharp knock follows. This one rattles the door.

It takes a moment for you to scramble for the right words, the ones you have picked up when visiting your fiancé before. "Shiyouchu!"

Another knock. And another.

Motherfucker.

You clench your teeth - saying goodbye to the precious moments of crying in silence for the year you've lost to the most useless relationship of all fucking mankind - and wipe away the wetness below your eyes to open the door. "I said-"

Oh.

Oh shit.

There's a very handsome man waiting outside the door. He is towering over you, impatience plastered on his face and seeping through his every movement, with the way he's leaning against the door frame.

He's hot.

Also, he's dripping in blood.

His light blue shirt, once crisp and clean, is now disshelved and just as stained as his expensive looking dark-blue vest.

"Jesus, fuck, are you alright?", you blurt out.

The man's raising an eyebrow. "Could be asking you the same, love. Now, would you please get the fuck outta there."

He's moving towards you, closing in the last few inches separating the two of you. Your gaze is focused on the nasty cut on his arm.

"You're bleeding", you say dumbly.

His eyes shoot up at you and for a split-second you feel like you are face to face with a predator. The anxiety, that the blood and his rude behaviour sparked in your chest, sends adrenaline pumping through your veins and has the muscles your legs preparing for fight or flight. He blinks.

"I know", he says and his lips curl up to something, that you're convinced is supposed to be a smile, "Now, if ya'd be so kind?"

He gestures behind you, towards the empty bathroom.

"No?", you say, voice shooting up a little, which immediately has him cautiously throwing a glance down the hall to his right, "No, I won't! You need help, how the fuck -- what the fuck happened?"

"You're starting to really get on my fuckin’ tits, pretty thing. Would y'just let me the fuck inside?", he growls, tilting his head towards you. His tone has the hairs on your arms rising, as he is starring you into the ground.

You back up, colliding unpleasantly with the doorframe, that nearly drills itself into your left shoulder.

"Thank you, Lady", he's squeezing past you and then turns around again, giving you a quick one-over. You are unable to move, mesmerized by the way he's looking at you.

The corners of his mouth tilt up again and one of his hands, a little sticky and red with his own blood, comes up to his face, straightening his moustache, as his gaze runs over your body once more. You should leave, you should run - clearly, something is awfully and so not right but you just can't, being glued to the spot by his eyes.

It shouldn't make your loins grow hot, but you can't help it. You feel your belly tingle, shooting sparks down down down between your legs. He is very attractive and the aura of pure fucking danger that wafts around him doesn’t do what it normally should do – instead, it pulls you in. Oh, aren’t you just fucked.

"What were y'saying about help, again?", the man murmurs, gaze locking with yours.

"Uuuh", it's a very stupid sound you make and his eyes spark up at that, lips giving room to flash some teeth, "I-I just said you look like you might need some help?"

"Well, maybe I do."

He licks his lower lip and you blink, gaze following the movement.

This is very stupid. This is risky, dangerous, and most likely something you are going to regret.

It's not only the situation, it's him, too. He seems dangerous. It's not only the blood, mind you. It’s the way he moves, how his eyes dart through the room, over your body. It’s the aggression in his voice that he’s trying to hide, cover up but ultimately fails, something that seeps through every pore of him.

But he's also just ridiculously hot, walking with his crotch first, heavy northern British accent swirling the words around his tongue and, fuck, it's mostly the way he's looking at you.

And you're just so fucking full of anger and grief and your life feels strangely directed and determined by your shitty-ass fiancé and there's so much rage and sadness -

You take a step into the bathroom and the door slides shut behind you.

"Good", he hums, "Because you do look, like you could also use some help."

The door locks behind you and take another step forward, approaching him. "You have no fucking idea", revenge sex is a very stupid concept but now, it seems very tempting. It's exciting and makes you feel oddly alive.

"Did'ya get dumped?", and you don't know why you trust him with that information but you can hear yourself say: "Cheated on. Fiancé of twelve months." There is a hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can smell him now, the blood on his skin and clothes, the heavy scent of his perfume – it’s warm and thick, vanilla and fruit, like an orange grove.

"Allow me the comment - that's one bloody stupid bastard."

You look up at him and blink. That man's insanely pretty and you swallow as he pulls you in even closer, your hand connecting with his chest. It is firm and warm and your fingers get a little sticky with the fresh blood on his shirt. They splay out, feeling the firm muscle flex beneath the expensive fabric.

"How much time d'we have, sugar?", he hums, runs his thumb across your lower lip.

"I have to get off in Nagoya."

"Gonna get you off alright now, sweetie", you roll your eyes at that and he chuckles, "Bit more than half'n hour I'd say. Think we can manage that?"

You nod while biting your lip, adrenaline thick and heavy in your veins, pumping your blood down south and making you wet wet wet, and he laughs at that, runs his tongue along his bright, bright teeth.

It's sheer excitement that has your belly tingle and you lock your eyes with his, the darkening blueish green pulling you in and then he leans down, locks his lips with yours.

They are soft and warm and his moustache tingles a little. You hum against his lips, one hand fisting his vest as the other sneaks up his muscular arm, runs over and through the blood, up up up next to the cut and comes a halt on his neck. The hand on your waist holds you close, fingers spread out delicately as he starts to feel you up.

His tongue darts out and licks over your lips and you gladly give him more room, parting your lips slightly. He's pushing in, licking into your mouth. You hum deep in your throat, pressing against him, tasting the cigarette smoke on his lips.

You can feel the bulge in his pants, his dick pressing hotly against your lower belly. It ignites your loins, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.

You moan into his mouth and he responds by pushing you back, heaving you up the small sink, deepening the kiss. Your back presses against the mirror as you clutch onto him, hand running up his neck and into his hair, slick with product and a little sticky with sweat. Your knees hit his hipbones and the man starts to roll his hips into yours, having his hard dick rubbing against your crotch and your eyelids flutter with the feeling. He's rock-hard and so so hot through his dress pants and you can't fucking wait to get to it.

He eventually breaks the kiss, breath ragged as his eyes roam over your face, hands feeling your thighs up. You decide that you need more of him and thus, your free hand roams over his chest, fingers making quick work of his vest. As soon as you pop the last button, he hastily tears it off of himself, throws it to the ground where it lands with a quiet thud.

"C'mon sweetheart, I know you clammin' to touch me", he says, voice deep and raspy and you do - like you're on fucking autopilot. Your hands dart out, roaming over his defined chest. He feels nice and firm and makes you want him more, want to feel all of him, all at once.

He hums quietly, as you open a few buttons of his shirt and run your hands over the sweaty, warm skin, through the dust of fine chest hair, making his chain rustle. He feels nice and it makes you want him.

The man looks up from your hands and you don't know what has come over you as your hand glides up further, cupping his neck, thumb on his jawline. "Fuck me", you breathe, "Fuck me 'til I can't walk."

He grins and leans in even closer, his clothed and hard dick pressing against your wet panties, as he's kissing a wet trail from your jaw to your ear. "Who would've thought - such a naugh'y lil'mouth on such a pretty woman."

You hook one leg around his waist, tugging lightly at the hair that's curling in his neck as he starts to suck on your neck. The slight pain ignites your lust, has arousal blooming and wetness pooling between your legs. You want to tell him to stop, before he marks you up for good as --

"Name's Tangerine", he suddenly rasps, as his tongue rubs over the spot he has been sucking on and you're pretty damn sure that he just gave you a hickey.

"Like the-"

"The fucking fruit, yeah. 'M gonna burst you more like something of a cherry, though", he rumbles, quietly laughing to himself with his fingers digging into your hips.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses himself flush against you - all firm muscles, perfume, and hot skin - tongue licking over your throat like the hot blade of a knife, dancing over your jaw.

It's most likely not his real name and that should really, really alert you. But it doesn't - instead you surrender yourself to him, letting your head fall back and parting your legs, inviting him in.

And the man -Tangerine - follows suite and shoves your dress up up up, runs his hands over your now exposed thighs. You lean forward a little, until your lips brush over his. "Name's Y/N", you whisper and his eyes glint a little at that, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, you gon' be a fun one", he grins and you do too, before leaning in and kissing him again. He is less gentle now, keen on getting you hot, his kisses turn sloppy quickly, biting your lower lip and licking into your mouth until you lack air. The thumbs on your legs dive in deeper, until they connect with your crotch. And then, one of them gently runs over your soaked panties.

Tangerine breaks the kiss, wet lips brushing over the corner of your mouth, only to inhale sharply - keeps his cheeks puffed theatrically for a short moment, then exhales just as sharply, eyeing you up and down. "Jesus Christ, that pussy of yours s'fucking wet, innit?", he rumbles and two of his fingers run over the wet fabric once more, slowly starting to rub your clit.

You gasp, hips bucking a little and you watch the way his hand vanishes under the hem of your dress. "Fuck", you moan quietly as he quickly finds the spot that makes your thighs clench. He rubs you through your panties, soft lace turning wet wet wet and dampening his skin. Your mouth falls agape seeing his wrist twitching between your legs and the way he's looking down at it, a little mesmerized, makes your head swim. Then, he stops.

"Yeah, let's get those off", he mutters, more to himself than to you and then he's tugging at the straps of your panties, riiips the lace and tears them apart. "Oh-", you gasp unintelligently as he carelessly drops them to the ground and you really don't fucking mind at all.

It's the first time in a long time that you feel wanted, like someone's actually hungry, greedy for you. And it turns you on. A lot. It is like Tangerine has flipped a switch and you want him just as much as he seems to want you. And you want it now.

You blink at him through your lashes. "You gonna touch me now?"

"Easy, love", he chuckles, genuinely amused and then his fingers are slooowly creeping back over your legs, until his index finger finally touches your exposed cunt. The touch is cold, but not unpleasant and you suck in a sharp breath, one that hitches in your throat.

He watches you, as he runs it over your pussy, quickly joined by a second, digits running up and down, spreading your slick. You hum, pleasure building up in your abdomen and then, finally, his fingers return to your clit.

Slow, wide circles spread your lips apart, making you moan and throwing your head back in pleasure. His bracelet clinks as he quickly picks up a faster rhythm, keen on seeing you coming loose, circles growing smaller.

"Oh shit, yes that's fucking it", you can feel arousal building in your stomach, shooting through your body. Tangerine laughs under his breath and his lips are onto you again, licking and sucking over your straightened neck. You don't give a fuck anymore, the slight pain of him bruising your skin makes your hips buck and rolling against his digits.

"Such a good girl, ain't ya?, he groans against your neck and it sends shivers down your spine as you're moaning and gasping, nodding frantically.

Your body feels like it has been ignited, with the way his fingers rub your clit, teasing your pussy and then there's one finger circling your hole and fuck, you really fucking need it. You spread your legs farther and Tangerine puuushes in, sinks one rather cold finger in your hole, your hot hot skin meeting the cold gold of his ring.

Tangerine starts to fuck you slowly, finger pushing in and out of you, until you're loose enough to take a second one. His rings thrust against your hole every time he pushes them back inside and the sensation has you whining, his lips still glued to your neck, occasionally moving down down down to you cleavage, licking fat stripes over your warm, sweaty skin.

A flood of very good, very dangerous emotions has one of your hands abandoning the sink, instead running up his arm, splaying across his shoulder. You can feel the muscles working slightly beneath the light blue fabric, a little dampened by his sweat. "Fuck, you make me so hot, shit, that feels so good", you whimper quietly, gasping as his fingers push even deeper. It seems to kick Tangerine off, moustache grazing your skin as he’s picking up an even faster rhythm - rubbing, circling your clit faster, adding more pressure - obscene squelching sounds filling the air of the small bathroom. You moan as pleasure shoots up your spine, has you rocking on and against his fingers.

You can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, hole fluttering against the cold, golden rings and then --

He breaks from your throat and whistles lowly as fresh wetness pools around his fingers, your squirt dampening his golden bracelet and the cuff of his shirt.

Tangerine pulls his fingers out of you slowly, slick with your juices and looks at them for a few seconds, the way your wetness is glistening on his skin in the dim lights. He brings them up up up, gaze connecting with yours and then -

They go past his lips, as his tongue darts out and licks them clean. You blink - once, twice. "Fuck", you breathe, and he chuckles.

"You taste like a fuckin' dream, love", his hands push your legs further apart and before you know it, he sinks down to his knees. You blink at him, as he lifts the hem of your dress up, "Might wanna hold that f'me", and you do, pulling the fabric as high up as you can, exposing yourself to him further.

Tangerine tsks as he takes the sight in and you can feel your cheeks growing hot, burning red, as his fingers dance over your pussy.

"Don't ya just have the prettiest cunt?", he hums, running his fingers through your folds, "'M gonna fuck ya so good."

"Jesus, Tangerine", you huff out, legs shaking a little as his thumb carefully rubs over your clit.

Tangerine looks up at you, smirking a little and then he's leaning in, hands coming to rest on your thighs, forcing your legs apart. He's not breaking eye contact, keeps your gazes chained together, as he dives in and licks a long, fat stripe from your hole upwards to your clit.

You fucking mewl, as his moustache rubs over your sensitive skin, tongue circling your clit for a short moment. His eyes gleam up at you, watching your reaction as his tongue swipes down, over your folds to your hole, teasing it. It has your legs kicking a little and you grab the sink with both your hands, as your thighs give a quick shake.

You can hear him chuckle deep in his throat and it makes you hot hot hot all over, with the way his tongue crawls back up, lips grazing your cunt and then he's onto your clit once more, gently lapping at it, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin.

A strangled noise escapes your throat as arousal rushes through your abdomen and up up up your whole body, has your chest heaving with a ragged breath and rolling your hips forward. It's so so good, but not enough - you just need more.

"Don't ya move, love", Tangerine rasps and one of his hands grabs your hips forcefully, dress sliding up to your navel as he's holding you in place. The other crawls up your lower leg and thigh, teasing your folds and then one finger presses against your hole, pushes in roughly.

You moan as he immediately starts to fuck you with it, pumping your wetness in and out of you with a rather merciless rhythm, keen on having you come for him, having you squirt once more.

His eyelids flutter, long and dark lashes against his pale skin as his tongue licks over your folds, tasting your wetness and taking your scent in. You're tasting so so sweet to him, like a fucking forbidden fruit that he's going to devour anyways, because he can and he will and because fuck the rules he had set himself for this job.

He closes his eyes as he pushes a second finger into you, pumping them in and out of you, while his tongue laps at your cunt, lips closing in around your folds, gently sucking. His fingers are fucking you fast now, pushing you further and further.

"Oh god", you gasp, one hand still holding your own weight, the other now fisting his hair, pulling it. It seems to spur him on, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, gently nibbling at the soft skin as his finger pumps into you. It's even better than before, with his beard scratching you and his tongue and lips gliding over your cunt as if it were a riddle he's going to solve without his hands. The heel of your shoe digs into his back - desperate for any leverage, to just feel him - as you are nearing your release.

"Shit, fuck fuck fuck", your voice sounds strange in your ears, high-pitched and far far away, between the squelching sounds that his rapidly moving fingers pull out of your pussy, "I'm gonna-"

He hums and then, after a short moment, pulls his digits out of you and grabs your hips hard, holding you in place, not stopping his tongue from rubbing over your cunt hard.

It tips you over the edge, has you breaking loose. You gasp loudly, throwing your head back against the mirror, incoherent rambling leaving your lips as you come - riding your orgasm out on his face as he licks you through your orgasm, your hips bucking wildly with it.

As your orgasm rolls over you, you already know that this isn't over. Usually, you would be spent for now, calm and a little tired but right now - you're not at all, lust still rolling over you, fresh wetness pooling between your legs again. "Mhm, shit", you breathe, feet kicking a little as Tangerine's tongue continues to flick over your clit. You are still wet, already desperate for more, more of him.

All you can think about is his hard dick, that you've felt earlier pressing against your crotch and pure want tingles in your stomach. Tangerine's lips close in around your throbbing clit, overstimulation making your head swim.

"Please, fuck, please", your hip bucks against his iron grip that holds you steadily against the sink. Tangerine looks up at you again and let’s go of your clit with an obscene pop. His moustache is dampened by your wetness as he grins up at you. "Please please", he mocks your high-pitched whines and then smirks, "Wan'it that bad, love?"

"Need you - ah, fuck - inside me. Oh, shit", you whine, as your hole clenches around nothing, desperate for more than his fingers. You are so turned on by this stranger, lust crashing over your body like waves - you can feel its tingle in your chest, your legs, feeling your pussy desperate for another touch.

Tangerine blinks for a moment and you're sure, that you saw his eye twitch and then he, very dramatically, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. "Shit, love, you make me feel all sorts o'things", he says quietly and then quickly gets up, wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

He leans in and his lips lock with yours again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, as he licks into your mouth, grinning against your lips, damp stache rubbing over your upper lip. He licks over it, groans deep in his throat, while his hands brush over your legs, before he commands, whispers against your lips: "Bend over the sink f'me.”

"What?", you blink, words not really reaching you through the lustful haze that has wrapped your brain in like cotton candy. All you can do is look at him, at this very handsome stranger with the very fake name and he has your head swimming, brain giving in and surrendering to lust once more.

You take the hand he offers you as he helps you down the sink, your legs a little wobbly. "Alright c'mon now, girl, don't keep me waitin'", Tangerine gives you a light pat on the cheek, rings barely connecting with your skin - a patronizing gesture that has your knees going ever weaker for a moment as you try to turn around, hands gripping the edges of the sink.

You watch him in the mirror, as he makes quick work of his belt and the fly of his trousers. As he pulls his dick out, your mouth waters. It's long and big and has just the right girth, a drop of precum glistening on its tip. You'd really like to suck that cock, like right motherfucking now.

Tangerine looks at you. "Got all hungry fo'it?", and you nod - breathing out Fuck yeah - arching your back for him, "Alright love, just a minute."

He spits in his hand and rubs the saliva over his dick, giving himself one, two strokes. You arch your back, keeping your eyes on him as he grabs your hips hard, lines himself up, head of his dick resting against your hole - all hot and hard - and then he finally, finally pushes himself in. The stretch is nice and has you squirming a little with the dull pain, excitement lighting your nerves up.

"Jesus Christ", his head falls forward a little, "You're so fuckin' tight."

He bottoms out, forcing himself in deep, holding still. You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, but he doesn't move and you can see his chest heaving, hear him grunt. His hand roams over your bare ass, shoving the dress even higher, until your back is partly exposed and his hand creeps around your body, over your stomach and under the dress, slips beneath your bra and cups one of your tits.

Tangerine squeezes it, feels you up and then pulls his dick back out only to quickly push himself back in. The sound that leaves your throat is nothing but desperate and your hand grips the sink harder, knuckles slowly turning white. His jaw is going a little slack as he rolls his hips into you, fucking you slowly.

"Ah shit", he groans, a deep and coarse sound, that makes you shiver, "Doesn't that just feel lovely?"

He watches the way his dick pumps into your pussy, eyebrows drawn together, lips slightly agape - until his gaze meets yours in the mirror once more and there it is - a shadow that dances over his eyes, turning the mesmerizing blue and green dark dark dark. One of his hands suddenly darts forward, rings glimmering in the dim light, only to roughly grab your chin, forcefully holding your head in place. It hurts a little, but the pain feels good, the way it stretches your back and intensifies the arch of it, forces you to look at him and yourself. Your mascara is pooling beneath your eyes, pupils blown wide and cheeks reddened.

"Would'ya just look at yourself", Tangerine groans, "Ya might be the hottest fucking thing I've seen in a long fuckin' time --" He groans again, thumb catching your lower lip and you moan as you watch his face coming a little loose with pleasure.

Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, thrusting into you and you push your hips back, meeting him - desperate for more more more. He grins at you in the mirror and his hand creeps a little lower, until it rest riiight below your jawline and then -

Then he squeezes.

It has you gasping, choking a little at the sudden loss of air and the feeling of your windpipe being closed. Your hip bucks against his and he licks his lips.

The lack of air has adrenaline rushing through your veins once more, as his dick pushes against your spongy hot walls and you feel your body surrendering to him fully, the small voice in the back of your head remembering you that You are at his mercy has you growing even wetter.

The hand lets go off your throat, now gently holding your head in place and you suck in a few deep breaths, gasping, greedily sucking in the air, as --

There must be a bump on the rails, as the wagon suddenly lifts a little and has you thrown forward towards the mirror, shoves his dick deeper into you. You moan, instinctively catching his eyes in the mirror.

His lips are slightly parted, eyes darkened by lust and his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. The train speeds up just as he leans forward, throws his chest against your back. His body is so so hot against yours and your walls flutter around his dick, as his scent wraps you in once more.

Tangerine lowers his head, until his forehead rests on your shoulder, cock twitching inside of you. "Ya have no bloody idea what'cha doin' to me, Lady", he says, voice coarse and dark and your eyelids flutter, "'M gonna ruin ya."

He lifts his head a little and your gazes connect in the mirror once more. A shiver runs down your spine - he means it.

And you feel it, too, as he thrusts into you once, knocks the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of it. The tip of his dick hits the spot perfectly and you nearly cry out in pleasure, hands gripping the sink tightly. There are small lines forming around his eyes as he's grinning against your shoulder, pulls out a little only to force himself back in, even deeper this time. The hand that was toying with your tit leaves, crawls back down and his arm wraps itself around your waist, holds you close.

Your legs shake as Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, starts pounding in to you like a starved man, like an animal gone wild. It's in his eyes, hunger hunger hunger and you feel pleasure shooting through your body, pooling in your abdomen. You squirt against his dick, wetting the trimmed pubic hair as his balls slap against your wet skin.

You suck in a sharp breath, a strangled high pitched whiny moan escaping your lips, as he hits your walls again, tip of his dick brushing over your g-spot, having you seeing stars. Your eyelids flutter, gasps escaping your mouth with every one of his thrusts.  

"Be fuckin' loud, you lil'slut, I don't care - one - bit", he says through gritted teeth, each word one thrust, "If they come knockin'. I’ll kill’em."

It shouldn’t – really, it shouldn’t – but it has your head swimming, rocking back against him, obscene sounds filling the small bathroom and you moan loudly. His jewellery rustles and clinks as he ruts into you, huffing against your shoulder. The force of his thrusts has your body moving back and forth like a ragdoll, hipbones bouncing against the sink, one of your hands coming loose and pressing flat against the mirror, desperate for any sort of leverage.

You can feel yourself clenching around him, white hot pleasure building on the edges of your brain, until there's nothing left but him him him.

"Fuck", you cry out, "I'm gonna fucking cum, shit shit shit", lips falling agape with pure pleasure. It’s too much and you can feel your muscles tensing.  

The hand around your throat tightens a bit more and that’s all you need – has your eyes falling shut, your second orgasm rolling over you. It knocks the air straight out of your lungs, has you going limp, while the muscles in your thighs and abdomen clench, holding and squeezing his dick inside of you.

You can hear him moan deeply, sounding far far away and then his cum hits your walls, paints it as he buries himself deep deep inside of you. You gasp, desperate for air and he lets go off your throat.

You suck in a few breaths and feel him doing the same, chest heaving against your back. "Fuck", he says and slowly straightens back up, looking at you in the mirror.

"Y'good over there, love?"

"Uh-huh", you hum, unable to speak, and blink at him. His hair's a mess and his cheeks are a little reddened, glistening with sweat.

Tangerine fucking winks at you and then slooowly, very carefully pulls out of you. You inhale sharply as you feel some of his cum following suite, dripping down your legs. You want to straighten up, too, clean it up, but he's quicker, taking one of the disposable towels and gently sweeps along your cunt.

"'S good, I can do that too, y'know", you say and take it from him, cleaning yourself up. For a long moment, while you can hear him putting himself back in his pants, there's silence between the two of you. Only, as you carefully put your dress back in place, does he look at you again.

"Be careful tonight, sweetheart", he says nonchalantly while tugging his shirt back into his slacks. He says it like it's nothing but it has the hairs on your body standing up.

I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. You look on the slight stains that his blood left on your fingers, that soaked his shirt.

"Make you sure you get out of that train in Nagoya, y'hear me?", his gaze is soft as it lands upon you. Your brain goes numb with anxiety.

"Y-yeah, yeah sure. I'm meeting a friend there, wouldn't miss her for the world."

He smiles at that. A genuine, warm smile. It does something funny to your stomach. "Alright love, gotta dash", he's straightening his vest and giving himself a glance in the mirror, running his hands through his hair, "There's this chap I gotta get rid of. Gimme a call, when you're in London, would'ya?"

You just nod and take the slim, white card he hands you. The numbers on it are orange.

"Very fucking funny", you huff and he grins, leans down towards you, and places his lips on your cheek. The kiss is feather-light but it'll haunt you late at night in the weeks, months to come after the story of the crashed bullet train breaks the international news. But right now, it makes your chest tingle in all the right ways.

"Tis'a good girl, eh?", Tangerine whispers and then, throwing one last look at you, struts out of the door.

[queers-gambit]

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[dietcokeangel2004]

Yours to use

Tangerine x reader smut

Warnings:

Daddy kink

Cock warming?

Slight Breeding kink

Dom Tan!

Explicit

His length sheathed itself inside you fully as you tried not to squirm around on the bed. Your moans quickly turned to whimpers as squelching noises filled the room. Tan had buried his seed in you 3 times already and showed no signs of slowing down. Lying on top of you while his soft dick hardened inside of your warm walls.

“ That’s it love, continue to be a good girl and just take it.”

His voice spoke roughly in your ear, moustache tickling the shell of your ear. You were spent but had really no choice unless his actions crossed the set line of no no’s you had. The sounds filling the room were actually quite disgusting.

The sound of your wetness and his previous cum squelching around his cock made you shudder and moan. Tangerine loved his control, and he loved it even more in the bedroom. As instructed, you were to lay there on your stomach while he had his way with you. He loved to make you feel like you were just his dumb slut, nothing more than some holes to fuck.

As he pounded your sweet, exhausted cunt he continued to talk, half of what he was saying was lost on your dumb, dunce ears.

“ Look at ya! You silly, filthy slut, all for Daddy right?”

“Mmm god yes all for Daddy” you reply with haste, nothing except pleasing your Daddy was on your mind.

You could no longer cum anymore, just twitch and shudder around his dick, your body finally spent. He slammed into your aching heat one last time before his load filled you to the brim.

“Finally pump you full of my babies love.”

He gently pulled himself out of you, rolling you over into his warm chest. Snuggling for what seemed like hours, coming in and out of consciousness you finally felt him shuffling around.

“ What do you say we have bath time?” He says with a smirk. You can’t help but giggle at your man while you follow him to the bathroom.

[tangerinesilk]

BACK UP PLAN • TANGERINE x FEM!READER

they think you’re the diesel, but you know who took the case. too bad for you that tangerine, a guy from your past, likes to shoot first and ask questions later. as fun as that is, you quickly team up to figure out who took the case and what terrible fate they’ll meet... and of course, rehash your complicated past.

rating ✷ r (18+ only, minors dni!)

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers (but still enemies), pwp, cheeky banter, loud gf/quiet bf, butchered british slang, kind of mr. and mrs. smith energy, two idiots with one task

warnings ✷ cursing, violence being the answer, guns & knives, switch!tan x switch!reader, bathroom sex, fingering, quick p in v, lots of begging, exhibitionism, mention of hands/rings (my kink lmao)

word count ✷ 3.7k

a/n ✷ my first tangerine fic :D just feeding into my fixation and going down the aaron johnson rabbit hole again. wasn't expecting to do some bullet train writing, but..... here it is. there will be no part 2! hope y'all like it and feedback is always welcomed!

Shit was going down and surprisingly, it was not by your doing.

With your back pressed against the wall of the luggage holding, you could only hope the short but thick curtain covered your figure enough that anyone who passed wouldn’t see you. As you attempt to keep your breathing low and quiet, it hitches when you hear the sudden sound of automatic door opening.

“We need to find the cheeky fucker who took our case. Swear to God, I’ll bash his head in when I find him.”

That’s a thick accent you don’t forget. You don’t want to peak, but you can see the West Ham sticker on the back of his phone. 

It can’t be him. No, no…

“Lemon, I’ve gone up and down this train for the umpteenth time. I’m ‘bout ready to shoot any sleazy bellend who looks at me funny.”

Tangerine?

He was the only person you’ve been able to outrun yet here he was, only a few inches away and knowing damn well he would know how to tear into you for what happened in Copenhagen. Long story short, it ended with you tossing his favorite gun into the river and it’s made an even bigger target on your back.

While you do wear a mask that seals your identity during your heists, you prayed he didn’t remember eyes since you lost your only form of disguise when fighting the Prince. Just like you, she uses her looks to her gains, able to manipulate anyone by batting her eyelashes. She was the one with the case, and knowing her past, she’d blame it on someone else and you were most likely high up on the list.

“Alright, then. Let’s keep lookin’ for the bastard.” He said before hanging up.

You cover your mouth, your glare remaining steady on him before he takes a pause. His blue eyes search around the cart, huffing until you hear the other automatic door open. You fully step out of the small luggage spot and catching your breath, “I have to get off here.”

As the next stop was coming to a halt, a force pulled you back into the bathroom from an arm snaking around your waist. You couldn’t even gather your thoughts before feeling a cool metal pressing against your temple.

“Now I can only think of two reasons a girl like yourself is hiding behind a bunch of suitcases. One, she’s got a bit of a dickhead of a boyfriend or two, she’s got my fuckin’ case.”

You smirked, “If I had it, I would have hid better, don’t you think?” You hoped to fool him.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m that stupid, why don’t you just–” He turned you around to look into your eyes, and unfortunately, he had seen them somewhere, “Oi, where have I seen you before?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life, now if you’ll excuse me…” You trailed before he shifted to stand in front of the doorway, placing his gun on the sink counter.

“As much as I’d like to believe that, darling... you’re not going’ anywhere until I get my answer.” He said with an assertive tone, his jaw obviously clenched and his eyes piercing blue.

With his one hand on the trim of the sink and the other against the wall, he towered over you with his tall stance. He acted intimidating but you knew deep down there was hidden softness to his personality. ‘Warmer the closer you got’ type of shit.

Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his chest, hard to not stare with his first button undone and gold chain disappearing into his shirt. Able to display a poker face, Tangerine was still racking his brain around where he had seen those eyes before. He couldn’t place the last time he saw such a color.

I guess what you failed to mention is that something else happened in Copenhagen. To summarize, it involved a skin tight dress, a hotel key card and a getaway plan by dawn. What threw him off now was that you weren’t sporting the same short, auburn wig you sported that night you tried to get his attention.

“How am I supposed to give you an answer that I don’t have? You’re in my way.” You protest.

“And you’re not a very good liar, are ya?” He huffed, “Now, if you don’t have my case then who does?”

Not giving a second more, you pulled out your own gun tucked in the waist of your skirt, pushing it against his bare chest, “I think you better stay out of the way before you really get hurt.”

He didn’t bat an eye, but his eyes took a second glance at the tattoos drawn on the side of your middle finger and the top of your knuckles. Suddenly, he placed those hands from memory and the image of them running down his chest struck his mind. He looked back into your eyes and remembered how they kept steady contact as your tongue glided down his body.

“It’s been a while since Copenhagen, yeah?” He said, clenching his jaw once more.

Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have doubted him so much.

“Well you’re not fooling me this time.” He grunted, quickly taking your gun while your guard was down for a split second, “I’ll give you one last chance, love. Tell me where the case is and maybe, I’ll be and gentleman and just escort you off at the next stop.”

“So cute how you’re trying to threaten me yet use a pet name. Guess I just know how to get to your soft spot, Tan.” You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek.

Mesmerized, a gloss smooths over his eyes before his phone vibrates in his pants pocket.

“Do you wanna get that or have me reach in there?” You taunted.

He replied with an eye roll, but quickly answered. “Yeah, what?” Tangerine answered, his eyebrow cocked.

A low voice told him that they needed to see proof of the case at the next stop or things could go south. Tangerine quickly hangs up during mid-threat, and you twist your lips.

“Since you can’t find your case, I assume you’re the one getting off at the next station.” You smirked, “Glad we got to catch up.”

“No, no, you little pain in my ass. You’re gonna put on a nice smile for these massive dickheads and stall with me…” He tilted his head a bit, “As far as I know, you know where the case is so I’ll be attached by the hip to you for the rest of the lovely ride to Kyoto.” Tangerine yammered on.

You rolled your eyes but he held your chin, making you look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, does that bother you now?”

“Hmm, no. Just kind of sweet to know you haven’t forgotten about me.” You purposefully teased, your palm running down his chest before opening another button of his shirt with your one hand. It was a tactic to get under his skin, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

“You’re some tease who left me in Copenhagen, I’ve dealt with shots to the fuckin’ chest. You really think highly of yourself, don't ya.” He deflects but glances at your soft lips. 

You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek, “I don’t think I have to remind you of how low I’ll stoop to get a job done… or kneel.”

Tangerine felt your hand moving through the back of his hair, carding his loose curls before pressing your foreheads together. The tip of your nose brushed against his, your lips barely touching until the train came to a slow stop.

“Well, I guess it’s time to put on a good fucking act.” You huffed, pulling away and Tangerine didn’t realize he forgot to take a breath.

♡ ♡ ♡

He turned around, opening the bathroom door in one swift motion and the two of you stood by the exit. After quickly texting Lemon that he was going to stall, he gives you a look again– this time, his eyes shifting up and down your body, noticing the tear in your stockings. He knew you were up to something, but resisting the urge to press you up against a wall was making him ache a bit.

As the train door opened, Tangerine took a step toward you, “If anything goes down, you get behind me and get back on. Other than that, follow my lead.”

You nodded, “I have limited options… how generous of you.”

The two of you step off the train, and looking around for the men you’re asked to meet. As passengers got on and off, there was a small group that came your way and you stood next to Tangerine as they got closer.

“Where’s the case?” The tall one asked, standing center of the three other men.

“Lemon is keeping it safe right now.”

“Then who’s this?” 

Tangerine glanced at you, shrugging, “I’m a professional, I’ve got my back up… Peach.”

You wanted to narrow your eyes at him with a burning stare, but you maintained your composure to convince them. It was one step closer to getting the case, and it wasn’t the worse operative name.

The four men chuckle at it, and you cross your arms from the reaction, “So, are we done here?” You asked, “We’ve obviously got places to be now since your boss is up our asses about his case.” 

At first, they replied with scowls until Tangerine took a step in front of you, your chest basically touching his back.

“‘Cuse her attitude, it’s been a long night.” Tangerine acted as if he were in charge of you, “But, we’re all good now. The plan is still Kyoto, ta-ra now.” He faked a grin, pushing you toward the door as the alert sounded for boarding.

Before you knew it, the train was moving and the both of you plopped into two empty seats in the quiet car. As you watched Tangerine type out a text to Lemon, you scoffed, crossing your arms as you faced the window out to the city life of Japan.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Well, Lemon still hasn’t found the person with the case… fucker could have gotten off without us knowing.” 

You turned your head, “So, that’s means I’m off the list of the accused?”

“...I just don’t trust you.” He trailed, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket.

“Aw, still a little hurt from our last encounter?” You pouted, “Didn’t take you for such a softie, Tan.”

Tangerine clenched his jaw. He had little patience for your sass, but it was fun to fuck with him. You gently placed your hand on the top of his thigh, hidden under the table, and refused to lose eye contact with him. There were four stops left so, it was time to put a spontaneous plan B into motion: make him let his guard down for you.

You batted your eyelashes, “Tell me, do you still think about our night together? I didn’t mean to leave so quickly, but we had something… yeah?” You taunted him, your hand moving up his thigh. Just as your fingers were going to unbutton his pants, Tangerine quickly grabbed your wrist and put it back on his knee.

“You wanna play games, darling?” He grunted, “Then, I’ll play your game.”

You couldn’t help but admit that your heart beat against your chest, like the air in the cart had been sucked away and before you knew it, his right hand was running up your thigh until he ripped the rest of your stocking. You almost gasped, not wanting to attract attention, but he pulled it enough where your panties were exposed.

“Don’t get shy on me now, love.” Tangerine said under his breath as his hand entering between your legs. Once he pushed the black lace to the side, his two thick fingers entered your slit. The hand you had on his thigh suddenly met the wrist of his hand working your pussy.

His blue eyes softened, feeling how wet you already were and how you tried to restrain from arching your back against the seat. Being in plain light, you bit your bottom lip and concentrated on the scene passing by– obviously, not easy to focus on when Tangerine is gliding his fingers in and out of your wet slit. You could scream, knowing how deep they were from feeling his cool rings against your skin.

“I’d rub your clit, but I’d hate to make you cum right here… in front of everyone.” He looked around, as if he weren’t edging you, “You don’t really deserve to anyways.”

You took one big gulp, your hand gripping the arm rest now and you let him keep going. For as long as he wanted to and however fast he wanted to. As big of a talk you made, you were suddenly puddy in his hands– quite literally– and God, you didn’t want him to stop.

He pressed his lips against your ear, “Are you close?”

“Hmm.” You could barely let out a word, “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me now so you can cum.” He chuckled.

Just like that, he quickly pulled his hand away and he saw how his fingers were coated in your glistening cum. As he went to place them in his mouth, you pulled his wrist and tasted your own cum on your tongue. 

All he could think was, “Fuck, her tongue is soft…” and reminisce the memory of his dick pushing down your throat.

You kissed his fingers before setting his hand back on his lap, and he watched you pant. Such a beautiful mess, he thought again.

Pushing your skirt back down, you crossed your legs as you ran your fingers through your hair. “You fucking ripped my nice tights…” You huffed, pulling the band from the waist and pulling them down your legs. You balled them up as you put your shoes back on, and stuffed them between the wall of the train and the seat.

You blew a breath past your lips, “Alright, that was fun but I gotta go.” You gulped, attempting to get up but he pushed your leg back down so you basically say back down.

“You’re stayin’ right here.” He said, not looking at you but around the cart, “Because the next stop, you’re gettin’ off… not like how you did right now but-”

You cut him off, “What?” You scoffed, your cheeks feeling heated, “No, I’m not getting off this train until I have the case!”

You didn’t mean to spill your own secret, but your guard had been put down. Shit.

He smirked, “See, I knew you had somethin’ to do with the case. Now you’re definitely gettin’ off at the next stop or I’ll-”

Cut off again, he sees Lemon walking down, also without the case in hand, and Tangerine quickly gets up. He met him halfway in the aisle, so you got up to see what was going on and if it was about the case.

“Who’s this? Looks familiar…” Lemon trailed as he pointed at you, then back at Tangerine.

“She’s no one-”

“Actually we passed each other in Copenhagen. You called me an Emily.” You grinned, tilting your head.

“Ah, yes. Emily, very kind but a tad bossy…” Lemon nodded but then narrowed his eyes, “Lookin’ for the case too, yeah?... unless you have it and we’re runnin’ around like headless chickens.” You could see his hand reaching into his jacket.

“I wish. Trust me…” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, and she was just leaving on the next stop. No business being around here, muckin’ about.” Tangerine said without looking at you again, just making eye contact with Lemon.

“You treat me like I’m incompetent yet I beat both your asses back in Copenhagen and managed to steal the getaway car. Why don’t you two leave and let me handle whoever has the case.” You shoved past Tangerine, “Fucking amateurs.” You muttered under your breath.

Lemon turned around, Tangerine behind him, “She’s definitely is an Emily.”

Tangerine rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get take care of her. You check back down that way.” He clenched his jaw, pushing back his rolled sleeves.

♡ ♡ ♡

The door opened to the first class cart, already imagining your hands wrapped around the Prince’s neck once you had an eye on her. Dim orange lights lit your way, a few people asleep with blankets on top of them. 

Just as you came close to the lounge toward the end, a hand gripped your wrist. Before asking any questions, your other hand quickly swung down on the other’s wrist, thinking it was the Prince, but you were met with another set of bright eyes.

“Let go of me.” You muttered under your breath, not trying to get anyone’s attention.

Like deja vu, Tangerine pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door. It wasn’t as tight as the other passenger bathroom, but still had little room to move around with two people.

“Do I gotta tell you again?” Tan practically growled.

“You can’t tell me what to do. What do you want from me that you keep cornering me like this?” Your tone matched his.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils, and suddenly felt the tension. He couldn’t take his eyes from you, never admitting that he had been thinning about you since Copenhagen, so instead his lips met yours.

You weren’t surprised, but you missed his lips. You bit his bottom lip, your body relaxing as you fell into his arms. Your noses brushed together, foreheads close before you unbuttoned his shirt, your hands meeting his soft skin. It slipped past his toned arms, and he pressed your hips against the sink counter.

As you lifted your leg by his side, he put his hand underneath your knee to keep it high. Tangerine kissed and nipped at your neck after taking your shirt off, tossing it on top of the closed toilet seat. You ran your fingers through his messy curls, gripping them as you shared hungry kisses. His hard pressed against his slacks, rubbing against your inner thigh.

“You’ve got about four minutes, Tan.” You said between kisses, “I don’t know if you’re that fast.”

“You underestimate me, love.” He grunted, “It’s gettin’ a bit old.”

Suddenly, he hiked your skirt and you played along, spreading your legs enough for his body to move between them. He quickly unzipped his pants while his right hand rubbed your wet clit and the left hand against your neck. 

You giggled, biting your bottom lip before slipping the tip of his cock into your pussy. You held back your gasp, giggling instead to get a rise out of him, but it just made him squeeze your neck a bit.

“Almost forgot how big you were.” You pouted, but he thrusted inside of you. You audibly gasped, and kissed his thumb pressed against your bottom lip.

At first he was slow-paced, purposefully making you beg for it. He knew your weak spots yet his head fell against your shoulder, a light whimper escaping his throat remembering how tight your cunt was. He held your leg up again, giving him an angle to work with and his cock bottomed out inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” You croaked, “God, you’re so… big. Stretching me out so good, baby.” You whined.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Tan cursed, his hips bucking as your skins slapped together. He was eager to make you cum, shattering in his arms and falling apart like he adored. His hand slapped against your ass cheek, kneading it the closer he got. 

You leaned your head back, rolling your eyes back and could see stars, Tangerine practically lifting you off your feet as your walls began to tighten around his hard cock.

“Please… please let me cum.” You begged, your eyes barely open, “I wanna cum. Please.”

“Gotta beg a little more, darling.” He gulped as his pace got faster, not realizing how strong he was, “Keep those pretty eyes lookin’ at me.”

You arched your back, “Ah, please!… I want your fucking cum filling me up. Make me cum all over your cock, baby.” Your pitch elevated, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!”

He grunted against your shoulder, giving it a small bite before saying, “Cum, cum for me, love.” He lighty gasped but tried to mask it by kissing your shoulder.

Your fingers pulled his messy curls, not able to explain the complete bliss running throughout every vein and nerve in your body. His hand covered your mouth just as yours covered his, muffing your defeated moans when the two of your released inside your pussy.

As you came down from your highs, the two of you let out tired chuckles. His cock was still inside you, feeling your warm walls as he shared one last sloppy kiss. 

Your thumb ran across his cheek, “Better than Copenhagen?”

He half-smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Ultimately, you agreed to let them take it from there. It was two more stops, and the train was coming to it’s next destination. You and Tangerine stood by the door, watching it slowly open and your stubbornness was eating you up. Although it was a risk to get off the train, seemed there was more than the two of you looking for the case. If anything, you loss some pay.

“You better get off now.” Tangerine told you, the two of you watching people pass.

You hummed, “I know… hope you can tell me how it goes if we ever meet again.” You sighed, placing your hands on his chest. Your eyes met with his, and he furrowed his brows. You twisted your hips, taking a deep breath before quickly meeting your lips with his again. Tender and slow.

 As you pulled your face from his, you nodded, “Bye, Tangerine.”

He expected for you to pass, and he actually thought he was going to miss you.

Instead, you forcefully pushed him out the door and it closed him out from coming back in. You rolled your eyes, walking up to the window as you watched the train pull from the station.

“I really am good.” You smirked.

[lizzxoxo]

WE NEED MORE ATJ FANFICS YALL😭 I LITERALLY KEEP SEARCHING EVERYWHERE,HERE,AO3,WATTPAD,I CANT FIND ANYTHING JUST SOME OLD FICS THAT IVE ALREADY READ LIKE 100 TIMEEEES😭😭

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: Tangerine x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, car sex, unprotected sex, horny and nasty<3

A/n: been meaning to write for this amazing man for like, half a year, but made this in 20 minutes in a rush of hornieness. Enjoy, my children😌

That was one of your usual shopping outings. Same old scenario - you went to the downtown of London with just one intention - spend exorbitant amount of money on superfluous togs. That’s how it always was. But not today - Tangerine looked exceedingly great today, or, maybe, you were way too horny - either way you couldn’t hold your hands off your man, pawing at his crotch in the middle of the ride so that he had to pull off the road to the first parking lot available, so you could finally get what you wanted. And so you did - bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it - diligently working your hips in wide circles, surely making the car shake.

You were perched on his lap, facing the steering wheel, Tangerine’s big hands roamed all over your sensitive body, playing with your soft tits and giving your ass occasional slap. You panted and moaned wantonly, thanking all gods and heavens for tinted windows this car had while desperately grinding your hips down onto Tangerine’s, feeling his thick cock rubbing against all delicious spots of your pussy.

- Easy, love, - Tangerine drawled behind you, amused with your sudden eagerness. One strong arm came to circle around your front, pressing your back flush against his hot chest. The sudden thrust of his hips up into yours made you choke on your own moan, legs growing weaker at the intensity of pleasure.

You leaned all of your weight against Tangerine’s body, lifting your hips a slightest bit up to allow him some space to thrust up into your drenched cunt. His nimble fingers pinched and twisted your nipples painfully, only bringing you closer to your orgasm.

- Rub that fuckin pussy for me, yeah? Rub it for me, you dirty girl, - Tangerine rasped into your ear, his touch felt scorchingly hot, mustache tickling your skin, causing numerous goosebumps to erupt. You obliged to his command, fingers coming to skillfully rub your swollen clit in circles, causing your pussy to clench harder around man’s throbbing shaft.

Tangerine let out a deep groan at the addictive feeling, his hips snapped into yours harder and faster, filling the small space of his car with lustful sounds of his balls smacking against your ass mixed with both of your desperate moans. You felt a small knot in the pit of your stomach growing tighter, your fingers rubbed little bead of nerves with more vigor as your free hand came behind to tangle in a perfectly styled curls on the back of your lover’s head.

- Holy shit, ‘m gonna cum, fill that little pussy so deep with my fuckin cum. You’d love that, huh? Walk around while it drips down your thighs, hm? Would you?

- Yesyesyes, Tan, please I need it so bad. Gimme your cum, want it inside, - you pleaded, eyes rolling back at the thought of actually walking around London with his cum leaking down your legs, so that everyone can see what you two were doing just half an hour ago.

Your nape snugly fell into the crook between Tangerine’s neck and shoulder, relaxing your body and letting him pound into you from beneath.

- Fuck this little cunt was made for me, ‘m so close, - Tangerine mumbled into your ear as he pumped his dick into you, coming closer and closer to his own release. You only nodded absentmindedly, already feeling euphoria slowly engulfing your body.

And with the final swipe of your fingers over swollen clit the dam broke - bright stars littered your vision, body convulsing in orgasmic spasms as intense pleasure flooded all over your belly. The quivering of your velvety walls around Tangerine’s needy cock pushed him right over the edge - he moaned and groaned like a wild animal while emptying heavy loads of cum into your warmth, filling you up with his seed to the brim.

A few moments passed in silence as you laid on top of your man, both of you panting heavily, heads buzzing with pleasant white noise. Tangerine tabbed on your belly softly, leaving a small kiss on the slope of your bare shoulder.

- Hop off, pretty girl. We got a lot to do today.

With that you slipped off his cock, putting on your cute panties as fast as possible, so that none of his cum dribbles out of your greedy pussy. 🤍

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Indulge writers with some feedback!💖

[annoyance-for-u]

My real name is Angel---

THIS WAS REALLY SELF INDULGENT FOR ME I LOVE IT 🤩🤩🤩💖🥹🥹

200 mile (per hour) club {tangerine}

bullet train tangerine x fem!reader SMUTTY (minors DNI)

requested: n/a

words: 5.8k

a/n: I have had this thought for weeks since finally watching bullet train and writing this very much was a “fuck it we ball” moment. also canon is taken as a suggestion during this fic because in order for things to work, some of the plot must be ignored

This fic contains smut! I don’t normally post smut here, and have rarely reblogged smuts. But… i really wanted to write this and share it so here we are. The reader is afab :) and the codename is… a personal favourite 😅. the original idea/draft of this fic was sent to @jangofctts but as said above, fuck it we ball and the full fic gets written!

warnings: afab!reader, swearing, smut!, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation (fem), p in v, bad attempts at northern british vernacular, use of the word cunt instead of pussy (not intentional it's just... it flows better), no proofreading we die like men, canon is a suggestion (aka canon variance),

pronouns: she/her

MINORS DNI. any minors liking/reblogging/commenting on this fic will be blocked.

(this is your reminder that i am australian and therefore use british english and punctuation. while i do make errors, often times it is a difference in english type)

You wedged your phone between your shoulder and ear as your partner, Evaline, spoke about the nuances of a cartoon they had gotten really into while the pair of you had been in Japan. 

“Listen, Ev,” you handed the teller your crumpled yen notes with a smile - asking for a ticket to Kyoto - as you spoke down the phone, “I love you and am happy to listen to you talk- Arigatou Gozaimasu- to you talk, but can this wait until after I’m done?” Despite being partners, they were the one to stay in whatever hotel room you were set up in and work as your handler. 

Squeezing between the crowds of people, you quickly made your way toward the bullet train station. You glanced at your ticket, checking the platform for the umpteenth time since getting the ticket to make sure you were walking in the right direction. 

“You know that if I bottle this up, it will only make it worse when you get back.” You snorted in amusement, swapping the ear your phone was pressed to. “But fine, okay. I’ll keep conversation job oriented.” You thanked them just as you stepped onto the train. 

Carefully, you made your way toward your seat, sliding down into it before unzipping your small backpack. 

“So your target will be getting on the train in two stops, but won’t be getting off until Kyoto so you have time.” Out from the small pack, you pulled out a book, leaning back to rest against the wall and kick your feet up onto the joined seat beside you. The perfect way to carefully watch the aisle. “But you will be at Kyoto in about two and a bit hours. You read the briefing I sent you?” It was their not-so-subtle way of asking you if you actually knew who your target was.

“You sat beside me as I read it.” You laughed. 

“Just checking.” Their voice sing-songed down the phone. “Last thing; codename.” You breathed out, almost hoping that they had forgotten and you would be able to choose your own. Sometimes you thought that Eva gave you your codenames to get back at you for something, or just to have a laugh from their end of the jobs. Only once did they forget and you got to pick your own codename. But only once. 

“Alright, what is it this time?” You could practically hear their smirk as they replied;

“Angel.”

--

Between jobs, sometimes you and Evaline got to hang out and just relax. Although you were partners, you didn’t always get moments together were you could just be friends.

So you ordered room service of the most expensive wines and liquors on the list and got drunk together. 

As usually happens, the drunken chatter turned to a game of truth or dare, asking questions that had never come up in your friendship or partnership before. 

“Okay, okay okay,” despite already having your full attention, Eva tapped at your knee. “Truth or dare?” Although the dares were quickly discarded after you ate a full spoon of hot sauce and Eva nearly threw up after putting nearly a full banana down their throat, the question was still asked.

“Truth please.” You fell back as you dragged out the ‘e’ sound.

“What petname makes your knees go weak?” 

---

“Are you fucking with me right now?” You nearly dropped your phone. You heard the sounds of Eva throwing their head back laughing, and the short shriek as they nearly fell off their chair. 

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. That’s the name you’re stuck with.” They reply between laughs while you let out a hum, half closing your eyes suspiciously. “Anyway, enjoy your book. I’ll check in with you when the target gets on the train.” 

You felt your body shift forward slightly as the train finally took off from Tokyo station and you let yourself sink comfortably into your chair. The book you were reading was one that was worn from being dragged around for the last few months and many, many attempts to read it. So you had been taking every opportunity to read little bits and pieces when and where you could. You unfolded a dogear you had made in the page and continued reading the beat-up little book, the sound of the train speeding along its tracks becoming a soft white noise in the background. 

Just as you flip the page, out the corner of your eye you see someone sit down in one of the seats opposite you. You let your eyes flick up to see who it is, and try to hide the way your breath catches as you recognise him. 

His hair is a little longer, and his three-piece is all in place and free of blood, but you had run into him enough times to know him with the smallest of looks despite all the differences. 

But you return your eyes back to your book, pretending that there wasn’t a reaction somewhere inside of you at seeing him again. 

“I hope you aren’t here alone.” You spoke without looking up. “Nobody needs to deal with only one half of the Wonder Twins.” He let out a snort and you saw his fingers appear on the top of your book as he leaned across the table to push the book down. The forced movement had your eyes finally met his. 

“Never go on a job without him.” He winked, doing very little to try to hide his smirk.  You rolled your eyes, marking your page and swinging your legs off the seat to face him properly. “Good to see you again, gorgeous. Been a while. Too long really.” He looked you up and down slowly, as he spoke, tilting his head and twisting one of his rings. 

“Not long enough.” You replied with a half smirk, and he raised a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “So, what’s your name today?” He leaned back with pride, opening his thighs slightly and folding his arms. 

“I’m Tangerine, he’s Lemon.” You couldn’t help the laugh that broke through, and your hand shot to your mouth to cover the rest of the noise. 

“Wow, your handler must hate you.” You said, shaking your head and amusement still present in your voice. Tangerine’s eyebrows pinched as his mouth dropped open a little.

“First, we have no handler, thank you very much, darlin’. Second, I thought the names were quite clever.” You raised your hands in surrender, tilting your head. “But alright, if you think our’s are so bad, what name ‘ve you got, hm?”

If you had paused, for just a moment, before you spoke, you would have realised far sooner.

“For now, I’m Angel.” When he repeated the name back to you with a hum, you realised. Somehow, Evaline had known he would be on this train with you, and that you would cross paths. They knew about the business flirtationship you had with Tangerine, having been stuck listening on more than one occasion, and they were also very good at remembering things, including you drunkenly telling them what petname turns your knees to jelly (and a man who sometimes also had that power). 

Your mouth opened a little as you let out a small breath and silently prayed that he didn’t notice your reaction. Once you recomposed yourself, you reached for your phone. 

“So, Angel,” Tangerine leaned forward and leaned on the table, flexing his shoulders slightly and you had to fight the way your brain gave you the image of him calling you angel while his shoulders flexed above you, “what’re you doing in Tokyo? Business, or pleasure?” You glanced at him over the top of your phone as you sent Eva an all-caps message of thinly veiled threats. Tangerine emphasised the word pleasure in both his tone and a slight raise of his eyebrows.”

“Business, for now.” You meant the statement more as you would be a tourist once the job was done, but the moment you stopped talking, you could see a particular look in his eye. 

“‘For now, aye, Angel?” Tangerine’s tongue ran along the back of his top teeth, and your core tightened. You could only hum your reply, worried that if you tried to say anything your voice would break. 

You notice as his eyes look past you, over your shoulder and down the aisle to the door. He nodded at whoever he saw - you assumed his brother as he never worked with anyone else - before looking back at you and tugging his blazer tighter over his shoulder. 

“So sorry to love you ‘n’ leave you, Angel,” Tangerine stood in the aisle and ran his hands down his chest, smoothing down the fabric, “but business calls. Maybe I’ll see you later.” With a final smirk and wink, he walked away. You listened for the sound of the train carriage door opening and closing, before you let out a sigh and sunk down into your seat.

You hand shot out as you suddenly reached for your phone, Evaline’s number already on speed-dial. The moment they answered, you skipped over pleasantries, quietly yelling at them down the phone. 

“How the fuck did you know he would be on this train?” 

“Ah, so he found you, then?” You could hear the smirk in their voice as they brushed past your rudeness

---

The first time you met Tangerine and Lemon, they were doing a snatch-and-grab in a warehouse that you were in the process of clearing. They had walked in, guns drawn, to you stood over a body in the middle of pulling a machete out of his throat. 

The sound of moving feet and the cocking of guns had you freeze and look up at the men. You mirrored each other as you each slowly raised your weapons and took the other in. 

They were in clean suits, ties gently tugged loose, and each had a plastic poncho tucked into their belts for easy access. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The shorter of the pair spoke, his accented voice bouncing off the walls in the otherwise silent room. 

“I’m not with them.” You lifted a bloodied boot and kicked one of the bodies by you as you spoke, joking and trying to gauge whether the new-comers were the backup or not. 

“I can see that, love.” The other man tilted his head forward with a smirk, and you ignored the warmth that began to rise. “You just here for the kill?” You lowered your weapon, hoping that they would mirror your movement now that you knew they weren’t on the same side as the various men who laid in pools of their own blood around you. 

“Take whatever you’re here for.” You gestured around to the doors behind you. “I’m just finishing up.” You dragged the machete along the inside of your sleeved elbow, cleaning off the blood before sheathing it at your hip.

You had walked out of the building shortly after that interaction, but the moment you met Eva in the waiting car, they turned to you immediately with a smirk.

“You good?” You sunk slightly in the seat and tried disappearing into the plastic sheet that protected it from blood and other fluids. 

“That taller one was… goddamn.” 

---

It was the first of a half-dozen run-ins with the twins, each time talking more and occasionally helping each other when things got sticky. And of course, Evaline made comments about your attraction. 

“Did you suggest this job on purpose or did you find out they were here afterward?”  You were almost afraid to hear the answer. Evaline was beyond clever, and should they have wanted, they would easily have been able to made it into a tech sector of a government agency. But instead, they chose to work with you and use their brains for less than legal means. So it wouldn’t have surprised you if they had gotten into one of their phones, or seen them on one of the many cameras in airports and around Tokyo. 

“Maybe this, maybe that.” Eva giggled at you, and you could hear the shiteating grin on their face. “Enjoy the view!” They sung the last syllable before hanging up on you, and you swore, slamming your phone down into the table. 

You felt the train pull into the first stop and you let yourself recline back again and relax. You weren’t normally on edge during a job, it was something you had been doing since you were eighteen and while you had nerves and your brain ran a hundred-mile a minute, it was never something that had you feeling it in your fingertips and the back of your neck. 

Though the edge that Tangerine had you on was different. It wasn’t one where you were wanting to look over your shoulder, hoping your reflexes wouldn’t be needed. But he had you in anticipation. Your body telling you that you needed him and was waiting for his fingers to graze your skin. And now he had that cursed codename to wrap his accent around. 

With the knowledge that Tangerine was on the same train as you, the book was no longer of interest. You had to read the same sentence over and over before you actually absorbed it. So as the train took off again, you shoved the book away and climbed to your feet. 

---

  “Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.” The twins jumped at the sound of your voice, letting out f-bombs as Lemon held a hand to his chest. 

After making your way through train cars, exploring out of both curiosity and in case of emergency, you found the twins having an apparently heated conversation in the baggage area of their train car. They were engrossed in a seemingly heated conversation about ass cheeks. You weren’t entirely sure, only hearing the tail-end before deciding to interrupt.

On your way down the corridor, you glanced at each person in their seats, pausing for a millisecond when you saw the twenty-something with face tattoos angrily slumped in his seat. 

The twins looked at each other quickly, then over your shoulder to where you were pointing with your thumb back down to where he sat before finally back to you.

“Depends on who you think that is, Angel.” You rolled your eyes at Tangerine then shifted your weight so that you were more fully facing Lemon. 

“Are you idiots kidnapping or returning the homeless-looking White Death’s son?” In the cramped luggage space, you did your best to put your hands on your hips. “Because one of those is certain death.” 

“Aww, you worried ‘bout us, Angel?” You let out a scoff at his comment. 

“You wish, I just need to know how far away from you I need to stay.” Tangerine muttered a joking ouch and you and Lemon share a look. 

“Returning ‘im.” Lemon ignored his brother, already used to and over his attempts to flirt. “Best of the best tasked with bringing him and his ransom back.” You cocked your head with a teasing smile. 

“Oh, ‘the best’, huh?” You replied with a hummed laugh. “Well, if that’s all… best of luck with,” you made a rough circular gesture with your hands, “all of that. I’ll probably be seeing you later.” You stepped between the two men, though Lemon stepped further away when giving you space to pass through. You could hear their interrupted argument reignite as the door closed behind you, and you continued to make your way through passenger cars until you reached the bar car. 

Inside, you saw a man clutching a bottle of dark liquor under a blanket, eyes hidden by sunglasses. You ignored him, not one to judge someone getting black-out drunk on a train, and stepped behind the bar, reaching around until you managed to make yourself a simple vodka and sprite.

Leaning on the bar counter as you sipped your drink, you took in the unconscious man. You almost choked on your drink as you realised who it was. The Wolf. You scrambled to pull your phone out of your pocket, speed dialling one of the only contacts you had in your phone. 

“Eva, we have a problem.” You carefully walked over to the Wolf as you spoke, noticing the blood on his hands and the lack of movement under the blue blanket. “Wolf got on the train early.” You quickly went back to the counter and swapped out your now-empty glass for a pair of ice tongs. Using the tongs, you moved the blanket away from the Wolf and found staining the white of his suit was a pool of dark blood, entry wound clear as day. “And it looks like somebody got to him first.”

“What do you mean? No, that’s not possible.” You could hear Evaline frantically type as they spoke. “God fucking dammit.” They sighed. “Fine just… take a photo of his body. Hopefully we can convince them that you killed him so we can still get paid.” You did as you were told, knowing that you would have to spin this in a way that would not end up with the pair of you getting killed for lying. 

After taking the photo you moved the blanket back to where it had rested, not wanting whoever killed him to know their victim had been found. 

“I guess you can sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride now.” Eva sounded defeated as they spoke. You hummed in agreement, then turned and left the car to return to your seat. 

On your way back to your original car, you saw a stressed looking Tangerine walking toward you. It took him a moment to see you as he checked each person sitting down while he walked, and when he did the stress fell from his expression and was replaced with a cocky smirk. 

“Angel!” The way he said the name sent a pulse to your core, but you refused to acknowledge it, not wanting to show him the effect the petname combined with his accent had on you. “Good to see you, gorgeous.” He finally reached you, barely a step in front as he looked down at you. “What’s up?” 

“My job on this train’s been done.” You shrugged. “Get to enjoy the ride to Kyoto.” The corner of Tangerine’s mouth quirked. 

“Wanna give me a hand with mine?” You couldn’t tell if the offer was serious, or if it was a friend or potential business partner. But there was a greedy and horny part of your brain that wanted to spend as much time with him as you could before leaving Japan. 

“Oh you must be in a lot of trouble to need my help.” You turned around, beginning to walk back in the direction you had just come from. “Who’re we looking for?” You felt him come up close behind you, the brush of his hand against yours. 

“Can’t get enough of me, huh, Angel?” Tangerine’s voice was low in your ear, his breath hitting flyaways. Your breath hitched for a moment hearing his voice so deep and close to you. Then just as quick as the invasion of personal space came, he was gone again. “Some geezer in a bucket hat with thick rim glasses. Stole som’ing from us.” You thought you were imagining the sound of a smile in his voice, attributing it to his usual cocky demeanour. 

As you walked together, you and Tangerine spoke about yourselves - as best you could without revealing too much about your personal identities. You were quick to notice the way he would always include at least one “angel” in each sentence, saying it slightly differently each time. 

You felt Tangerine slide his hands onto your hips from behind, holding your breath as he leaned down and whispered into your ear. 

“Maybe once this is all done, we can spend some time together, Angel.” You spun around and felt his hands slide across your covered skin as you did, trying to compose yourself. Your body betrayed you though, your thighs very obviously squeezing together slightly, caused by the way he all but moaned the name into your ear.

“Fuck it.” You stepped back, letting his hands slide away, then grabbed one of his blazer lapels, dragging him the short walk to the cramped train bathroom. He made a surprised noise but made no effort to fight you. 

You pushed him down onto the closed toilet, turning to lock the stall door and spun on your heel to look at him. Tangerine had his legs spread, showing off his thighs as he let his hands rest on his upper thighs. He had a smirk on his face, only breaking it to poke out his tongue and lick his lips. You dragged your bottom lip into your mouth slowly, biting it gently. 

“Well fuck, love.” You dropped your lip with a short exhale, feeling that last little bit of resolve crumble. In the cramped bathroom, it only took you two steps to get to him, but you paused just in front of his thighs. “You’re welcome to sit.” Tangerine closed his thighs and brought his hands back to your hips, thumbs pushing up the fabric of your shirt to expose peaks of skin. You stepped forward, guided by his hands, and sat down on his strong thighs. 

It was the closest you had ever been to him, and the smell of his aftershave mixed with the feeling of his thumbs on your skin had you using what little resolve you had to stop your hips from rocking, grinding down to create any sort of friction. 

Tangerine had tormented you since he found you with your codename, and you could feel your heartbeat in your core grow each time he said it. It was cruel, how much he made you need him. 

Your hands refound their home on his lapels, pulling that last small gap closed to bring his mouth to yours. 

The kisses were hungry, desperate. Breathing each other in relief at finally having the intimate contact. Tangerine brought one hand up to the back of your neck, applying pressure with his thumb where your jaw met just below your ear. He used the change in hand placement to bring you even closer to him, and you let him, greedily shifting your hips closer to him with a slight grind. He hums out a groan against your mouth and you feel the tightening of his dark slacks. His mouth moved to your jaw and neck, leaving mouthy kisses against your skin. You let your hips continue to rock against him, noticing his own hips move slightly underneath you. Moving your hands away from his blazer briefly, you made light work of the buttons on his white shirt, loosening his tie so it hung undone around his neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, Tan.” You knew it was pathetic, confessing your long-term attraction for the British assassin. His fingers dug into your skin lightly at your words. 

“Feelin’s mutual, Angel.” His words were low against your skin before he quickly moved away from you. “Hold tight.” You tightened your grip on his blazer, quickly wrapping your legs around him as he stood up in the small bathroom space. 

Tangerine in his haste all but dropped you on the sink counter, and you let your legs fall from around him. One of his hands moved down and began its work undoing your jeans, running the backs of his fingers along your stomach and hips so he could feel the soft skin there, and you shivered at his touch and the sudden cool of his rings. 

When his hand made it to your hip, his other moved down to mirror it, two fingers on each side and tucked under your waistbands. 

Your hands slid to his shoulders and you watched through hooded eyes as Tangerine gradually moved down to a low squat, taking your bottoms with him. You shivered both from the cool of the train air conditioner and the way he was staring at you. As he stood, you kicked off your shoes and pants, allowing you to reopen your legs fully and allow Tangerine back into place, his hips pressed against yours. 

His mouth was quick to return to yours, eager to nip at your bottom lip and distract you from the cold of his rings and the feel of his hand sliding its way up your thigh.

You jolted when his thumb started rubbing light circles around your clit, whimpering into his mouth at the sudden change in stimulation. 

“Tan.” You sighed out his name against his mouth and to your relief, he began to move his thumb faster, adding a little more pressure as he did. You could feel him smirk against your mouth, and you retaliated by bringing one hand to the back of his neck and weaving fingers through his curls, giving them a slight tug. Tangerine grunted, pulling away while you held his lower lip gently between your teeth. 

“All good, Angel?” You hummed out an affirmative, knowing your voice wouldn’t hold, not when his thumb never stopped moving. 

Gradually, his hand moved down until Tangerine’s fingers were met with your building slick. You sucked in a harsh breath as he swiped two fingers up your cunt, collecting as much of the fluid as he could. He pulled his hand completely and you watched as he stared in fascination and you followed his line of sight to see as Tangerine rubbed his thumb and forefingers together, pulling away occasionally to see tiny strings connect his fingers. 

At the feeling of your eyes on him, Tangerine’s own flicked up to you. With a smirk, he quickly returned one hand to your core and the other sat on your bare hip, the hem of your shirt bunching on his wrist. Distracting you with a tight squeeze of his hand on your side, he slid a finger into you, dragging it out slowly only to quickly replace it with two fingers. 

Your head fell back against the mirror behind you and your mouth fell open, as Tangerine began an almost torturous paced drag of his fingers in and out of your cunt, matched by the movement of his thumb on your clit. Your hands blindly grabbed at his arms and shoulders, while Tangerine left open-mouthed kisses against your neck and jawline. 

As your nails dug into your skin, Tangerine moved between stretching his fingers inside of you, curling them upward to draw a broken moan from your throat, and pulsing his fingers in and out of you at an ever changing pace. He licked up the column of your throat as you whined out his name, and with every movement he made, he seemed to be trying to figure out which sound was his favourite. 

The wet sounds of his fingers working you were all but drowned out but your moaning and whining and pleading. 

“Tan, please-” your beg was cut off by the feeling of his spit hitting your cunt, adding an extra fluid into the mix quickly coating his hand, “need more.”

“I’ll fuck you properly in a minute, angel, promise.” You felt his low voice against your jaw. “Want you to cum on m’ fingers first.” Despite his generally cocky attitude, Tangerine wasn’t mean. He wasn’t going to get you so worked up with his fingers not to let you cum. 

Your grip on his arms tightened, desperate to grab onto something as Tangerine’s brutal pace never slowed. You felt the knot get tighter and tighter and your eyes rolled back, unable to bring your head up off the mirror behind you. With a broken moan, your cunt tightened in pulses around his fingers before finally the tightness let go. Tangerine’s fingers and thumb never stopped moving, greedily working you through your orgasm as your chest heaved and whines and moans bounced around the tiny bathroom. 

Tangerine slowly pulled his fingers out and you whined as he did, still sensitive. Once you managed to bring your head up and reopen your eyes, you were met with the glorious sight of Tangerine lazily sucking his fingers clean, eyes half lidded at the taste. 

“Angel, that was the most gorgeous thing ‘ve ever seen.” Your cheeks warmed at his words. “And you taste just…” Tangerine let out a short hummed moan, the only description he could think of. 

You reached out with slightly shaky hands, pulling him close enough that you could reach down and undo his belt, letting you at the fastenings of his slacks. Once they were undone, you moved your hands up slightly, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and pushing it back so you could drag your hands across his stomach. Your mind was still lightly foggy and you almost couldn’t believe the sight was real. 

Not that you would ever admit it, but there were more than a few nights where you had dreamt of what shirtless Tangerine would look like. And more than a few where your fingers had worked while you imagined they were his. But reality was so, so much better. 

Tangerine pulled you from your thoughts with his thumb gently running across your bottom lip.

“Still wi’ me?” There was a softness in his eyes, and his cocky smirk had dropped. 

“Yeah. Still here.” Your words were soft, and Tangerine smiled. 

With your hands still resting on his stomach, Tangerine reached down with his free hand, the other still holding your jaw, and thumbed away the elastic of his underwear to pull out his cock. You watched for a moment as he gently stroked his already hard cock, before pushing his hand away with one of your own, taking his cock in your hand and slowly gliding it up and down. You felt the weight, the veins, and your eyes flicked up to see his roll back for just a moment. 

You slide your hand up from his stomach to his chest, and gently lean forward to nip at his jaw. As you do, however, you slip back slightly, and fall into the small sink. You let out a tiny shriek as you fell, and Tangerine’s eyes darted open. He lets out a snort and an amused breath falls from your lips. You shook your head, taking your hands away from him completely to place them on the counter and pushed yourself out of the sink. 

“You all good, Angel?” Tangerine put no effort into hiding his amused smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Maybe the sink isn’t the best place for this.” A shit-eating grin made its way onto Tangerine’s face. 

Before you could react, Tangerine pulled you toward him and you immediately locked your legs around his waist. You both let out quiet moans as his cock brushed against your slick-coated cunt, the friction against your clit encouraging you to roll your hips again. 

He picked you up as you ground against him and took two steps so your back met with the wall. Once you were pressed firmly against it and Tangerine knew that you wouldn’t fall, he moved one hand down and adjusted his cock so that he head pressed against your cunt. He dragged it up and down a few times, collecting your slick and cum as lube, before pressing in. 

Although he had stretched you nicely with his fingers, Tangerine’s cock pushed in far further, and you whined at the tight feeling of him stretching out your cunt. He moved slowly, letting you adjust to his size, until finally he bottomed out. Tangerine rolled his hips, not pulling out very far but still creating a nice friction while you got used to the full feeling. 

With a gasp of his name, you told him to move. And move he did. At an almost blinding pace, Tangerine pulled out until just his tip was inside of you, before pushing all the way back in. He braced himself with one hand squeezing the underside of your thigh, and the other pressed firmly against the wall beside your head. 

Your cunt squeezed around him as he moved. Although you both wanted to take your time and enjoy this at a slower pace, you were on a bullet train and he had a job to finish. So as fast as his hips would allow him, Tangerine ploughed into you. 

Once again, your head fell back against the surface behind you with a light thud, and Tangerine immediately returned to his assault on your neck and anywhere he could reach. You knew that in an hour, all the skin on your neck and jaw would be coloured purple and red, hickeys blossoming all across the skin. And while you knew the comments you would get from Eva and the looks you would get from other passengers, you didn’t care. 

Leaving one hand to scratch at Tangerine’s chest and shoulder, you brought the other down to rub circles on your clit. 

Against your skin, you felt the low rumble of Tangerine’s moans and gasps, and you clenched around his ever-moving cock trying to coax as many of those sounds out of him as you could. 

“Close, Angel.” It took you a moment to realise that he wasn’t asking if you were close again, but was warning you that he was, and your nails ran down his chest at the realisation. 

“In me.” While it wasn’t a full sentence, it was the best you could muster as he piledrived into you, leaving fingertip bruises on your thigh. Tangerine let out a broken moan at your words, more than happy to oblige. 

His hips began to stutter and you sped up your fingers against your clit, not wanting to be left with a built up orgasm for too long after his. After two particularly short thrusts, Tangerine’s hips froze and his head fell against your shoulder as he came inside of you. Not long after he had finished, your cunt clenched around him as you came again, high-pitched moan falling from your lips. 

Tangerine slowly dragged his cock out of your sensitive cunt, and you whined at the feeling. He gently sat you down back on the sink counter, knowing your legs would likely betray you. After using some toilet paper to clean off his cock, Tangerine gently pushed himself back into his underwear, glancing down at the stain you had made. You tiredly smirked, only to flinch as he brought over some clean toilet paper and as gently as he could, cleaned up much of the fluids that had made it onto your inner thighs. 

You sighed contentedly once you were clean, and happily accepted the gentle peck on your lips. 

“Once I’m done with this job,” Tangerine spoke softly as he picked up your discarded bottoms and guided them up your legs, kissing the skin before it was covered as he made his way up, “I’m takin’ you on a proper date.” 

mutual tagging: @websterss @jangofctts (i know i tagged you already but you're also now a mutual so two tags!) @faeology

post fic note: although i do not condone cheating nor the invasion of the private lives of celebrities, i DO condone aaron (allegedly) cheating on his crusty-ass, groomer wife with his bullet train costar joey. (also a couple of my warnings read like ao3 tags but they do still count as warnings so... leave me lmao)

reblogs and kind words are always appreciated

[eternalslover]

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Lemon: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?

Tangerine: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Lemon: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.

Tangerine: But I heard a siren.

Lemon: That was Y/n.

Y/n: Sorry, I got nervous.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x single mom!reader

Summary: When you go to steal a silver case from the Twins, they quickly realize you're under duress.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: protective!tangerine, mentions of coercion and kidnapping, cursing, crying

~ @kpopgirlbtssvt hi lovie!! here it is! hope you like it xx ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

* ~ *

April, your almost one-year-old, is currently tucked in your arms as you try to console her.

She won't calm down and you've been assuming the train's lights are too shiny for her small eyes since she's been inconsolable for the last hour. "Honey, shh," you try again, caressing her round cheeks.

"Hello." Your thoughts are interrupted by a calm voice as a young girl sits in front of you. Her short brown hair is cut neatly into a bob and she's wearing a pink shirt and skirt. She looks well-groomed. "Your baby is adorable," she comments, glancing at April. 

"Thank you," you say, smiling as you bounce April on your lap now—the movement calming her a little as her cries turn into small breathy babbling sounds.

After a moment, the girl continues. "I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you, but have you seen a silver case somewhere around here? My Uncle seems to have misplaced it," the girl's smile falters as if looking for sympathy, "It's very important to me," she finishes, her eyebrows creasing as her lips downturn into a pout.

You shake your head.

She urges you, "Could you perhaps help me look then?" She leans in closer as she runs her hand under April's chin, her demeanor more insistent now. 

Your smile falters and you turn April away, your hand on her back, as your motherly instincts kick in. Something is wrong. "I'm so sorry. I would help only," you begin, holding April closer. 

Your answer is interrupted as the girl scowls, "I'll pay you," she says.

Pay you? Your mind races as you wonder why this girl would pay you for your help. What's in this case that warrants such attention? Once you shake your head again, the girl's calm energy vanishes. 

"Well, this is a shame, hmm?" her tone suddenly shifts and she smiles cruelly as she crosses her legs. The table that's separating you and her comes in handy as it hides the weapon she produces and presses against your knee.

She angles the gun upwards and you tense your arms around April, holding her even closer. April squirms, sensing your worry. 

"Please," you whisper, looking around the train. None of the other passengers seem preoccupied by your predicament. They aren't even looking in your direction.

You want to scream, but you have a feeling if you do so, this girl wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. "Please don't hurt my baby," you say, fear settling inside you.

The girl tilts her head and chuckles. She taps the gun on your knee, making you flinch. "Hmm, you see, you're just the girl for this. Men underestimate girls like us—

They'll never see you coming—a vulnerable little thing like you, with something so precious to lose—you would do anything for your baby, would you?" She smiles at April. 

"Please," you sound like a broken record, "what do you want from me?"

"Is your baby's daddy around?"

You want to lie but you're too scared so you shake your head. 

"Pff, men—bastards, hmm?" The girl laughs and then she turns serious. "Now listen closely, if you don't want me to blow you and your baby to bits, you'll do exactly as I say," she pauses and her smirk turns sinister,

"Understand?" 

* * *

You feel like you're in a trance as your shaky hands hold the gun behind you. You walk into the train car, looking for the men the girl had insisted took her case from her.

You feel a little exposed as the buttons from your chemise have been slightly unbuttoned to reveal your bra and the girl had made you let down your hair. 

Go for the sex appeal and you'll have men at your feet, she'd promised.

However, you don't care how stupid you look. All you care about is April. April, who the girl has promised you she wouldn't harm if you did as you were told. April, who had started to scream again when you'd placed her in the seat next to the cruel stranger and who had continued to cry as you disappeared from her view.

Your poor baby.

You try not to cry now. You don't want your mascara to run and ruin your cover. You hold your head up, glancing at all the passengers as you walk by. 

Twins. You were looking for Twins—that should be easy enough. 

You walk slower, only catching fragments of conversations, until suddenly you walk by two men.

One is adjusting his stripped blue vest, his brown hair messy and his face smeared in bruises and blood.

The other, who looks nothing like the first, is holding onto a silver case. Your breath hitches when you hear the man exclaim, "Some fucker had this in his arms when I bumped into 'im—what are the odds, huh? Maybe it is our lucky day, bruv!"

You pause. They don't look like Twins, but in all honesty that means nothing—they have the case.

You take a breath and shut your eyes, turning around and hiding the gun in the flow of your skirt. You walk up to them, your eyes landing on your target as you 'accidentally' trip and fall onto the man in blue's lap.

"What the fuck?!" The man exclaims. It's an honest reaction to some random girl falling onto you. His British accent is thick and your cheeks burn as you stare into his blue eyes. Suddenly, your entire ruse threatens to crumble as your hands shake. You try to shift and press the gun to the man's stomach—like you'd been told.

April, think of April.

"She has a gun," the other man whisper-shouts and this sets the man you'd landed on into action as he hastily grabs your wrists, his other hand gripping at your waist as he shoves you off of him and corners you in the other seat, you back pressed to the wall as he twists your hand.

You yelp in pain, dropping the gun as your tears now fall freely. You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting a blow or a hit of some kind as your chest heaves.

None come.

"Her hand is trembling, Lemon." You hear and hesitantly open your eyes. The man holding your wrist has turned to his friend, Lemon, and is showing him the shake in your hand.

Lemon looks you over and settles in his seat again. "Poor bird's shakin' in general," he points out, confusion evident in his voice.

The first man tugs on your arm to pull your eyes to him. You look up, body still pressed up against the window as one of your legs dangles from the seat and off his thighs.

You don't dare move as the man looks like he wants to kill you. "What are ya doin' with this," he snarls, shaking the gun to scare you but then he hands it to his friend. "Who the fuck are ya? Some fuckin' hooker tryin' to play assassin?" He looks you up and down in your little outfit and you feel humiliated.

You shake your head. Assassin. The word rings in your ear. "I'm sorry," you cry breathlessly, "Please. I'm so sorry, please—she has my baby,"

You're a sobbing mess at this point, your voice trembling and hoarse. "She has my baby-"

Lemon speaks up when the man doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist. "Tangerine," he hisses, "she's sobbing. Something's wrong, mate."

Tangerine looks at Lemon sternly and then turns his attention back to you. You feel the tears spill down your cheeks as he stares and then he drops your wrist.

In an instant, you scramble to press yourself further against the wall and sit normally. You hastily button up your shirt, sex appeal be damned. 

"Someone put ya up to this, didn't they?" Tangerine asks, his eyes softening just a little as he calms himself down. "Does someone have your baby?" he is trying to make sense of the word vomit that had just happened. 

"Yes, s-she took my baby. I- I don't know what to do anymore. Please don't hurt me," you plead. Tangerine's eyebrows furrow. He looks at Lemon and they seem to have a conversation—or perhaps an argument—with their eyes. 

"Lemon, my brother," Tangerine says after a moment, Lemon's lips curving as he clearly won whatever had just happened between them,

"And I'm Tangerine," he looks you up and down again. "We aren't gonna hurt ya, darlin'. Promise," he says as he runs a hand in his hair and then down his jaw, "And we're gonna help you find your baby, okay? No need to worry." 

You stare at him, you have no desire to question their weird names as you are still a little afraid of them, but you nod anyway. They're your only chance of saving April from the hands of the cruel girl. You tell them your name. You have to trust them.

So, you find yourself in the train bathroom, Tangerine hooking something to your ear. His hands work through your hair as he connects the earpiece to the one in his ear. He looks so concentrated and you can't help but stare at him. 

He's handsome.

"I'll be able to hear ya through this, ok?" Tangerine's voice cuts your thoughts and you nod at him. You must still look scared because he adds, "Lemon and I will be around the corner, all ya need is to distract her so she doesn't see us coming, understand?"

You nod again and Tangerine's eyebrow raises. He wants to hear you.

"I understand—thank you," you say, voice still trembling. This earns you a smirk and one last check to your earpiece as his fingertips skim the skin around your ear. He looks into your eyes as he hides the device behind your hair.  

"Good girl," he whispers and the words roll off his tongue naturally. They take you by surprise as your heart leaps in your chest. Tangerine clears his throat, not giving you the chance to dwell on them as he opens the bathroom door and sends Lemon a nod to follow you. 

You try to keep up the appearance of confidence as you walk back to your original seat, the case in your hand. You've been playing the story in your head; They'd left it unattended. I took it from their seats. You don't know if that sounds convincing.

You check behind you subtly and see that the Twins have stayed in the room between the compartments and are waiting for you to distract the girl. You let out a scared breath that Tangerine must hear because his voice echoes in your ear. 

You'll be fine. We're right behind you. 

When you see the girl, her back is turned to you, and you see April's small legs hanging from the seat as she sits in the girl's lap. Your heart is pounding as you make your way to them.

April seems overjoyed to see you and your heart breaks when you see the tears-stains on your baby's face. Your expression hardens as you put the case on the table and sit in front of the girl. 

"Ah, you found it," the girl smiles, caressing April's hair. "You know, we don't compliment mothers enough. Your baby would not stop screaming—it was becoming annoying. The little rascal did tired himself out eventually because he almost fell asleep."  

"She. Her name is April," you say without thinking, jaw clenched. "I did what you asked, can I have my daughter back now?"

The girl looks down at the case but shakes her head, "Mm, no. You may not. I still need your help. Come with me," the girl smirks and stands. She is still holding April in her arms and your breathing has become heavy. You try not to make any expression at all when you see Tangerine and Lemon stealthily approach the girl from behind. 

You hear her surprised gasp as Tangerine grips her arm and you assume he presses his gun to her lower back because she suddenly tenses.

"Hand her the baby, now," he says in a throaty whisper. He isn't asking. The girl frowns and her hand clenches around April for a moment.

With the commotion, April wails and without hesitation—and the security that Tangerine won't let this girl harm you—you swoop in and cradle April in your arms. 

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here, my love," you whisper into April's head as tears freely escape your eyes once again. Tangerine's gun is still pressed to the girl's back as Lemon swoops in and takes the case once more.

You're too busy with April to hear their conversation and eventually, Lemon grabs the girl and ushers her away. 

Tangerine remains, his eyes unusually soft as he observes you and April. He walks closer, but not too close. He doesn't want to scare April—he tends to scare babies, especially when he's as disheveled as he is now. 

You see him and instantly you walk to him and, holding April with one arm, you wrap the other one around his shoulder as you lean up to kiss his cheek. You seem less terrified now that you have your baby and Tangerine's cheeks flush as he feels your lips against his skin.

He doesn't pull away from you. 

"Thank you," you say, your hand sliding down his cheek, lingering there for a moment too long, and then you back away. "I can't ever thank you and Lemon enough," you bounce April on your hip and she giggles. She stares at Tangerine and suddenly reaches out to him with her small hand. 

Tangerine's eyes widen and he looks at you for permission. You nod.

He reaches out and April holds out her small hand to wrap around his finger. She makes a small giggling sound again as she babbles—"She's saying thank you too," you beam in amusement, kissing April's temple. 

"She's absolutely beautiful," Tangerine says, smiling fondly. You grin, your attention fully on your daughter, that you haven't noticed the way Tangerine's blue eyes stay locked onto yours as he says the words. 

April drops Tangerine's hand and you hold her tightly. "Can Lemon and I help ya find your way off this train, luv? Ya do have somewhere safe to go, right?" Tangerine asks plainly, feeling weirdly protective over you and the little baby in your arms. 

You think for a moment, still breathless from what had happened. This train doesn't feel safe anymore. You feel so out of your depth. You were supposed to visit some friends, but you'd missed your stop, and anyways none of that matters anymore.

You'd almost lost April and if you hadn't met them—you gaze at Tangerine—you don't know what you would have done to save her. 

You shake your head and Tangerine's eyes narrow. "Well, that's a problem, innit?" he says and runs a hand in his hair. He stands tall, glancing over his shoulder to see if Lemon's finished taking care of the girl who'd threatened you and April. 

"You wanna stay with us?" Tangerine asks calmly, looking into your eyes. "Lem and I are gettin' off now. We have what we wanted, and we ain't gonna stick around this train to find out what happens if we do. Come with us. We'll keep you and April safe. Promise." 

Although his words feel like a pretty, empty, shiny promise, you accept them anyway. You don't have many choices at the moment and Lemon and Tangerine tell you they have what they call a safe house in the area, which sounds better than a cheap motel.  

* * *

However, a week later, you still haven't left said safe house. 

Lemon had explained that it wasn't safe to travel yet, that he and Tangerine needed more time to settle their affairs before they could easily travel again—especially with April around now. You don't know what that means, only that Lemon and Tangerine often come back from their "affairs" bloodied and bruised. 

You'd just finished cleaning Lemon's head wound when you hear April giggling from her play mat in the middle of the living room.

Lemon stands from the couch, his grin widening as he exclaims, "My turn to watch the lil' angel! Tan needs his abdomen wound checked anyway," Lemon wastes no time in sitting next to April and showing her the Thomas The Tank Engine figurine he'd gotten her. 

You smile and move towards where Tangerine sits in the armchair in the corner. You turn to him and your eyes widen a little. You're thankful for all the months you spent in medical school before you became pregnant with April because Tangerine looks awful.

His left eye is swollen shut, he has blood dripping from his lip, and he's lifting his shirt for you to look at the deep—while still not deep enough to need stitches—gash near his ribs (which is also black and blue from bruising). He isn't looking at you, a faint tint of pink adorning his cheeks. 

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, crouching down and rummaging in the first aid kit on the ground. 

"Hmm," Tangerine hums, still refusing to look at you. 

It must hurt him because he flinches when you apply some alcohol to the wound and bandage him up. You try to ignore that you're touching his chest, or how his skin feels under your hands. It feels entirely inappropriate to ogle your wounded patient. 

Again, good thing you never actually became a nurse.

"So, you're a nurse?" Tangerine suddenly grunts, looking at you with lidded eyes as you move up to inspect how badly his eye is hurt. 

You shake your head, smiling. "No. April came around in the middle of medical school and I had to drop out," you smile and prod at his cheek, earning a wince and you mumble a small "sorry."

"Ya still know what you're doin', yeah?" Tangerine raises his eyebrow in question and winces again, which makes you chuckle. You apply some ointment to his eye. 

"I paid attention in class, yes. I probably couldn't operate on you, but I can mend your black eye," you tease. Tangerine stares at you and he smirks. 

"Good," he looks behind you and after a moment, "Lemon stole your baby," he deadpans.

You turn and see that Lemon must have taken April to the room the Twins had designated as hers. On the first night of your arrival, the Twins had gone all out and purchased all sorts of essentials for children and women. It was unexpected and sweet of them—so incredibly sweet. 

"She'll be fine," you laugh and then turn to Tangerine again. He's giving you that look; the one he's been giving you for the last day or two.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. "You know, don't tell Lemon, but you're April's favorite," you say as you clean up the materials you had used on his wounds. 

"I am?" Tangerine asks, looking genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah," you nod, "she's starting to babble something that sounds awfully similar to 'Tan'." 

"Ah," Tangerine seems happy by this development and you smile. There is a moment of silence as you watch him. You're still kneeling next to him and his shirt is still half-bunched up around his torso. Your chest tightens and you hear Tangerine swallow. 

"Is April's dad—" he starts and you finish for him, 

"In the picture?" 

A pause. Tangerine nods and you shake your head. "Nah," you shrug, "Left as soon as he heard I was pregnant. He wanted to continue medical school without any complications. He's probably some fancy doctor or some shit by now, I wouldn't know. I don't talk to him anymore."

"Dickhead," you hear Tangerine suddenly grumble, and then his hand finds your chin. He lifts your head and his eyes lock with yours. "He's a fool for leavin' ya. He doesn' know what he's missing," he says as his thumb caresses your lower lip. "Ya understand? He's a fool."

You nod, entranced as your heart continues to panic in your chest. When Tangerine finally drops your chin, you clear your throat and stand.

He stands too and walks closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "Ya don't need to worry anymore, darlin'. Lem and I won't let anyone harm you or April. I won't let 'em touch a single hair on your pretty head," he breathes, his voice stern, and you feel his lips against your cheek for a fleeting moment until he moves and disappear upstairs. 

You're left standing in the living room, your heart pounding as you replay every word he'd said. Your skin feels warm and clammy. 

What have you gotten yourself into now?

[iliketangerines]

Imagine imagine imagine Bi-Han and Reader as enemies for as long as they can remember, but recently Reader feels attracted to Bi-Han and one night decides to touch herself at the image of him. Add some degrading kink here and some size kink there sprinkle sprinkle ykyk :3

calling my name

a/n: 4200 words...y'all better eat this up, please, i'm begging you

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI) light bondage, degradation kink, size kink, overstimulation, pussy eating

you absolutely hate Bi Han, he always had to one up you, always had to be better, always had to make sure to rub it in your face whenever he beat you in a spar

it was absolutely infuriating, and you seeth at him from across the room as he lectures the trainees and mentors for something idiotic that one person had messed up

he was so serious about every single little thing, and you wanted to slap him, to beat him into the dirt because of course he would take such a stupid mistake so seriously

someone had left out a weapon on the training grounds rather than putting it back on the rack, and for some reason, this was the hill Bi Han was going to die on

you barely hold in your scoff and your eye-roll as Bi Han walks by you, and you sit until your ass is numb and he’s finally done lecturing you all

finally, you walk off back to your room, the day already dark and moon high from how long the grandmaster had lectured you all

why did the mentors have to be there? it’s not like any of you would make a mistake so trivial, and now your night was wasted

you were going to sit down with a good book and a hot cup of red tea and sip on it until the candle burned down, but now you couldn’t even do that

closing the door, you strip off your clothes and angrily throw them into your laundry basket and put on your loose pajamas

maybe you would just go to sleep then

flicking off the lights to your room and closing the blinds, you bury yourself underneath the sheets and stare at the wall of your room

except sleep won’t come to you, no matter what position you flip yourself into or how long you close your eyes, and now you’re angry for a different reason

finally, you lay on your back, the blanket rumpled around you, and all you can do is stare at the ceiling as you lay wide awake

the meeting from earlier flashes through your mind and how Bi Han had strut around the room, dressed in only a casual uniform for training

it was sleeveless and tight, one size too small for him, and you could see every time his arm flexed and how his chest nearly spilled out from the front

you hated Bi Han so much that it turned into lust, and it frustrated you to no end how much you craved him despite how much you also wanted to beat him into the dirt

huffing out into the air, you dip one hand below your shorts and press them against your clit, biting your lip at the feeling

you start with slow circles, sighing at the feeling, and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing and getting wet as you continue

your fingers are nimble, nowhere near soft, but not quite calloused just because you engage in more hand to hand combat rather than with weapons, and you wonder how Bi Han’s fingers would feel against your clit

you’ve fought with him many times, felt his calloused and scarred fingers dig into your skin and cause bruises to bloom across you

they would be rough, focused, determined, rubbing quick and hard circles into your clit, and you let out a soft moan as you quicken your pace

parting your legs slightly and taking a pause to throw off your pants, you rub your clit with practiced fingers, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling

pleasure buzzes through you, hums in every fiber of your being as you get yourself closer and closer to the edge

you imagine Bi Han is here with you, fingers rough against you and pushing you further and further to the edge

his voice would be saying something, always something because the grandmaster always had something to say or do to prove his point

you can imagine the deep rumble of his voice, the growl he would let out, his neat and pristine hair being mussed by your hands

you’ve never wanted to pull out his bun so much and mess up his hair and tug tangles into the strands, and you know he would be irritated with the action

he would pin you down to the ground, thick fingers moving to fuck your drooling pussy while his thumb grinds against your clit

it would be delicious and angry and hot, and you let out a moan of his name as you cum on your fingers, letting your orgasm wash over you and light every sense in your body

you slow down your fingers on your clit and let out a little breath, feeling more tired than earlier, and you remove your fingers and adjust your position to turn onto your side

where you see an open door and someone standing there in casual training uniform

a chill runs down your spine and your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes trail up, up toned legs, a plush chest with crossed arms, and a scowling Bi Han

oh fuck

immediately, you throw your blanket over your bare legs, mouth open in surprise, and you sit up, fingers clutching the blanket so hard that you might as well tear a new hole through it

he doesn’t do anything, and you don’t say anything, stuck in a staring contest that you desperately didn’t want to be in

and then he steps in closer to you, making you flinch, and he closes the door behind him, his silhouette nothing but a dark shadow in the black of your room

it’s hard to tell if he’s moving, smiling, going to kill you, and you shift on the bed to turn on your lamp

but then there’s a hand on your legs through the blankets, yanking you further down the bed and making you gasp in surprise

you go to yell, scream, yelp, but a hand clamps itself over your mouth and his other pins your wrists above you, ice cold and freezing

he chuckles lowly, the only other sound in the room besides your pounding heart, and he says that he didn’t know that his most annoying soldier was so into him

you glare at him, almost hoping that it makes him drop dead, but unfortunately, it doesn’t, his hands still pressed against you

his breath gets close enough to fan out across your face, and it makes you flinch, not knowing that he was so close to you in the darkness of your room

your eyes had yet to adjust to the black night, and you kick your legs in an attempt to hit his stomach and fling him off of you

but he just slots his hips right in between your plush thighs, and you’ve run out of possible defenses to kick him off of you

unluckily for you, the rough cloth of his pants rubs on your sensitive clit when he had pushed his way between your legs, and you let out a small whimper at the feeling

you can feel his smirk before he opens his mouth, and you don’t move in fear of grinding against him and further embarrassing yourself

but from the way you can feel his hardness pressing right against your cunt, you’re guessing he liked you just as much you liked him

or at least, the way you liked his body because you hated his personality

Bi Han grinds his hips into yours, and your eyes finally adjust enough to see his stupid stupid smirk on his face, looking at you like you’re prey

his hand is still clasped over your mouth, but he lets go of your wrists, encasing them in ice so you couldn’t throw them at him

the ice almost burns, and it mixes with the pleasure you feel as he grinds against you, making your head spin and your nerves twist in every which direction

it doesn’t know whether to deal with the pain or deal with the pleasure, and it fills your head with a haze as you let out a muffled curse behind Bi Han’s rough hand

he lets go of your mouth, and you curse him out with as many expletives you can think of

Bi Han rolls his eyes, muttering something in Chinese under his breath, and you switch to the language and start cursing him out like that

he looks around your room, finding your discarded panties on the sheets above you, and he shoves them into your open mouth, effectively silencing you for the most part

you can’t even spit it out because it’s too large, and so you just glare at him, arms stuck to your fucking bedsheets and legs spread around his hips and staring at his insufferable face

he hates you, you know he does because he fights you like he does no other, and it’s clear in his words as he calls you a whore, a needy little slut

you continue to glare at him as he says that if you wanted him that badly, you should’ve just asked, he can’t but help a whore in need

his hands travel up shirt, cupping your breasts and squeezing them harshly, making you let out a choked whimper at the roughness

he just squeezes and squeezes your chest, doing nothing more than that for a second, before his thumbs find your hardened nipples and roll against them

the feeling makes you whine, and he grins at you, pinching your nipples repeatedly and listening to the muffled whines and whimper that flow out of you

you can’t stop the noises that come out of you, and neither can you control how your pussy grows more and more wet by the second

he murmurs, saying that you look so pretty when you’re quiet, so helpless beneath him, and that maybe he should keep you like this, all pliant for him

you try to growl underneath your gag, but then he lowers his head to your neck and sinks his teeth into your skin

a small yelp leaves your throat, and he runs his tongue over the mark, kissing a little lower before he sucks a hickey into you as well

it’s high up, too high to hide with your uniform, and you squirm in his grip to complain

but all it accomplishes is making you rub against him, and you just let out a pathetic mewl at the feeling and go still

he chuckles against your skin, kissing lower and repeating the process over and over again until he finally reaches your chest

he nips and bites at the skin before latching his mouth over your nipple, running his tongue over the nub, while his hand pinched your other nipple

his tongue and teeth are relentless against the sensitive nub, and you can’t help but squirm against him, growing needier and needier by the second

you garble out commands behind your gag, telling him to hurry up, to stop being such a coward and fuck you senseless already, but if he understands, he ignores you

he’s slow with his actions, just grinding himself into your sensitive clit, and the grandmaster continues to tease your chest, teeth lightly nipping at your nipple

it makes you whine and arch your back and your chest right into his awaiting mouth, and he smirks against your skin and detaches from your nipple with a slight pop

but he quickly moves to your other nipple, giving it the same overbearing treatment, tongue rubbing over the nub and teeth lightly biting into it

you really couldn’t take any more teasing, and you try to convey that as much with the way your hips buck into him, but he just growls and presses his body weight further into you

with his size compared to yours, you’re helpless to get him off of you and can only take the pleasure that he gives you

he seems to spend forever on your other nipple, and your head is starting to grow foggy with how much you need him as much as you hate to admit it

you wanted to flip him, take what you want and leave him needing, but for now, all you can do is let the pleasure cloud your mind and control your body

finally, after what feels like an eon, he detaches his mouth from your chest, giving it a playful bite before he looks at your heaving chest

he hums at the sight, pinching your nipples one more time for good measure, and you suppress your whimper at the feeling

Bi Han just laughs and calls you pathetic, but he looks just as debauched, lips shiny with his spit and eyes frenzied, his hair a mess with strands falling out of his bun

you want to spit an insult at him, tell him that he’s no better, but he hasn’t removed the gag just yet, and so you just glare and hope they burn holes through him

he just lightly pats your chest, and then shuffles downward, using his hand to spread your legs open and then up to press them into your stomach

you try to struggle and move your legs again, but his arms are thick and strong and keep them pinned tightly to your body

he just mutters pathetic under his breath before lapping his tongue over your clit, making your hips buck and a small whine to escape from you

Bi Han wastes no time in tasting all of you, his tongue flicking your clit back and forth roughly before sucking on it and drawing a wail out of you

his tongue is ruthless, cold against your clit, and all you can do is buck and grind your hips further and further into his tongue

you’re getting closer and closer to the edge, his tongue still pressing firm flat strokes against your oversensitive clit, and you can’t think at all

you hurtle over the edge, pleasure shattering like shards of glass throughout your body, and you tremble as he keeps his lips firmly wrapped around your clit

it feels like your high lasts forever, and you know that you’re whining out his name from behind the gag but you can’t even stop yourself

but his tongue is still pressing against you, tongue still stubbornly lapping at your clit, and his fingers slide through your folds

they’re cold, and the temperature makes you gasp and flinch at the coldness, but Bi Han just hums into your clit and all thought flies away again

he slips his fingers into you, thicker and rougher than your own, and your pussy squeezes around them, trying to bring them further, desperate for pleasure

pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, you can feel your mind and your body separating, how the pleasure seems to hold onto your body and bring you far away from yourself

it’s like floating in the space between Earth and Outworld, and you can’t control the whimpers that leave your throat as Bi Han curls them into your sweet spot

it makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers and grow wetter as he rubs against the spot, and you let out small mewls as he continues to suck on your sensitive clit

it’s so overwhelming, and you want to kick him off but also bring him closer and make you cum, you want it, you need it

Bi Han hums into your clit, the vibrations shooting straight through you and making you see white as you cum on his fingers

he keeps pumping in and out of you, letting you ride your high out on his fingers, and you’re panting heavily, head dizzy from the lack of oxygen from the gag

his tongue gives your pussy one final lick, tongue broad and firm, before he detaches himself from you with a wet pop and stands up, letting your legs finally fall down

you can’t even kick him away because of how they feel more jello than bone right now

you’re face to face with just how large Bi Han is, sure you’ve sparred against him, had him pressed against you so many times before

but that was in a different context…now he’s standing before you, undressing himself, his biceps flexing in the little moonlight that shines through the cracks of the blinds

his chest is so much broader and defined than yours, years and years of training you supposed, and he catches you staring as he shucks off his pants

no surprise, of course the cocky motherfucker was large, and he brings his hand to wrap around it and pump it a few times, his thumb collecting the pre-cum and spreading it along the shaft

he lets out a low groan at the feeling, and you nudge your thighs against his, wanting him to hurry up and fuck you

raising an eyebrow at you, Bi Han leans forward and takes out your gag, and immediately you call him an asshole

he retorts, saying that you didn’t seem to have the same attitude when he was making you cum on his fingers earlier

you frown at him, trying to keep your face still even as he slaps your pussy with his cock, letting the head bump against the clit

it sends little shocks of pleasure running through your body, but the only giveaway is how your hips slightly twitch at the feeling

he doesn’t do anything for a moment, just sliding his cock between your folds and getting himself nice and wet for you, and then he hikes your legs up into his large hands

staring straight at you, he tells you to beg, beg for his cock like the desperate whore he knows you are, and you open your mouth in indignation and glare at him

and then you spit an insult out at him, telling him he’s some pompous stupid asshole whose too cocky for no reason, a terrible grandmaster, a horrible lay

if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it and just looks at you with a bored expression until you’re out of breath and panting

his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, going deep enough that you know that there will be bruises tomorrow

he asks if you’re done, his voice annoyed and bordering a growl as he stares down at you

you tug at your arms, pursing your lips at the fact that they were still stuck to your bedsheets, and your thighs are held firmly in place by his hands

he grinds into you, pulling his hips back and teasing you with his cock, slightly pushing in but then pulling back out

you can’t help it as a small whimper leaves your throat, and you glare at him and tell him he isn’t playing fair

Bi Han doesn’t react, just repeats his order from before, to beg for him to fuck you, and you frown and slightly squirm to try and move your hips down onto him

he just pulls his hips backward away from you, preventing you from spearing yourself any further on his cock

the both of you are at a standstill for a moment, but you can feel your resolve breaking every time the tip pushes in just slightly and then pulls back out

it’s driving you insane, but you can see the cracks in his patience as he pushes in deeper and deeper and how he starts to let out a curt grunt every time he teases you

but of course Bi Han wouldn’t play fair because he leans down, his face so close to yours, and he hooks your legs over his shoulders

one of his hands snakes down to rub at your clit, and you want to actually kill him as he smirks at you and tells you to beg

he’s so absolutely infuriating, so irritating, and he was breaking down your resolve like he was an ocean wave and you were a crumbling sand castle

his thumb is slow and torturous, rubbing light circles into your clit but never going fast enough to make you cum, just enough to have pleasure creep in the edges of your frayed nerves

you try to buck and grind your hips into him to get him to apply more pressure, but it’s fruitless, and you’re left with no more options

closing your eyes, you murmur out a please

he tells you to do it again, to do it better, he knows you can do better

opening your eyes and glaring up at him, you bare your teeth and snarl at him, and he just looks down at you, awaiting your response

you grit your teeth and beg for him in a low and irritated voice, begging for him to fuck you on his fat cock, to make you cum until you only know his name, to fuck you until you worship him…please

Bi Han grins and with one single thrust, he pushes his cock into you and bottoms out, pelvis snug against yours

it steals your breath, and a strangled sound leaves your throat as he starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, the sound of your wet pussy filling the air

he’s big, stretching you out to lengths you’ve never been, and he’s hitting every spot inside of you perfectly and turning your mind into mush as his thumb presses firmly into your clit

you refuse to beg anymore though and bite your lip to stifle your moans and whimpers, and you close your eyes and turn your head to the side to hide in your shoulder

Bi Han doesn’t seem to mind, simply leaning down further and making your hamstrings burn as he sucks and kisses hickeys into your neck

he nips at your sensitive skin, leaving his marks on you as his hips thrust in and out of you, and you let out a choked moan as you cream on his cock

his hips never stop, continuing their ruthless pace through your orgasm, but he lets out a low groan at the feeling of your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock

it’s the sound of your half-hidden whimpers and whines, his grunts and low moans, and the sound of his hips slapping into yours filling the room

every shock of pleasure is sharp and loud, cracking through your body as the overstimulation starts to sit in, but Bi Han doesn’t seem to care as he pants into your skin

he spares a look down and groans at the sight, and you look down as well, barely making out in the low light how every time he thrusts in, a slight bulge appears on your stomach

somehow, his pace quickens, and he growls into your ear that he’s going to cum in you, needs to cum in you and mark you all the way

you just whine in response, lips parting, and he takes the opportunity to attach his lips to yours and kiss you deeply, tongue finding its way into your mouth

your taste still lingers on his tongue, and you moan at the realization, pleasure coursing through you

he swallows the sound of your drawn-out keen as your pussy clamps down on his dick, nearly strangling it as you cum again, and he moans into your mouth as he does the same

you can feel his cum inside of you, warming you from the inside, and your thighs tremble as the both of your ride out your highs, his hips becoming sloppy and slow as he finishes

he just lays on top of you, letting his cock soften inside of you, and the both of you just lay there panting, chests heaving as you close your eyes and savor the last remnants of pleasure

and then you open your eyes and mutter for him to get off of you, and you tug at your arms, finally finding the ice fragile enough to break with your strength

he just grunts and obliges, his cock slipping out of you, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss the feeling already

his cum seeps out of your pussy, spilling onto your clean bedsheets, and you glare at him, telling him that this was his fault

he rolls his eyes at you, saying that it was not, you were the one who had moaned his name in the first place

you retort saying that he had come over to your room first, and that you know for a fact that he lives in the opposite direction because that’s where all the higher-ups lived

he scowls at you but doesn’t say anything as he dresses in his slacks and picks up his robes from the floor

you stand up, fixing your shirt that had been pushed above your chest and you hold onto the door frame for balance on your shaky legs

he leaves, standing in the middle of the hallway and then turns back to you, and you just stand in the doorway and stare back at him

finally, he mutters out that he wants to see you again, next week, same time

you snort and say now who’s the one begging, and he rolls his eyes and starts walking away, letting you admire the way his back flexes as he walks

he’ll be back next week, you already know it

[keravnous]

desperado! ; tangerine/fem!reader (smut 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 3 here | read pt. 4 here

The Twins are laying low in Amsterdam. Growing bored of being stuck in the hideout all day, Tangerine decides to explore what the shifty parts of the city have to offer at night.

word count: 12,9k

warnings: i mean if atj can dance then tangerine can too, tango dancing bc it's very sexy and steamy ok; car sex, head while driving, oral (male receiving), masturbation (female), fingering, rough and passionate sex, undernegotiated kinks: (light) spanking, daddy kink (once or twice), unprotected sex, choking, pet names, dirty talk, name calling, hotel sex; they steal a car bc why not, short intro from tangerine's pov, small glimpses into his dysfunctionality, rather slow story development at the beginning, i still have very strong feelings about this angry man so please, have this

title is from the song of the same name, desperado by rihanna

the songs they're dancing to are esta noche en vivo by carlos libedinsky and otra luna by narcotango

mel said: kinda sad we didnt get to suck his dick in bathroom b!tch and I said: same

The air is still warm and a little humid despite the late hour, filled with laughter and the sweet, sweet smell of alcohol and marihuana, sweat and summer. Tangerine takes another drag from his cigarette, watches how the smoke curls into the dark sky, illuminated by the colourful lights of the city. He takes a deep breath.

He sighs, relishes in the way his shoulders relax. He feels alive -- again; finally. It's a real relief, has his limbs going a little slack. He had felt anger clawing at his chest for the past week now, the beast inside ripping his skin to shreds and lashing out with its razor-sharp claws - mostly at his brother. But since he had left the flat about an hour ago it has been curled up rather peacefully in his chest, with a satisfied purr in sync with his heartbeat.

Next to him, the water in the canals lays calmly, reflecting the city's lights and echoing the clinking of glasses and music that wafts through the streets. Tangerine passes by a restaurant, people sitting outside under string lights, drinking, chatting, eating and he watches them as he strolls by. They radiate happiness and it catches onto him like a wave, has him smiling at the sight. He takes another drag of his cigarette, enjoys the way the smoke burns in his throat. Jesus Christ, how he had missed this.

There just aren't enough books, good books, that can keep him holed up in a small flat for a whole fucking month. And thus, he had decided to break - well, bend - the rules a little tonight.

Their contact, Henk, had told him about that one spot where one could get anything: from alcohol to various drugs and weapons, maybe even a hitman. If one's lucky. And Tangerine does feel a whole lot of fucking luck pumping through his veins tonight, making him feel a little light-headed, stardust at the heels of his shoes.

His chest feels light and his feet are practically flying over the cobblestones, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth as he lays his head back, watches the illuminated sky above - exhales smoke, inhales the night.

A group of students staggers by, laughing and cheering, passing a bottle of liquor around. His gaze follows them, nostalgia tearing at his heartstrings as he remembers the times when Lemon and him were just that - young and without a care in the world.

Now, their hands are sticky with blood - metaphorically, he had washed his well and thoroughly after last month's job went wrong - and they are both in hiding. Again.

Lemon insisted it would be careless to go out at night, at any time of the day really - "That's bollocks, mate. You can't just go out, can ya? What if they sent someone after us?" -, but especially if it was just to have some fun. Because fuck fun, right?

But, there is nothing else to do anyways, with the way his brain always, always finds a way back to his own recent failure and how it was linked to Bolivia.

Bolivia -- it still leaves him sleepless and shaking sometimes, just like tonight.

Tangerine had been pacing the living room craving a drink until Lemon fell asleep, and then decided that he needed a change of scenery, something to take his mind of the carnage and its debris.

"Yeah, let's just all go fuckin' insane in that flat, huh", Tangerine huffs to himself, looking at his phone. It beeps, signalling him that he is getting closer to his destination. His feet carry him through the streets of Amsterdam, a warm summer breeze rustles his silk shirt and cools his warm skin as he passes by restaurants, bars and closed book and flower shops.

Eventually, he comes to a halt in front of a launderette: Wassen bij Muriel.

The neon lights inside are on, illuminating the sidewalk in a cold white. He blinks. There is no one inside but an old lady behind the counter and a grimly looking man sitting on a plastic stool in the back corner. He can hear faint music coming from behind the glass door.

To an unsuspecting tourist it would look like a rancid shop but to him, it doesn't. Tangerine knows better, has been to a lot of places like this.

"Alright", he says - lets his neck crack once, twice and throws his cigarette away - before pushing the door open, the bell above ringing.

***

You watch your friend leaning down towards the young woman, sitting in a darkened corner. Your father never wanted you to befriend any of his third or fourth row dealers but you never were one to follow rules, always going for the next thrill, the next rush of adrenaline. But tonight, there's been no rush so far, no tingling of your veins - just pure and blank boredom.

You had picked out your favourite dress in the prospect of being offered to dance with a handsome stranger, even ditched on the underwear to make sure the thin fabric hugged your curves nicely, but the men in here are mostly uninteresting, ordinary - simple dealers or lowlife thugs, street criminals that steal money from unwary tourists.

You watch how your friend, with a quick sleight of hand, exchanges cocaine for money, laughing at the woman like she is an old friend and then makes his way back to the bar. He winks at you and squeezes past a young couple, orders himself a drink.

You swirl your glass between your fingers, watching the remaining puddle of wine running up and down its walls - dripping down like blood - and then bring it up to your lips, emptying it in one sip. The taste is warm and full, rich and you close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the strumming of the band's contrabass and the red wine on your tongue. It reminds you of that one time in Bogotá, when you and your father had visited his suppliers - wine and music melting together with the summer heat, having you dream of the jungle, old villages, and the beaches of private islands off the coast.

Your father had dragged you along once more, this time to Amsterdam, despite your pleas not to - "You will have to take over one day and I want you to be prepared" - and you were gladly sneaking away when your friend invited you to spend the night at his favourite bar.

It is a tango joint and a beautiful place, an old basement with low ceilings and a small bar, people and furniture bathed in colourful neon lights. Purple and red are dancing across faces and sweaty bodies - swirling over the dance floor or pressed against the cold walls, tongues shoved into mouths - reflecting off glasses and expensive jewellery.

It is a place where people like you and your friends get together: the upcoming generation of an international crime elite, sons and daughters throwing away their parents’ blood or drug money, getting high and drunk hidden by the shadows of the night, staying awake until the sun rises again. It's a place where people like you mix and mingle with those working for your families, a welcome change to a certain hierarchy at something a civilian would naively call a safe space.

You open your eyes again, as the band starts to play a new song, blinking while your eyes adjust to the dim, colourful lights. There still are couples swirling across the dance floor to the sensual rhythm of the tango, that the small band in the back is playing. You let out a sigh at both, the loneliness and the boredom creeping in on you, and turn around on your barstool to order yourself another drink as --

Your shoulder suddenly connects heavily with something firm and warm - triggering a muttered Fuckin' hell - and a second later the man, who you just bumped into, turns around. He looks pissed, left eye twitching.

"'M sorry", you say quickly, a little taken aback by both: his anger and his beauty. The former doesn't seem to last very long, with his lips tilting up a little, eyes gleaming mischievously while they dance over your frame.

"Apology accepted, love", he has a strong northern British accent, like some of your father's business partners do.

But he is arguably a lot more handsome than any of them are. Dark, combed, and slicked back hair that curls right over his shoulders building a nice contrast to his light blue, short-sleeved silk shirt, unbuttoned down to his belly - exposing golden jewellery. The necklace shines warmly against his pale skin, glimmering purple in the dim lights.

It might be the alcohol and the loneliness but you really, really want to just dart one hand out, run it over his chest and his neck, feeling his warmth and the few locks of chest hair, smelling and tasting the scent of summer on his skin.

You wonder what he does, what his profession is. The 70s porn-stache, vintage Rolex and golden rings scream Miami and you can't help but imagine him in the hot sun, bare chested, blood on his hands - red red red - cutting open bricks of cocaine -

"May I get you a drink, love?", his voice pulls you out of your daydreams and you blink. He must've caught you staring.

You know, that men like him usually mean trouble. And yet, you can hear yourself say: "That'd be very nice, thank you."

He lifts two fingers up, signalling the man behind the bar that he wants to order something and you notice that his knuckles are bruised. Blue and green mixing with the red of the scab, partially healed. There are scars on his forearm, meandering between his tattoos and up up up his arm below the soft, expensive silk of his shirt.

The goosebumps that erupt on your skin are nothing but pleasant as you immediately know what type of man he is. Everyone in here is on the market for something: drugs, love, sex, guns - but rarely does one sell murder. Real, cold-blooded murder. Ruthless, fast, dirty.

He's trying to hide it but watching him as he discusses the menu with the bartender, it sticks out like a sore thumb: the well-mannered gestures crash with his fucked-up hands, the way he's dressed like a drug-selling pimp refuses to fit in with his sugar-coated talk and the way he moves can't hide a lingering anger, like a raging beast pacing in a cage.

It is a carefully put together façade, but it's no use against you. You know men like him and you know them well. They don't scare you - quite the opposite, and thus the pure and utter danger he emits has excitement tingling in your stomach. As fucked up as it is: it makes you want him - adrenaline kicking in, shooting a tingle right between your legs.

He turns around again and you lean forward a little, deciding to make your move soon.

"'S a Mezcal Margarita alright with you, love?", he asks and you throw him your most charming smile, nodding.

"We'll take two then, mate", he nods and slides a few bucks over the counter, watches the bartender pouring liquid into a cocktail tumbler.

"Sooo", the man turns around towards you and grins, shows some teeth as his hand vanishes in the pocket of his linen trousers, pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He's taking a looong deliberate drag, puffing out the smoke, "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Y/N", you reply, gaze dropping to his lips and back up, where his gaze catches yours. He has beautiful eyes, blue like the fucking sea and the purple neon lights make them glow with mischief and smugness - dark and oddly promising, inviting - framed by long lashes.

One of your fingers brushes over his hand, that is resting on the counter. The wooden surface is sticky with half-dried alcohol. His gaze holds yours while he takes another drag of his cigarette. You just might lose yourself in the hue that dances over his eyes.

"And you are?", you say, just loud enough to be audible over the music.

His gaze drops to your fingers that are brushing over his golden rings and he chuckles: "Don't ya try stealing those, sugar, I know that fuckin' trick", and you smile innocently, as he leans in a little, "Name's Tangerine, love." There are cheers erupting from the dancefloor, the rhythm of the music picking up.

You pout playfully and his eyes dance over your face, glimmering mischievously. "Oh", you sigh, "And here I was, thinking you'd may even give me your real name."

"Can't, love, m'sorry."

"Mh pity -- who did you kill?"

"Who said I killed someone?", he's dangerously close now, voice a low rumble.

"Your hands", your fingers dance over the crust of his knuckles and his eyes gleam. For a moment he says nothing and then, towering over your sitting form, voice low and rough:

"Aren't ya afraid o'me, love?"

"Terribly", and he grins at that, his eyes holding yours captive.

"Bet you are", Tangerine hums, barely audible and sticks his cigarette between his lips, one hand darting up, has his thumb gently grazing over your chin.

The touch is nice, soft and gentle but firm, in full control. It makes your chest tingle, sends a wave of pleasure through your body. His eyes flick over your face and you find yourself growing a little hot under his gaze. You wonder is he's going to lean in, ditch his cigarette and --

The bartender places two glasses in front of you and it makes you snap out of it for a second, noticing how close Tangerine got. His thighs are touching your knees and his face is so so close to yours, noses mere inches apart.

"Thanks, mate", Tangerine says, pulls the glasses closer. You watch him - slender fingers getting a little wet with condensed water, cigarette between his lips, chain and bracelet rustling with the sudden movement. There's a thin film of sweat glistening on his chest and it has your thighs clench with raw and utter want, wanting to put your lips onto the firm the muscles, licking his skin clean.

The way his body still presses against your knees, is electrifying and you decide to invite him in more. You let your knees fall apart, making way for him. His gaze drops down and he chuckles to himself but moves in nonetheless, one of his hands gently coming to a rest on your thigh, holding you close and in place. The touch shoves the soft, flowy silk of your cowl dress aside, the slit in the fabric exposing your thigh. Tangerine's hand is warm on your skin, rings pressing cooly against your hot flesh, as he starts groping you - thumb digging into your thigh and you gasp quietly.

"Been wantin' to ask -- what's a pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this, huh?", he says, cigarette bobbing up and down in the corner of his mouth.

"My friend sells blow here", you say truthfully - not a full lie and yet not the complete truth, but you know better than to trust a stranger with your ties to your family's business - and piqued interest flickers through his gaze.

Tangerine then, very languidly, takes another looong drag from his cigarette and taps some of the ash on the counter, holding your gaze with his own. "D'you sell yourself, love?"

You laugh at that, violently shaking your head. "Hell, no."

He chuckles, eyes roaming over your face. "Well, looks like I got myself a good girl, then eh?", he knows what he is doing, voice low and deep and you swallow.

"I wouldn't say so", you whisper, "But why don't you come a bit closer and find out?"

Tangerine flashes a grin, shows his bright bright teeth, one of his hands coming up and stroking his moustache while he shakes his head in disbelief.

It's stupid. Very fucking stupid. He shouldn't. He should get the fuck out of here - quickly. This is dangerous. She might be, too.

Instead, he looks up again. Ah, fuck it - fuck the rules. Lemon will get it - maybe. Ultimately, he will, simply has to - with the beast inside rattling the cage.

Tangerine leans in, his hand on your thigh sneaking up, making its way over your hip, your side and then cups your body, thumb digging into your flesh underneath your tit. Your heartbeat picks up as he pulls you close and you nearly yelp, scooting forward on the barstool, your hand coming up and grasping his forearm, holding on to him. "Well, why don't we fuckin' drink to that then, love?", he rasps, the hand resting on the bar pulls your glass in.

With a shaking hand you take it, fingers closing in around the cool glass and you watch him raising his, bud of cigarette nearly touching it. He is exhilarating, demanding and firm underneath the attire of a gentleman and it has your head swimming, wetness pooling between your legs. Excitement bubbles up in your chest, wondering where the night may, will lead.

"Cheers, love", Tangerine smirks and winks at you, both your glasses clink. He is still so so close, your knees still hitting his hips and his tongue runs over the edge, licks the salt away slowly, playfully until he downs half the Margarita in one go, like it's water.

You raise one brow, carefully taking a sip. The salt on the edge of the glass tingles on your lips and the liquor burns nicely in your throat as you take another. It's a hellishly strong cocktail and you wonder if he's a regular drinker. A lot of people like him - call them what you like, assassins, killers, hitmen - are.

Tangerine eyes the glass in his hand, weighs it from left to right a little, then nods to himself in approval while you take another sip. He instead downs the other half of the cocktail and puts the glass back on the counter. It's a quick, routinely movement and you come to realize that you may be right. You decide to not give it too much thought, because he's hot and he freed you from the boredom threatening to swallow you whole tonight and because everything about him has your blood singing with the gleeful promise of adrenaline. You put your glass next to his and look up at him through your lashes. He catches the invitation.

Tangerine throws his cigarette into his empty glass and then leans in again. The tip of his nose brushing over yours, the sensual music entangling both of you as his gaze flicks over your face.

You hook one leg around his waist and he moves in closer, pressing yourself against him, one hand on his arm - to anyone looking over you might even seem like an actual couple, enjoying the night out - and hunger burns in his eyes. His lips brush over yours and you know he's toying with you, keen on him leaning in to fucking kiss you already --

The music stops.

There's sudden silence as the band passes a bottle of whiskey around and the two of you freeze, blinking dumbfoundedly. The silence is odd, stalling both of you but you can't help it, feeling like drowning in the dark dark blue of his eyes, shimmering with green in the purple light. You can hear Tangerine breathe quietly with him being so utterly close to you and it's nice, comfortingly human and you can't help but smile against his lips still hovering over yours, a gentle gesture that is being reciprocated by him.

You're a little dizzy with it too, the alcohol, lack of fresh air and his body warmth mixing together, making you a little unsteady. He has pure and raw want tingling in your belly, your hand on his upper arm clenching around the firm muscles a little, thumb brushing over the soft material. And then, just as the music picks up again, his lips brush against yours: "You don't happen to wanna dance, do ya, love?"

"Fuck yes, thought you'd never ask", and Tangerine laughs, a deep, pleasant sound that rumbles in his chest and offers you his hand.

Yours runs down down down his arm and closes around his, while he's making some room for you to slip off of the barstool and then he's pulling you close again - your body pressing smack against his side as he's dragging you along to the makeshift dance floor.

The crowd still cheers, applauds the band and the bandoneon plays the few first chords of a new song. Tangerine gently takes your hand in his, thumb cupping your index and middle finger as your palm rests against his. His other hand sneaks around your waist and rests and the small of your back, holding you close. He looks at you and you feel like drowning in his eyes, pupils blown wide and you wonder when he'll show first signs of being drunk, with the way you already feel a little warm, light-headed. In a few minutes, maybe an hour you'll learn that he holds his liquor way better than you hold your own.

He is even closer to you now than before at the bar and now you can smell his perfume through the thick cloud of smoke that wavers through the basement's air - he smells nice, deep and rich of citrus and a little of vanilla and cigarettes, reminds you of the summer you've spent in Palermo once.

Tangerine gently places one hand below your shoulder and yours comes up, rests on his shoulder, just as he starts to move to the music. He takes a step backwards, guiding your forward and gently guides you through the crowd - a steady back and forth in rhythm with the tango.

Tangerine's hand still holds yours, guides your arm until it is stretched out and then it abandons your hand, runs down down down your arm very gently, pads of his fingers brushing over your soft skin, hairs on your arms rising. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers cradle back between yours, a smile tugging at his lips.

One of his legs pushes between yours while he manoeuvres you backwards, hand on your waist holding you close. Tangerine presses himself against you, heat radiating off of his body with both your arms still stretched out and you grip his hand tightly, leaning back. You arch your back, raising one leg and hooking it around his waist as his gaze locks with yours. You can feel his crotch pressing against yours, with the way the skirt of your dress hikes up your legs. He is warm and a little hard already, has the breath hitching in your throat and arousal igniting your loins.

Tangerine leans down a little, lips still curled up in smile and then pulls you up like you weigh nothing and you stretch your legs in a delicate, slight split as he twirls you around, your chest firmly resting against his.

His arm presses onto your back, holds you close until your feet touch the ground once more and he immediately guides you sideways with a few long and slow strides until he comes to a halt. One of your arms wraps around his shoulders as he holds you close and you stretch your leg out, your heel gliding forward over the concrete floor of the basement, stretching your leg out in front of you and then gently sliding it backwards into a deep lunge, your body following the movement. You lean back and Tangerine follows, leans down and towers over your body.

He holds you there for a moment, chest rising and falling, brows furrowed a little before he carefully helps you back up - immediately embracing your body once more.

The music speeds up and so does he while guiding you over the dancefloor, face close to yours with unbreaking eye contact as you swirl over the concrete.

At the next strum of the contrabass, you take a step back, arching your back. Very playfully you sway your hips, shoulders loosely following while one of hands rests on his forearm, the other lays in his hand, feet tapping the floor rhythmically with the movement of your hips.

You know that he has a perfect view of your body, your hard nipples being visible through the thin fabric of your dress. His gaze drops down, watches how the silk plays with your curves, eyes growing a little darker. You move in and Tangerine pulls you close, your hand intertwined with his resting on his chest and his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling. "No underwear, I reckon, love?", he hums, the fingers of his other hand brushing over your waist.

And you shake your head, whispering: "No, none", and it has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "Fuck me", he breathes and holds you close while moving over the dancefloor, one hand gently but firmly resting on your ass cheek, hiking the hem of your dress up a little.

The touch ignites you and you press against him, leaning in, nose brushing over his jaw, eyelids fluttering. You are pressed against each other, movements slowing down and blooming into a languid sensuality in dance: long strides, toying with him a little - turning your head away, stretching your arm out, only for his hand to gently caress it - feet wrapping around his calf, leg pushing between his. Tangerine is patient with the little game you are playing, unerringly keeping the lead and you in your place.

You wonder if he fucks like he dances. It makes your skin going hot, imagination running wild and breath hitching.

The song ebbs and the crowd applauds and the two of you come to a halt as well, but not parting, not partaking in the celebration of the band. You are clawing to him, breath going fast and heavy and so does his, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His hand momentarily rejects your waist to brush through his hair and then returns. His touch is firm, a little rough and you sigh contently.

Some people are looking your way, intrigued by what got over the two of you, enticed by each other and oblivious to the surrounding world. It's a dangerous thing - letting your guard down, for both of you - but you couldn't care less.

Tangerine smirks down at you and licks his lips. "D'ya know what ya do to me, dove?", he says quietly and you know but you feel the same, and thus, your hand brushes over his shoulder to his neck and you nestle your bods against his.

You wonder if he can feel your raising heartbeat, smell the lust and the excitement spreading in your body. You look up at him, fingers burying themselves in his locks.

"Mhm - do you?", you reply just as quietly and Tangerine chuckles, eyes falling shut.

Your bodies stay like that, closely pressing against each other with the music picking back up. You gently rest your forehead on his temple, leaning onto him as he holds you close. You can't help it, you just want to fucking touch him and your hand runs over his shoulder to the front, gently moves up his throat and then cups his jaw, fingers brushing over the clean-shaven skin. It's soft and warm and you can feel, hear him take a deep breath.

Moving across the floor slowly, Tangerine's body turns into an anchor for your long, ardent strides; his strong arms holding you up during each turn, muscles twitching beneath your touch. He is so so close to you, so warm - each one of his steps lingering with desire and it washes over you like a wave, has the hairs on your body standing up.

You sink against him, falling into his embrace, arms clinging around his neck and his hand is pressed on your shoulder, the other remains in the air uselessly as he looks down in surprise, brows furrowed. He can see, feel your chest heaving, a quiet whimper escaping your mouth.

Then, his lips curl into a smug grin.

Tangerine carefully twirls you around, hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rests against his chest and you can feel the tip of his nose brushing through your hair as his hands move over your body - one resting on your belly, the other gently cupping you below your breast, feeling the way your heart races against your ribcage, and his touch sends shivers down your spine, has arousal shooting right between your legs. You remain this way for a few beats, the blood in your veins pumping with the rhythm of the music, feeling his strong frame pressing against you - his breath on your temple and his cologne wrapping you in. His body radiates warmth and you can feel his chest rising against your back, his hardening dick pressing against your ass.

Lust tingles in your stomach looking up at him and, at the next strum of the contrabass, you take his hand and twirl out of his embrace. Tangerine follows and pulls you back in and your hand crawls up his arm, another one resting on his neck. His gaze locks with yours as he leans down, tip of his nose brushing against yours.

The hands on your back keeps you close, a dark shadow resting over his eyes, turning them into a deep deep sea. He slowly guides you forward with two long strides and then firmly hooks one arm around you, lunges backward a little and you follow his movement, bending your leg and resting it against his groin. His hard cock presses against your thigh, and he leans in, lips brushing over yours before straightening both of you back up, heels of your shoes connecting firmly with the ground. Tangerine swirls you over the floor and manoeuvres you through the dancing couples, until he eventually, when the space arises, grabs your hips once more. You let yourself fall, upper body leaning back delicately, enthralled by his strength and the way he guides you through the dance, and he pulls you back up.

Your hand runs up his chest, fingers clawing at the silk as your gazes lock once more. You suck in a few breaths, his scent clouding up your mind, hand running higher and higher, thumb cupping his cheek and fingers resting in his hair behind his ear, earring pressing cooly against your skin.

His lips are slightly agape, eyes you up and down, while his hand presses you close. "Yeah, fuck, you wanna take this elsewhere, love?", he rasps and you nod, eyelids fluttering with the hidden promise.

All the while Tangerine navigates you through the crowd, he holds you close, blood pumping in your ears with the way the music makes your chest vibrate, his scent clouding up your mind - only him him him.

As soon as you are out on the street Tangerine is onto you again, pulls you close in the bright lights of the laundrette and kisses you like a starving man. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing you against him, tits flush against his chest, as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands run up his arms, one of them curling his neck and the other cupping his jaw. You can feel his hard dick through his linen slacks and it makes you hot all over, wetness pooling between your legs. You break the kiss, heaving against his lips.

"Fuck", Tangerine huffs, hand on your waist wandering down, cupping one of your ass cheeks. You mewl, eyelids fluttering. You're desperate to touch him, for him to fuck you.

"My hotel's nearby", you whisper and it sounds so fucking needy, "We could take the tram?"

"Yeah sure, lead the way", and you do, stealing another long and sloppy, hungry kiss from him and then he's pulling you close, holds you by his side as the two of you rush down the streets of Amsterdam - heels clicking, sweet nothings on the tip of your tongues. Some people turn their heads, voyeurism kicking in at the oddly hot couple with the air around them cracking with their energy, watching how the two of you rush by - the woman giggling and clearly a little drunk, hands roaming all over the man's chest, while he holds her close, thick British accent wrapping her in.

That is, until he stops dead in his tracks next to an alley on a rather empty street.

"Oi, wait a bloody minute, love -- would'ya look at that", Tangerine looks down an alleyway and you lean in closer, trying to get a look at what he's seeing, peaking over his shoulder on the tip of your toes. His hand is still resting on your waist, fingers splayed out.

"What?", there's nothing. Just cars parked beneath a warmly glowing streetlight in a dark alley.

"That", his finger darts out and points at a beige convertible.

"I -- that's a car?"

He looks a you, a little offended.

"That's not just a car, love. That's a 1966 Cadillac Coupe DeVille."

You blink, watching him while he eyes the vehicle, fingers brushing over his stache absent-mindedly.

"What are you thinking 'bout?", and it doesn't even take him a second to reply: "I wanna steal it."

Well, that's a surprise. "You wanna steal the car?"

"Yeah, I got this fuckin' thing -- 's kinda like compulsion, innit?"

You raise your eyebrows and he looks at you, lips curling up in an amused smile that's looks an awful lot like Sugar I can't change it, now can I? and before he can come up with something witty to go along with it, you say: "Yeah fuck, alright. Let's do it."

He laughs, eyes you up and down. "Ya naughty little girl, eh."

You can feel your skin growing hot, hand brushing over his forearm, leaning in a little. His eyes gleam. "Show me what you can do, babe", and he does, wraps one arm around your hips and strolls over to the car, carefully eyeing the alley.

The windows are rolled down and he grins. "That's an easy one, love, watch it", his hand brushes over your hip and the touch has goosebumps erupting on your arms, running down down your back and you nod - fuck yes, you'll watch.

Tangerine leans against the driver side's door and reaches inside through the rolled down window. You don't know what exactly he's doing but you can see the way his muscles work underneath the blue silk, as he grabs the handle and then, suddenly lifts the door a little out of its frame. The lock bursts, and for a second your muscles tense, body anticipating alarms going off and reading to flee.

Nothing happens; no sirens erupting - just the door swinging open lazily.

Apparently; obviously this is not his first time stealing a car. The thought of him just taking what he wants does something funny to your stomach.

You peak inside. It is an old-timer, with one large seating bench in the front, instead of two seats. Tangerine is holding the door open for you.

"After you, Lady", and he fucking winks at you.

Crawling onto the seats you make sure to make a little show out of it. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as you bend down, until you eventually sit down in the middle of the front row seat. Tangerine sits down next to you and you immediately close the distance between the two of you, pulling one leg up, knee resting firmly on the soft beige leather and pressing against his thigh. The fabric of your dress hikes up, the slit exposing your leg up up up to your groin.

The sight distracts him for second, as you throw a look over your shoulder and out of the rear window, into the night. The alley still lays silent and deserted - but for how much longer? Tangerine watches you tensing up next to him.

"Easy, love, just a minute", he huffs and pulls an envelope out of his pocket, takes out a set of lockpicks.

"Oh, so you just carry that around with you?", you blurt out, blinking.

"Yeah", he says casually, bends down a little, trying to get a good look beneath the steering wheel.

If you were to be more of a thief and less of a drug lord's lazy daughter, you'd be able to identify his choice as a Lishi lockpick.

You watch him as he carefully sticks it into the keyhole of the ignition, slooowly starts to move the tool forward and feeling for the contact of the wafer. Quiet clicking sounds fill the humid air.

You can tell, that Tangerine is showing off a little, trying to impress you with speed and precision. He squints his eyes a little, brows furrowing and eyeing the small lock while carefully turning it clockwise.

It jams.

"Bastard", Tangerine curses underneath, pulls the reader of the lockpick back and carefully feels for the missing contact, tuuurns it --

The engine jolts alive, purrs lowly and the headlights snap on.

"There ya go", he mutters, "Piece 'o piss, eh?"

You snort at his vulgar cockney but you must agree - it did not take him more than two to three minutes, from breaking the lock to starting the engine. It shouldn't, but it does turn you on a little.

Tangerine is slamming the door shut and whips out his phone, handing it over to you. "Type in the address, love, would ya?"

You do and then quickly discard it into the cupholder - you want him and your fingertips tingle with it, wanting to touch him and being touched by him. The female voice - uncanny valley personified - of the google maps assistant pipes up and if you weren't so very fucking intoxicated by him you would laugh.

Instead, a fresh wave of desperate lust takes over you and your hands are onto him again in no time, one crawling up his arm, the other resting on his thigh and feeling his muscles work as he backs the Cadillac up. Tangerine chuckles, throws you a quick look before he is steering the car out of the alley.

You are aching for him to touch you, to be closer to you, hand tugging at his shirt a little while you lean in, nose brushing over the side of his throat.

"Jesus, love", he huffs, "Can't keep ya'self together, can ya?"

And you mewl, shake your head and then your lips are closing in around the exposed crook of his neck. Your tongue laps over the sweaty, hot skin, tasting him - his cologne mixing bitterly with his sweat and you hum, gently sucking at his soft skin.

"Fuckin' hell", Tangerine's right hand abandons the steering wheel, coming to a rest on your exposed thigh brushing over your skin. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, spurring you on, encouraging you. Your eyelids flutter as your tongue comes loose:

"Want me to suck your cock while driving?", you say, looking at him - the tips of your fingers are playfully brushing over his shoulder, silk of his shirt rustling under the feather-light touch.

He snorts, shakes his head a little with disbelief, before looking back at you. It seems to click.

"Bloody hell, you're serious, aren't ya?", and you blush a little. You can see the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows, eyes aimlessly darting over the road, considering.

The google maps assistant pipes up again, chirps out the directions and then falls silent again.

"Yeah, no, that's a very lovely idea", he rasps, and then: "C'mon love, get to it."

And you do, mouth watering at the same time your sight drops down to his linen slacks, the fabric wrapping around his muscular thighs nicely and pressing firmly to his crotch, exposing the outlines of his hard dick straining it.

Your hand wanders up his leg - feeling his muscles twitch as he hammers down the gas pedal, racing by the light switching from yellow to green - and then sour fingers close in around his cock. It is large and hot through the fabric and just feeling it has fresh arousal pooling between your legs, making you hum, before rubbing his bulge through his trousers. Tangerine's right hand leaves your thigh and comes to a rest on your neck, thumb rubbing over your warm skin and making way for you, giving you some space and encouraging you further.

It's a nice, somewhat patronizing touch that is pushing all the right buttons, has you quivering with excitement.

You make quick work of his slacks, pulling the zipper down - already bowing down a little, stretching your lower leg out on the seat behind you - until you open the fly up. There's a damp stain on his dark silk boxers and your mouth fucking waters, before you pull the hem down. His cock springs free lazily and your breath hitches.

Tangerine's cock is large, cut and a little curved, resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair - vein at the bottom pulsing and the tip already flushed, precum glistening in the low light of the passing street lamps.

You can't wait to suck it, taste it, feel it inside of you -- you are fucking hungry for it, spit pooling around your tongue and heart beating in your chest. Arching your back while bowing down between his lower body and the steering wheel, you put your lips onto his dick, kissing from the base to the top, his musky scent wrapping you in, clouding your mind. You can hear him hum, a nice and deep sound, and the city rushing by through the rolled down window.

Your tongue flicks over the head of his dick, lapping at the precum, circling it. The way he tastes - salt and musk - has your head swimming a little, wetness pooling between your legs.

It makes your brain go mushy, hazy and one of your hands brushes over his thigh, desperate to being closer tohim, to make it feel good for him, caressing the warm skin beneath your touch before you blink up at him.

"Fuck, you got a nice cock", you nearly moan as your tongue betrays your brain, impatiently opening your mouth and letting him slide in a little, feeling him pressing hard and hot against your tongue.

"Shit", Tangerine laughs roughly, hand grabbing your neck as his dick twitches against your tongue, "D'ya even hear yourself speak, girl? Fuck."

You smile to yourself, a little coy, and you start to move your hand up up up his muscular thigh, palming his balls through the linen and then grabbing the base of his cock, slowly jerking him. Tangerine groans, breathing loudly, the city passing by.

Spit runs down his dick over taking him in deeper, pools between your fingers and you flick your wrist, moving your hand in rhythm with your tongue.

The car comes to a halt at the next red light, as Tangerine hits the brakes carefully. Your eyelids flutter and then your gaze darts up, meets his while you are releasing his dick from your mouth a little.

Tangerine moans deeply as tongue swirling around the thick head of his dick once more, his gaze boring into yours. "Isn't that just a lovely sight", he groans, right hand brushing through your hair, while the left grabs the steering wheel hard.

Tangerine watches you, traffic light long forgotten, how your tongue licks over his cock, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. "You fuckin' minx -- ya do like behavin' like a slut, don't ya", and you smile against his cock, a quiet Uh-huh leaving your lips, before they close in around the tip of his dick.

His eyelids flutter as you start to suck, bobbing your head a little, tongue rubbing over the tip of his cock. "Fuckin' hell", he puffs his cheeks and throws his head back a little, exhales theatrically. The traffic light switches from yellow to green and you let him sink deeper into your mouth - the engine roars. You are certain he's close to breaking the speed limit, veins bursting with adrenaline and testosterone but you couldn't care less, the musky taste of his cock hazing your mind, lust taking over.

You feel yourself growing wet, cunt aching and you surrender to yourself, complying to your body's wishes, as one of your hands slooowly dips between your legs and underneath the hem of your dress. Your fingers brush up your thighs and over your slick folds, mentally thanking yourself for not putting any underwear on, mostly due to the unbearable heat and your skin-tight dress - but it sure does come in handy now, too. Your index finger flicks over your clit, just as his cock slides deeper into your mouth.

It feels fucking nice, the way Tangerine's dick is hard and heavy and hot on your tongue, his taste and scent engulfing you, the way you rub your clit has lust spreading through your body, moaning around his cock.

And then suddenly, Tangerine hits the breaks, hand hammering down on the horn. One of your hands darts out, barely catching onto the dashboard as you are thrown forward. Blood rushes in your ears, hastily sucking in a few breaths through your nose while you sputter around his cock.

The maps assistant chimes up in that second, reminding the driver that he will need to go right at the next intersection but --

"Ya fuckin' prick, imma fuckin' shoot ya in the fuckin' head ya stupid twat -", Tangerine yells and your head immediately pipes up, abandoning his dick and looking out of the windshield. Tangerine is just speeding up, passing by the car in front of him, angrily looking inside. "Ya dirty fuckin' chav, I got a right fuckin' lady with me 'ere, ya git", he spits and the man slowly turns his head. First, he looks at Tangerine, a cascade of insults flying his way and then he looks at you, smudged mascara and spit on your chin, your lips wet with it. You can see the wheels in his head turning, eyes growing wide as they drop down to one of your hands - the one that is still holding Tangerine's cock - vanishing between his legs. The man blinks and Tangerine flashes him the finger, before speeding by.

"Fuck about -- that fuckin' arsehole, love, could've killed ya drivin' like that", he grumbles, throws him one last look in the mirror, "Seriously, where did that prick get his license, the bloody fuckin' lottery?"

Tangerine's eye twitches and you can see his pulse speeding up, aorta pressing thickly against his neck, pumping. He is like a force of nature and a mental image of him, covered in bruises, blood and sweat flashes before your eyes - chest heaving and knuckles bruised, hair curling and framing his face like a halo, dripping with blood.

"You're so fuckin' hot when you're angry", you mumble and then you're bending down again, tongue licking over his cock, from the base all the way up the top, flicking around its head and then gliiiding back down.

A growl, a real fucking growl, leaves his chest, hand on your neck tightening. "You better get fuckin' back to it, love, Jesus fuckin' Christ", his voice is coarse and it gets you going, makes you wet wet wet and has your head diving back in, tongue lolling out of your mouth as his dick slides back in.

"Atta girl, fuck", he groans and then his hips jolt up, pushing his dick deep into your mouth and you hum around it. You start to bob your head up and down, meeting his thrusts - your hand abandons the dashboard to clutch his thigh, nails digging into the flesh a little.

Tangerine moans at both, your hot and wet mouth sucking him off and the slight pain that blooms in his thigh, dangerously mixing with the anger pulsing in his chest and he throws his head back.

"Just like that, fuckin' hell love", his hips buck, shoving himself deeper into your mouth. The sudden intrusion has you choking a little as he hits the back of your throat, spit gathering around the corners of your mouth while you sputter around his dick - jaw going slack and his hand finding its way into your hair, fisting it as he starts to fuck into your mouth.

Holding your head in place his cock hits the back of your throat, steals your breath. Your nose is buried in his pubes, inhaling his scent - sweat and musk - more saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, wetting his locks. You relax your throat and whimper around his dick, the way he uses you has fresh wetness spreading between your folds, squelching sounds filling the air as your finger is joined by a second, rubbing tight circles over your clit.

You moan around his cock, strangled noises escaping your throat while your rock back against your fingers, choking around the head of his cock hitting your throat.

"Shh, shh shh", he tuts, a little breathless, "Daddy's got ya, mh pretty girl? Lemme just--"

Tangerine's right hand lets go off your hair and then you can feel it sneak past your back, a feather-light touch brushing over the silk of your dress. It travels further and then grabs your ass, the sudden rough touch has you moaning around his dick once more. Your eyelids flutter as he pulls the fabric up up up, fists it and exposes you to whoever or whatever may rush past the passenger side's window. Your fingers speed up at the thought while his hand kneads the flesh of your cheeks.

"Fuckin' pretty", he hums, taking another quick look at the way your head bobs up and down his cock, "All over my cock like that, pretty fuckin' slut."

His hand wanders further down and before you can process it, one of his fingers circles your hole, feeling your slick and your plump folds. "Jesus Christ", he nearly groans, "You just love sucking cock, don't ya?"

That you do, whining around his base as the thick head of his dick hits the back of your throat again, with your fingers still working your clit. "Let me help you with that, love", and with that he pushes one finger in, up to his golden onyx ring, nestles it snugly between your hot walls. They clench around him and the sensation - the lingering promise of more - has you squirming a little.

Tangerine gives you what you want, need - finger curling a little, digits brushing over your spongy hot walls, before he slooowly pulls it back out. It circles your hole once more, quickly joined by a second, before he pushes them in again, starting to fuck you fast.

You moan, feet kicking a little and eyes tearing up at the sensation, with his dick pushing further into your throat and your fingers rubbing your clit, quickly has your muscles clench and cunt squirting.

"Yeah, just right 'ere, love, huh? Gettin'ya all loose 'n wet f'me? Such a good girl, aren't ya?", obscene sounds fill the air as he fucks your slick back into you, bottoms his fingers out, rubbing over the spot that has you seeing stars.

Tangerine moans deep in his chest as his cock starts to fuck into your mouth again and you let him use your throat gladly while his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, accompanied by the way your fingers flick over your clit rapidly.

The lack of fresh oxygen has you bucking against his hand, choking and sputtering around his cock that rams deeply in your throat but your stomach still flutters with it, lust igniting your loins and limbs tingling with it.

You can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, heart racing in your chest. Your fucking close and he seems to notice, too, his moans barely reaching your ears through the blood pumping and engine roaring. Tangerine nestles his fingers deep deep inside of you, rubbing over your walls and the spot that has you seeing stars, eyes falling shut and moaning against his cock.

It is all too much and your chest heaves as you finally cum, muscles clenching around his fingers, hips stuttering. His dick pulls back a little, tip resting hot and heavy against your tongue and then, his movements still.

"Open up your pretty mouth, doll, lemme see", he rasps, barely keeps an eye out to the street and you comply, fucked out mind making everything a little hazy, a little slow. Your jaw goes slack as you open your mouth, giving him a perfect view of his dick resting on your tongue.

Tangerine looks at you: mascara pooling beneath your eyes, lips swollen and red and jaw wet with spit and then comes too, shoots ropes of hot cum into your mouth. He watches the way it paints your tongue white, some of it landing on your upper lip, slooowly dripping down, running over your chin.

You swallow and then your tongue darts out, licks over your lips and then darts out, licks his cock clean, too.

Slowly, with your mind still foggy and limbs a little heavy already, you get back up. Your fingers brush through his remaining cum on your chin, wiping it away and letting them slip into your mouth, licking them clean. "Jesus, love", Tangerine's voice is a little coarse, gaze darting back and forth between your mouth and the street, as he carefully pulls his fingers out of you and your body closer instead.

You yelp, pressing yourself onto him, of your knees resting between his spread legs. None of you fucking care anymore, lust tugging at your brains dangerously, daringly. His hand, fingers still wet with your juices, brushes over your waist, grabs your ass and you lean in, lick over his throat, tasting his sweat and cologne.

"Can't wait for you to fuck me", you rasp, hands brushing over his chest, his necklace jingling, down down down, hand brushing over his cock and carefully putting it away, his clothing back in place.

Tangerine huffs, google assistant chiming out a direction, indicator clicking loudly as he sets it and then his hand comes up quickly, grabs your chin hard and holds your head in place. You look at him, deer in the headlights, holding your breath and then he's pulling you close, locks his lips with yours. He can taste himself on your tongue licking into your mouth, pulls you close.

You don't know how you made it to the fucking hotel alive, with Tangerine's hands roaming over your body, lips locking occasionally while he was speeding down the streets, cutting corners and red lights.

The two of you barely make it through the lobby and into the elevator, until Tangerine is onto you once more, presses your back flat against the cold, bronze metal. "I'll fuck ya so good, love", his dick is already hard again, pressing against you through the linen of his trousers and the satin of your dress, "'S gon' be all you'll be thinkin'bout for the next weeks." In a little more than an hour you will come to realize that he is right. You will be thinking about it for weeks. But now, there are only his lips roaming over your throat, occupying your mind and letting you drift back to a hazy, lustful state, with his hands feeling up your hips, your waist.

Eventually, the elevator piiings lazily and the two of you rush out it, like you are on the run from your own lust, hand clutching his as you quickly make your way down the hall to your suite. You unlock the door and turn the dimmed lights on inside. The room's just like you left it, guns and cash on the coffee table, soft light coming from the bedroom on the left. The window there is still opened, a soft breeze rolling in through the light curtains.

Tangerine throws the door shut behind himself and immediately grabs you by your waist, pulls you onto him, hand on your back on your ass as he leans down, devours you with a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth while he manoeuvres you backwards through your suite. Your hands dart out, catching the doorframe of the bedroom and you grab it hard, using it as leverage as you push back against him, your crotch rubbing against his. Tangerine grins against your lips and grabs your hips hard, makes you moan into the kiss.

He breaks it, chest heaving a little. "Fuck, love, imma ruin ya." Your breath hitches at that and your hands let go of the doorframe, wrapping around his neck instead like you're on some sort of fucking autopilot. "Yeah fuck, please", you whisper.

It takes Tangerine a moment, gaze growing a little soft before the beast takes over again, a gleaming dark hue turning the blue into an endless ocean and he hoists you up, carries you over to the bed.

He is carrying you like a caveman would his bagged prey and he tears at your dress just the same, one hand shoving the straps down your shoulders. Then he's onto the zipper, sliiides it down and throws you onto the bed.

You land onto the duvet with a soft thud, tits bouncing a little and his gaze follows the movement hungrily, before he tugs at the hem of your dress, pulls it down and throws it to the ground carelessly.

Tangerine just watches, gaze hungrily moving over your naked form, slooowly starts to undress himself. His slender fingers unbutton the silky shirt, button by button in an agonizingly slow speed. You know he's deliberately taking his time with you and it works, has your body quivering with anticipation and lust, one of your own hands running up your body, cupping your tit. He lifts a brow as he watches you tweaking your nipple and the haughty disdain has your head swimming, legs falling apart. "Please", you whisper, pussy aching for his touch, "--Need you."

The silk falls open, still hugging his shoulder and Tangerine continues watching you, playing with a ring on his finger, just like he's playing with you. It's cruel but it has lust building up in your belly, shooting arousal down between your legs and making fresh wetness pool between your folds in a way that you just know, that his touch will be heavenly.

And yet, impatience taking over, you mewl and in a desperate attempt for any sort of attention - for him to just fucking touch you again - you scramble to your knees, stretching out on the mattress and pressing your body flat onto it, ass high in the air. You know that he'll see it: your wet cunt, glistening in the dim light, hole clenching desperately around nothing. You feel exposed and at his mercy alone, and the degradation and danger of being unarmed like this in the presence of a killer, has your heart racing, thighs rubbing together for any sort of fucking friction.

Tangerine bellows out a laugh, surprised and dark, can't really hide either how turned on he is, and then his hand comes down on your ass. The sound bounces off the walls and has your bods jolting forward, first a gasp and then a moan falling from your lips, hands fisting the sheets. "Ya dirty fuckin' whore", he groans, hand groping your already reddening flesh. You can hear the silk flowing down to the ground and then he is pressing his crotch against you, fine linen against your wet cunt.

It's electrifying, the rather rough material pressing against your soft skin, your slick immediately wetting the fabric as your start to roll your hips against it, rutting over his clothed dick. Tangerine's cock is so so hard, hotly pulsing through the linen and you can feel its curve pressing against your pussy. You whimper, hips stuttering.

"Jesus Christ, love, can feel ya through my fucking pants -- lemme see", Tangerine groans and then grabs your hips hard, stalling your desperate movement, shoving them forward a little. You can feel his gaze dancing over your cunt, hear him whistle lowly, hands spreading your ass cheeks, assessing your slick. One of them comes loose and then --

He gives your cunt a light slap - the slight pain and degradation making your head swim - has you squirming on the mattress, a whiny Daddy, please escaping your lips. Your mind fogs up, all hazy with lust and his perfume, aching your back for him, pressing your chest flat against the sheets.

Tangerine pouts at you, eyes gleaming playfully. "D'you wan'it that bad, love?", and you nod nod nod, wiggling your hips as you chant - a desperate Yes yes yes escaping your lips, muffled by the mattress - hands uselessly darting out for any leverage.

His middle finger runs through your folds and you tremble, goosebumps erupting on your arms, spreading all over your body. He spreads your slick and his other hand comes up, kneads the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks further apart. "Always fuckin' wet f'me, innit? Picture perfect cunt ya got, love."

You mewl, throwing a glance over your shoulder to see him watching your hole clench around nothing. His eyes gleam. "Shit", you huff out as his finger brushes over your clit, feet curling a little and he grins smugly - Bastard - and gives your ass another sharp slap. You groan and then his hands are off you, making work of his trousers.

You watch him get fully undressed and your mouth waters at the sight. Tangerine's body is covered in scars, smaller round ones from bullets and larger, longer ones from knives and nasty fist fights and you want to crawl to him on your knees, kiss and lick them, worship them and him - his body, his tool of death - like he's your very personal reincarnation of Ares.

His dick springs free as he drops his boxers, completely exposing his muscular body to you, dusted on body hair and tattoos and scars scars scars and in the moment, that you can see precum glistening on the tip of his cock, you realize that you had already missed it. You fucking missed his dick. The thought has warmth spreading on your cheeks.

There's a light pat on your hip. "C'mon love, turn around. Wanna see your face while I fuck you nice and proper", he hums and your eyelids flutter, humming deeply in your throat at the proposition, turning around and laying on your back.

The mattress dips as he sinks down on his knees, chest flushed a little - the golden necklace dangling between your bodies - and then he's onto you, crawls over your body like an animal, leaves sloppy kisses on your skin, tongue licking over your nipples, stache tickling.

"Oh fuck", you huff, hands darting out and finding his hair, gently tugging at it. Tangerine's lips move over your throat and he sucks, makingyou gasp, throwing your head back as he marks you up.

"Spread ya legs f'me, sweetie", he rasps against your jaw and you do, knees falling apart. He grabs his dick with one hand, the other one supporting his own weight next to your head, rubs himself along your folds, using your slick as lube. "There ya fuckin' go", he huffs and then the thick head of his cock presses against your hole.

"Fuck, yes", you whimper, hot with anticipation, one hand leaving his hair and clutching around his shoulder. And then, he finally - fucking finally - puuushes in, your hole stretching around his girth a little, dull pain spreading excitement across your body.

Tangerine groans. It's a low and honest sound, has his chest vibrating against yours while he looks down to where your bodies meet. "Shit, fuckin' hell", he says, hand abandoning his dick as he slowly slides into you, fills you up and spreads your walls, grabbing your inner thigh instead. The way he spreads your legs is delicious and you hum, his dick is completely seated inside of you.

He lifts his gaze once more, looks at you. His eyes are dark, a stormy stormy sea, a few loose strands falling into his face, curls of his hair freeing themselves from the hair gel. He looks like a fucking god. "Fuck", you say, lowly, hole fluttering around him, stomach tingling at the sight.

"Ya cunt's so fuckin' tight, love", he growls and you can hear, feel it on your skin, that he is having a hard time holding back, "'S perfect, Jesus Christ."

Tangerine rolls his hips, once, twice and you moan, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulder. "'S good for ya, too, love?", his nose brushes over yours, lips ghosting over your cheek. "Yeah, fuck", you huff, and then he's onto you, licks over your lips with his tongue and shoves it into your mouth, invites himself in. You lick over it, lips locking with his, stealing the air from both of your lungs. It is a sloppy kiss charged with energy and lust, your hands tugging at his curls, making the thrusts of his dick more feral, as he forces himself in deeper, groaning into your mouth. In return you moan, chest heaving against his, tits rubbing over the muscular skin.

His lips brush over the corner of your mouth, breathes against it, stache tingling a little as they move down to your throat, kissing and nibbling at the skin, marking you up.

"Fuck", you gasp at the stinging sensation, pulling his hair and he groans.

It feels nice; the way he is fucking you - you push away the thought that it's dangerously close to actually making love - the way he feels inside of you, how his body feels against yours, but it's also not enough. You need more.

A whine escapes your mouth, all desperate and needy and breathless and his movements still for a second.

Then, Tangerine looks up at you, dark blue eyes meeting yours. "Tell me what you want", he whispers, hand groping your thigh and dick buried deep deep inside of you. You can feel it twitch inside of you and your breath hitches. "Want -- want you to fuck me", you say quietly, "Like - hard."

"Aint' ya just a fuckin' dream, poppet", he growls and then his lips are unto you once more, licking into your mouth, teeth catching your lower lip; licking and kissing your lips until their sore while picking up a faster rhythm, pounding into you.

Tangerine eventually breaks away from you, leaves you panting and straightens up until he's kneeling between your legs - rolls his hips into you with his dick fucking in and out your hole, accompanied by an obscene squelching sound. One of his hands grabs your thigh hard, rings digging into the flesh, and then he's hoisting it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder and you moan at both: how deep his cock now pushes into you and the way Tangerine looks.

A thin layer of sweat covers his cheeks and his upper body, chest and cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair falling into his face as his brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted. You can hear him breathe heavily, occasionally moaning when your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. He looks like a fucking porn star, with his defined muscles working beneath the skin and the golden jewellery, a soft summer breeze rolling in through the opened window, toying with his hair. Tangerine's gaze is glued to his dick that rhythmically pumps in and out of you, watches the way your juices squelch around the base of his cock, balls slapping against your wet skin.

His free hand runs up your belly and cups one of your tits, squeezes it, rolls the nipple between his fingers - the bracelet around his wrist jingles and the rings are cold against your skin. You hum deeply, breath ragged and fingers clawing at the sheets desperate for any leverage, while his deep thrusts throw you back and forth like a fucking ragdoll, tits bouncing and gasps falling from your lips.

Your mouth falls agape, watching Tangerine through hooded eyes and dark lashes and his gaze crawls up up up your body until it meets yours. It is accompanied by his hand, ditching your tit, and brushing up your neck, cupping your jaw and then falling in the crook beneath it, pressing down. The sudden lack of air has the muscles in your legs tensing and he feels it, too, mischief illuminating his face, his eyes, as you gasp for air. You know he could kill you then and there, watch you as your lights fade out and as fucked up as it is, it has your rutting your hips against him, spurring him on.

Tangerine furrows his brows and picks up a quicker rhythm, hand closing in tighter around your throat, rings pressing down onto your windpipe, and you lay your head back, feeling the stretch as he's choking you. The lack of fresh oxygen has your chest heaving, body surrendering to him and the way his cock pumps into your hole fast and deep, lust igniting your nerves. Tangerine can feel you clenching around his dick, wetting his trimmed pubic hair as you squirt, slick dripping down his balls and staining the sheets below. The beast inside him roars, thrums against the bars of its cage, his ribs and he sees your eyelids fluttering, cheeks prettily reddened.

"Atta girl", he groans, fingers giving in a little and you suck in a few deep breaths, before he presses them back down again. It's too soon and your hands dart up, clutching in around his wrist, bracelet jostling and clinking under your touch.

The cage breaks.

Suddenly, quickly, with the force and speed of a predatory animal, Tangerine lets go off your throat and flicks his wrist, catches both of yours in an iron grip and pins them above your head, down onto the mattress. His body follows the stretch of yours, bending over you, holding his own weight up with a hand that crashes down next to your chest. He is feral and it should scare you, especially as air floods your system again, lifts your mind out of your foggy state just a little, but it just doesn't no fight or flight kicking in. The way Tangerine hovers over you now has your leg on his shoulder bend, too, allowing his dick to fuck into you deeper, delicate pain from the stretch of your back igniting your loins.

Ragged breaths escape his throat while he pounds, ruts into you and you lose yourself in both, the sound of his utter pleasure and the way your body feels: on fire, chest tight with your approaching orgasm and raw lust, pure want, that chews up the ends of your nerves, has your limbs tingling.

Tangerine's hand keeps your wrists in that iron grip of his as he rolls his hips into you, dick hitting your cervix, his fingers digging into the flesh of your wrists. You throw your head back, gasping with each of his thrusts and his eyes follow your movement hungrily, groans as your eyes roll back. There's a strong pull in your abdomen and your hole flutters around his cock, his balls slap against your wet skin.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you whine, high pitched moans falling from your hips as he ruts into you, "I'm gonna cum, oh shit --"

Tangerine's eyes fall shut, a throaty moan erupting deep from his chest when your muscles tighten around him. "Yeah, shit love -- that's it, fuckin' cum f'me", he rasps, forehead coming down to a rest on your shoulder.

And you do after a few more of his deep thrusts, whining and legs kicking a little, shakes erupting in your chest as you press against him. Everything goes white as you ride your orgasm out on his dick, moaning and gasping as he does, too, shoots thick and hot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls and pulsing deep inside of you.

Tangerine moans, coarse and raw and his chest heaves, presses his nose into the crook of your neck - but you barely notice it, too far gone, mouth agape and legs shaking.

It takes you a while to come down again, eyelids fluttering open lazily. There's a hand on your cheek, a deep hum near your ear. "Welcome back, love", Tangerine says quietly and then, "Ya did so good for me, eh?" You mewl, stretching your legs a little. Your whole body feels sore, his cum leaking out of you and into the sheets. All you want to so is to get up and clean yourself up, but your legs are so so heavy and you just feel so so tired. Tangerine seems to notice, too.

"You stay here, darlin', imma get you something to clean you up", Tangerine says, voice coarse but soft and he gets up, just as a fresh breeze rolls in through the curtains, blows them up and sends them flying a little. The forecast prognosed heavy rainfall for next week. The air already smells like it a little - damp and mushy.

The breeze cools your sweaty skin, has you sighing with content while you watch Tangerine's naked form as he is walking to your bathroom, muscles in his legs and butt working nicely with each step.

***

It has been over a week and this is his third night. It starts to feel like a fucking stake out.

He feels incredibly silly. Silly for coming here again. Silly for lying to Lemon - again. Silly for ordering two Margaritas. Silly for drinking both.

Tangerine leans against the bar, elbows planted firmly on the sticky wood, smoking a cigarette. The band, same musicians, play a soft and melancholic tango. The air had cooled down a little after yesterday’s rain and maybe, just maybe, that'll be the summer's first soft goodbye before it will go down in a last great huzzah with a hot Indian summer before autumn takes over the city.

He wonders if he will still be in Amsterdam by then, if he and Lemon will watch the leaves fall. There is an offer for a job in Japan and he is considering to take it. He'll have to talk to Lemon about it.

"Anything else for you, Sir?", the bartender asks. And Tangerine nods, orders another Margarita. The bartender takes the empty glasses away and he stares at the wood. Oh, he's just so bloody fucking silly, isn't he?

He takes another drag from his cigarette, shifts his weight from one foot to another and rubs his eyes. She won't come. He knows.

She just won't. Tangerine did have a suspicion who she was, has heard stories about her father and he knew, as soon as he had laid eyes on her, that he was in big, big trouble. He wonders if he had already taken her away, wanting better for his daughter than a no-good ordinary killer. Did not want the danger in his life that came with a man, who potentially could be holding his daughter for ransom at some point or worse, could get her killed.

He gets it, though. He would probably do just the same.

"There you go, Sir", the bartender says and Tangerine just nods, suddenly feels very very exhausted and just barely notices that something, someone is moving next to him.

"Can you still afford to buy me one, too?", a familiar voice says, "Or did you burn it all on car insurance?" He chuckles, feels a sudden burst of energy surging through his veins, straightens back up and slowly turns around to her.

"Wasn't my fault, 'prick was driving like a fuckin' loony."

She chuckles and the noise makes his head swim, a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. He wants to tear his chest open and claw at it, rip it out. That is how much it fucking scares him. How much she scares him.

"Wasn't sure if you were coming back", she says, casually, calmly like she thought about it so much she's just used to it by now.

"I'm not leavin' that soon, love", he says, signals the bartender that another Margarita is in order.

"Where you going?"

"Tokyo, love. Probably -- most likely."

"Come back in one piece then", her smile is genuine. And he knows, that he just has to now.