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#tangerine x y/n smut
saturnandthewinter · 6 months
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YOU'RE THE QUEEN OF THE KINGDOM THAT HAS MY WHOLE HEART
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꒰ 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.
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vgilantee · 1 year
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200 mile (per hour) club {tangerine}
bullet train tangerine x fem!reader SMUTTY (minors DNI)
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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)
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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.” 
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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
417 notes · View notes
eternalslover · 6 months
Text
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?
13K notes · View notes
keravnous · 1 year
Text
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
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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.
5K notes · View notes
iliketangerines · 2 months
Note
Bi-Han can and WILL put you in a headlock during sex. Specifically so he can growl degrading remarks into your ear through labored breaths.
you have me in a chokehold
a/n: i gotchu cutie, and anon, you are so right. i can't stop thinking about it now
pairing: dom!bi han x afab!reader
warnings: nsfw (MDNI), choking kink, pussy eating, finger fucking, overstimulation, slight bondage, slight breeding kink
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you can’t really think at all, not with the way that Bi Han’s cock is dragging in and out of your sensitive and drooling cunt
he had been fucking into you for what felt like forever, never speeding up and only leaving teasing feather light touches on your clit
your mind was a puddle at the moment as your mouth blabbers out incomprehensible pleas for him to fuck into you
he just whispers that he is fucking you, punctuating his point with a rough thrust into your pussy that has you whining and clenching down on him
your legs are hooked over his, so you’re unable to close your legs, and your arms are tied behind your back, preventing you from touching yourself to try and please yourself
Bi Han’s fingers dig into your waist, leaving bruises on your skin with how tight he grips you
he drags you up and down his thick cock, relishing in the way you beg and whine for him to fuck into you faster like a desperate whore
he brings one of his arms up, wrapping and pressing his arm firmly into your neck, and you let out a choked moan as he cuts off your airflow
his action begins you flush to his chest, and you whine as he thrusts up into your pussy faster, abusing that sweet spot inside of you that has your cunt dripping even more
your mind spins at the lack of oxygen, and he brings his mouth close to your ear to degrade you
he tells you you’re such a whore for enjoying being choked like, that you’re such a slut for opening your legs for others and your pussy tightens around his cock
his grip tightens, and you whine at the feeling of his bicep pressing into your throat
he chuckles darkly into your ear, telling you that you’d like it if he whored you out to the foot soldiers, that you’d like it if you were just a hole for them, nothing but a cumdump for when they needed to blow off some steam
you keen and cum on Bi Han’s cock, your sweetness drenching his dick and dripping onto the bedroom floor
Bi Han grunts angrily as his hips thrust into you even faster, mocking you at how you came on his cock from just choking you
if he had known it would be so easy to make you cum, he would’ve done this earlier, and you whine as his cock pummels into you
his hand reaches down and rubs at your clit in fast tight circles, your hips jerk against him, sensitive from not being touched
he growls in your ear to stay still for him, slapping at the inside of your thigh harshly before returning his fingers to your puffy clit
even through the haze, you can tell Bi Han is getting close with the way his dick twitches inside of you and his breaths grow shorter and his words grow more curt
he pinches your clit, and it’s enough to send you over the edge, your vision going white as you clench down on Bi Han’s thick cock and cream on his dick
Bi Han groans and cums inside of you, fucking the both of you through your orgasms until they both die down
Bi Han releases you from his arms and settles his hands back on your waist, squeezing at it as you lean on Bi Han’s plush chest
you pant, tired and sensitive, and you whine as Bi Han’s fingers continue to rub slow circles into your sensitive clit, and you rut into him once more
Bi Han grunts in your ear about how insatiable you are and picks you up off his cock and throws you onto the bed on your back
your arms are uncomfortably pressed into your back, but you don’t have an opportunity to think about that as Bi Han shoves his fingers into your mouth and tells you to suck
you obediently do so as his other hand rubs at your clit
when he slips his fingers out of your mouth, there’s a string of drool connecting the two, and you watch his through lidded eyes as he gets close to your cunt, throwing your legs over his shoulders and pinning your hips to the bed with his thick arm
he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh before biting it roughly, and you yelp at the pain as he presses a soothing tongue at the bite mark
he continues that for a few minutes, biting your thighs and pressing soothing licks to the sensitive skin as you feel yourself grow wetter and wetter
soon, you’re whining for him to please touch you clit, please you need it so much
he hums and finally relents from the meat of your thighs and presses his nose into your clit and fucks you on his tongue
he moans at the taste of his cum mixing with yours, and you moan as the vibrations send shocks of pleasure shooting through you
he flicks and hums around your clit, and you can’t help but whine and grind your hips into his face as he slowly brings you to an orgasm
Bi Han presses the flat of his tongue into your clit firmly, eyes lidded as he stares at the way you react as he pleasures you
he brings his hand up, sliding a finger into your drooling cunt, fucking you on his fingers and shoving whatever cum was left in you even deeper
he slowly brings you to an orgasm, it’s a delicious torture as you go over the edge, moaning as he continues to fuck you on his fingers and suck on your clit
but it becomes too much, as little bursts of pain spark through you as he continues fucking you on his fingers
your legs twitch, and your hips buck away
but his arm keeps you on the bed, forcing you take the pleasure that he gives you, and he closes his eyes as he focuses on the sweet taste of you
he makes you come over and over again on his fingers, never letting up and continuing to wrack your body with pleasure
tears prick at your eyes, and you beg him to stop, wiggling frantically in his hold
but he ignores you and keeps on licking at you until you give up and let him send jolts and pleasure and pain sparking up your spine
your mind is hazy and dry tear tracks stain your face as he brings you to another orgasm, and you can barely whine at the stimulation
he lets go of your hips, and he comes up to kiss you
you whimper in his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he grinds his hard cock into your abused pussy, collecting the juices on his cock
he slides into your cunt, and you whimper at the stretch as he fucks into you
he places a hand around your throat and presses light, watching at how your eyes glaze over in pleasure and listening to your broken moans
it’s all you need to cum, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock and your eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of pleasure
it’s all Bi Han needs to, seeing the way you’re nothing but a limp doll in his hands as he fucks you through both of your orgasms
even as his cock softens inside of your, he stays inside of you, moving the both of you to your side, so he can keep his cum plugged inside of you
he quickly unties the rope holding your arms together and rubs the blood back into your arms and shoulders
he rubs a hand over your stomach and kisses your neck as you fall asleep quickly, tired and mind swimming from all the orgasms he had given you
he falls asleep soon as well, cradling your stomach carefully in his hands and murmuring a soft ‘i love you’ into your ear
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gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months
Note
Spicy wedding night with tangerine. Female y/n lost her vCard to tan when dating. They don’t hook up for awhile before wedding to create tension. Super smutty, passionate, hot.
An- I love this sm anon, I love you for this
𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
Warnings- Smut, 18+, Oral (f), cum eating, unprotected sex, P in V
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“You may now kiss the bride.”
Those were the simple words that led you both to were you were now, in a hotel, him carrying you over his shoulder as you giggled.
“Tannn.” You hummed, dress being bunched up by his grip.
“Yes?”
“We almost there?”
He took the key and unlocked the door, and he closed it with his foot. He threw you gently onto the bed, you smiled at him, he quickly went down to your level and kissed you. He was now on top of you.
He disconnected his lips to take off his jacket, you stood up and he helped you take off your dress.
Finally after a lot of struggling, it was off, and so was his vest, jacket, and his tie. His shirt still on, while you were left in your bra and panties.
He admired you for a moment, seemingly getting lost in you. All of you.
You rolled your eyes at his gawking, and reached to unbutton his shirt, he quickly unbuttoned them instead.
He started to then take off his pants, you were growing slightly impatient.
You watched with folded arms and admiring his chiseled chest. He noticed your reaction and smirked at it.
His hard on was clear in his boxers. He put his hands onto your waist, and he kissed you feverishly. The cool metal of his new wedding ring hit your waist, making you shiver slightly.
His tongue slipped into your mouth and he was pushing you back onto the bed again.
The kiss was shortly lived, and was interrupted by a call.
idiot brother 🍋
He groaned and you quirked an eyebrow.
“Lemon.”
“Oh. Answer it.” You shrugged.
“I’ve waited too long, love, I’m not stopping for him to ask me the Netflix password.” He chuckled quietly, and his lips were soon on your neck, he threw his phone onto the bed.
You moaned at the feeling, he smiled and then bit into the soft skin.
You bucked your hips up slightly, and he did that multiple times in different places.
He suddenly stopped and he made his way on the edge of the bed. He grabbed your ankles, making you yelp. He kissed your legs, making his way up to your thighs and then between your legs.
He pulled down your panties, putting them aside onto the bed.
He then started to lick up at your cunt, kicking a circle on your clit. He was good with his tongue.
You moaned, gripping tightly onto his hair. You then arched your back off the bed. He continued devouring your pussy, your wetness and arousal tasting amazing to him.
He could tell you were close.
“Tan- Im gonna-“
He didn’t say anything, and you came on his tongue.
The wait for your guys wedding was excruciating. You both agreed to no sex until the wedding, hoping that it would be worth it, and even better.
He didn’t waste a drop, your hips stuttered and you moaned loudly. He then went back up to you, he looked down at you.
He kissed you. You could taste yourself, and he moaned into the kiss as well.
He once again slipped his tongue into your mouth, yours and his fighting for dominance. He won in the end.
Once you both stopped, he was breathless almost. He then unclipped your bra, putting it next to your panties.
Tangerine laid down for a moment, tracing circles by your chest as you both relaxed for a moment.
“I love you.” He mumbled. Your hands ran through his hair.
“I love you, my beautiful husband.” You said with a small smile.
He looked up at you, still laying by your chest. He smiled at the name.
He took off his boxers then, and he aligned his cock with your entrance. He put your legs on his shoulders, making it so he can hit you even deeper as he thrusted in.
He groaned when he bottomed out, kissing your cervix perfectly. You moaned loudly, he went at a slow pace at first.
“Tan, faster, please.” You whined.
He nodded, and his slow thrusts were soon faster ones, ones that had you crying on his cock.
He was entranced by his cock going in and out. And his cock in your stomach. He pushed down on the bulge, making you moan loudly.
His groans grew as he felt himself get closer, clearly you had liked that.
Your tight walls clenching around him, and your moans vibrating around the hotel room. It was a dream to him.
“Can I cum inside?” He suddenly asked, the question making your eyes go wide.
You nodded, the simple thought making you clench harder onto him.
He painted your walls white, and you came at the same time.
He sighed when he pulled out, while you whined at the loss.
“Sh..” He quickly hushed you, he picked you up bridal style and he brought you into the bathroom. He ran a bath and sat down in it with you.
You laid against his chest.
“Mm.. tan?” You mumbled.
“Yes, my love?” He hummed.
“It was worth it.” You said with a small smile, eyes closed.
“What was?”
“The wait.”
He laughed quietly when he realized what you meant.
“It was, wasn’t it?”
1K notes · View notes
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18+ fem!reader
TANGERINE is the type to assert his gentle dominance over you during sex:
just him above you, his weight anchored on a hand beside your head, ringed fingers spread wide into the crumbled sheets. his other, finding itself along your jaw, loosely holding it in his palm. tilting your face to meet his, making you look him in the eye as he glides into you, cock sinking into you in a leisure rhythm.
his strokes would be slack - unrushed, his full length consuming you in a way so intoxicating. in a way so fulfilling. the wind of his hips slow, keeping himself buried deep inside as he grinds up into you, gently knocking broken noises from you.
his thumb would hover over your bottom lip, the pad skimming over the plump of it, the act itself dominant, assertive. the rest of his fingers brushing down the sides of your throat, teasing at the sensitive spots of skin. 
he'd keep his gaze locked down on you, soft blues watching your pretty, pliant ones - watching how they sparkle under his attention, twinkling with flecks of lust and bliss. as if they speak to him - tell him things he wants to hear. he'd rarely part his focus from your face, hating to miss those expressions you make - those ones filled with unadulterated desire; knitted brows, lidded eyes and parted lips. 
but during those moments when he looks away, they'd be on some other part of you, on another part of your body - eyes taking in the lewd image of you underneath him. they'd dart over your chest, taking note of the soft bounce of your tits, his steady thrusts knocking them in gentle circles. hand moving from the loose hold of your throat to the swell of one of your breasts, large hands rolling over it - thumb teasing at the nipple.
he'd be mostly quiet when it comes to noises, wanting to hear your soft moans more than his own. broken lines of praises falling past his lips from the way you wrap yourself around him - muttered strings of 'oh, I know. I know,'s and, 'yeah, that's it,'s. his gruff cockney accent amplifying his dominance.
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would it be wrong to say this might be one of my fave/ hottest things ive written ?? am I allowed to say that??
465 notes · View notes
pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months
Text
Dress
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Your best friends promised never to tell you about their dangerous job. However, all goes to shit when you find out another way.
Genre: Angsty fluff (happy ending)
Warnings: protective!Tangerine, home invasion, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, sexual innuendo/implying sexual harassment (really not as bad as that sounds lol i would just rather put a warning)? murder, violence…
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Tangerine always knew you were too kind for the life he had chosen.
He wonders if he hadn't known you so long or if you weren't as much Lemon's best friend as his, then perhaps it would have been an easy decision to cut you out of their lives.
Only, the decision wasn't easy. It was selfish and it eats him up inside, but both him and Lemon had agreed they couldn't lose you. So, they'd made a deal that they wouldn't tell you the true nature of their job. That way, you would be safe. 
You, on the other hand, aren't as innocent as they think. You've known them long enough to know their expressions and whenever you mention their profession, they become eerily silent and tense. You've seen the blood under Lemon's fingernails and the bruises on Tangerine's knuckles when they visit you after one of their so-called "work trips".
However, after countless evasions on their part, you've stopped asking questions. Now, you stay content without knowing because you don't want to lose them either. 
One evening, you hear a knock on your apartment door and your smile widens. He's early. He's usually never early. You stand up from the couch, pulling up your fuzzy sock as you rush over the wooden floorboards to open the door for him. "Hi," you start but your throat locks when you're met with three burly men in black, threatening, masks. 
You don't have time to scream out as one of them presses his hand against your mouth and forces himself inside. The other two follow quickly and you stumble backwards. The man holding you presses his gun into your side and you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks as your mind races. 
Another man hands you what looks like a burner phone from his pocket and says, "Call him."
Your vision is blurred by your tears and when the man's hand leaves your mouth, you ask. "Who?"
"You know who, girl," the last man laughs and your chest tightens. Your hands are shaky when you type out Tangerine's number. You have an icky in your stomach telling you he hadn't been the one to ask you to hang out this evening.
Hesitantly, you hold the phone to your ear and whimper when the man with the gun pushes you over to your couch. He sits closer than necessary and teasingly moves the barrel against your cheeks and up into your hair.
"Hello?" Tangerine answers, his voice hoarse. Your heart leaps hearing him. It doesn't matter how mad he sounds because it's his voice. He'll make sure no one hurts you.
You turn to the men, as if asking them what you should say. All three of them smirk and the one holding you just shrugs.
"T-tan," you whisper, your hold tightening on the phone. Your voice comes out as shaky as your hands. You want to scream but as the seriousness of the situation sinks in, you can't make your mouth work properly. 
"Y/n? Is that you, love?" Tangerine sounds much more awake now, the annoyance in his tone completely gone. 
You're the only person who calls him Tan. 
"I-I don't know who — and I don't know what they want from me, but t-they have a gun," your word vomit tears a whimper from your throat and you hear curses and movement from the other side of the line. "And I'm so scared. Please, h-help me. I need you."
Suddenly, the phone is ripped from your hands and you let out a shriek of surprise and then another whimper when the gun is pressed to your temple to shut you up. The man chuckles darkly and his arm slides around you so you don't dare make another sound.
"Yes, yeah, we know—mmhmm, yes, we will be waiting with your little friend here," the man holding the phone grins at you, "She's a pretty one, ain't she? Such gorgeous eyes when they're all glossy with tears—" he chuckles, "well shove one up yours too. Don't fucking make us hurt her. You know what we want, bring us the money and she'll survive. Yeah, yeah." 
He grunts and throws the phone across the room, causing you to jump as the other man holding you presses the gun harder into your temple.
The man who was just on the phone pinches his nose and mutters, "Bloody fuck," he turns to you and points his index finger accusingly, "You're a lucky girl, you know. Because, if we didn't really need that money, you would have a bullet stuck in that fucking pretty head of yours for the way your boyfriend speaks to me."
You shiver, wincing. You can tell the man means it. "He's not my boyfriend," you whisper. 
"Whatever, darling," he rolls his eyes and leans forward to take your arm, "Just be a good girl for us and shut up."
* * *
Tangerine feels like he's living his worst nightmare. As soon as he heard your voice on the line, from a masked number, he couldn't think straight anymore. He's currently trying to unlock the drawer where he keeps his gun, fumbling as furious tears prickle in his eyes. 
He can't shake the sound of you crying out his name. He sees you, your skin bruised and bloody as tears stream down your cheeks and he wants to punch his fist through the drawer.
He should have protected you from this. He should have known. 
Lemon walks into his room, frowning when he sees how distressed his brother is. "Woah, mate, what's wrong?"
Tangerine finally thrusts the drawer open and shoves his gun in the back of his pants. He stands and runs a hand through his hair, rushing towards the door. His voice is strained when he says, "Someone has Y/n. They're hurting her." 
Lemon's entire face drops. "W-what? H-how?"
"I don't fuckin' know," Tangerine snaps, "Now, are you fuckin' coming or not?"
* * *
You shift your hand, the ropes burning against your wrists, as you sit on the ground of your bathroom. Blood trickles down your eyebrows from when one of the men hit you and slammed your head into the sink.
The gag they had used cuts painfully into the sides of your mouth. The men had used a pair of your panties they'd found in your dresser and bound the lace around your head, finding it hilarious. You didn't find it funny, the embarrassment still lingering as you sit in the darkness of the bathroom.
Suddenly, the faint laughter from the men in your living room stops and, after a moment, you hear loud crashes. You jump, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen intensely. You hear the slamming of doors until the bathroom door opens and you hear a familiar, "Fuck."
Your eyes snap open and Tangerine kneels in front of you. He quickly unties your panties from around your mouth, his eyes dark with anger and his eyebrows scrunch with worry. You whimper, embarrassed by him seeing you like this. He tosses your panties to the side, not commenting on them but fuming inside as he cups your cheeks gently and inspects your injuries. 
"Shit, does it hurt, love?" he asks, looking at the cut on your forehead and the bruises littered across your skin.
You train your eyes on his appearance. Sweat beads at his hair and splatters of fresh blood adorn his cheeks. It doesn't look like it's his considering he looks unharmed. Tangerine looks you over quickly. "I- did they touch you?" he asks hesitantly, insinuating something from the panties in your mouth and he is clearly a little nervous to know the answer. 
You shake your head and his eyes soften. "Oh, thank fuckin' god. I'm so sorry," he says and unties your hands, wasting no time scooping you up into his arms. You lean your head on his chest, still too shocked to form any words. Tangerine places his hand over your eyes as he walks into the living room and you hear shuffling and curses from what sounds like Lemon.
You turn to look but Tangerine keeps your head still and soothes you, "Shhh, you're okay, c'mon," 
Cold air hits you and you hear Tangerine open the door to his car. He places you inside and kisses your forehead. He kneels next to the car and his thumb touches near your cut, his eyes still dark with anger. "I have to check something with Lemon," he says again and his heart breaks when you grab his arm, 
"Please, don't l-leave me," you manage to ask, your voice hoarse.
Tangerine rests his hand on yours and tries to explain, "I won't be long, darlin'. I can't leave Lemon in there alone but we'll be quick. Trust me."
On any other day you would wait for a better time to bring this up, but your mind is still all fuzzy so you whisper, "Trust you? H-how can I trust you after what happened?" you see the hurt and guilt written on his face as the truth in your words sink in. 
Tangerine has never been good with strong emotions. He doesn't like them. They make him feel weak. You watch as his expression hardens and he looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/n," he says but mechanically closes the car door on you. You hear a lock and Tangerine disappears into your building again. All you can do is bury your face in your hands and cry.
Later, Tangerine is pacing his room. He hasn't changed out of his bloody clothes and he hasn't calmed down since they'd showed you to the guest room.
You'd asked to be alone and while that was understandable, he's worried sick. Lemon is sitting on his bed, which would usually annoy him because he'd made it that morning, but Tangerine couldn't care less about that right now.
"I basically slammed the door in her face! How could I have done that?" he's obviously panicking. 
"You had to come help me clean the scene. You did the only thing you could think of," Lemon tries to reasons, something he's been doing for the last twenty minutes.
"I- I shut her out. She probably hates me."
"Y/n could never hate you. She loves you."
Tangerine lets out a groan of frustration and turns to look at Lemon, his eyes round. "Don't you understand that's the fuckin' problem? I love her. I fuckin' love her and I've been lying to her all these years and now she's hurt because of it. It's all fucked, fuck, fuck, fuck."
Lemon stares at his brother with a deadpan look on his face. "I cannot believe you just admitted you love her."
"Pardon?"
"You're in love with her. It's been eating at you for years now. It's fucking obvious, I just didn't think you were this self-aware," Lemon rolls his eyes and stands up.
He walks over to Tangerine and crosses his arms. "Shit, mate, what are you even doing in here? Y/n was just attacked in her home and she doesn't understand why. She's probably scared shitless and tending to her wounds all alone —
After you disappeared in here like a baby I asked if she needed help and she said no, but you aren't the only one who is her best friend. I know her. She doesn't want to be alone, you idiot, she just didn't want me. She wants you." 
Tangerine feels like his heart has been beaten up to a pulp and he can barely breathe. He doesn't speak and he leaves his bedroom in a hurry.
As he walks to the guest room, he feels like he's in a daze. He knows he should but he doesn't knock on the door when he rushes in. He finds you sitting on the ground, dressed in one of his shirts he must have left in the guest room by accident, applying some alcohol to the wound on your head.
Your tears have dried but when you look at him, he sees how bloodshot your eyes are and he wants to kill those men all over again.
He doesn't speak as he crouches down and pulls you into a hug. He wraps his arms around your body and holds you tightly. He hears your small sigh as you wrap your arms around his torso. Tangerine doesn't care when you unconsciously climb into his lap and hug him closer. He nuzzles his head in your neck and kisses your exposed shoulder. He's never given you this type of intimacy and while his head is screaming at him to run from you, his heart won't let him. 
"It was so scary," you whimper against him. 
He cups your head with his hand as he soothes you, "I know, darlin', I know it was. I promise you're safe now. I'm here. 'm not leaving you, doll. I'm so sorry this happened," he pulls away and caresses his large hands down your face, brushing some hair from your eyes. 
"Why'd you open the door, darlin'? You'know you can't open the door to strangers, mm?"
He isn't blaming you, he just wants to know. 
You avoid his eyes. "I thought it was you."
Tangerine frowns.
"I think they somehow sent me a text from your phone and it said you wanted to come over and I-I said yes," you feel your cheeks burn and Tangerine anger bubbles. They'd used him to hurt you. He leans his forehead on yours as you continue. "I did think it was a little weird, but I—"
Tangerine wipes at your new tears with his thumb, interrupting you, "It's okay. You couldn't have known. I'm so sorry."
"I should have known," you whisper.
"No," he shakes his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. "I should have prepared you for something like this. Lemon and I should have warned you."
You lean your head on his chest again, your breathing harsh. "I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn't think you were killing people," you whisper and you feel Tangerine tense. He rubs his hand up and down your back. 
"I-" he doesn't know what he can say to you. 
You pull away and look into his eyes, "I don't want to know," you say, "not today. Not now. You can tell me later but now I want you to hold me and tell me it'll be okay." Tangerine nods, you sound a little in shock, but your voice is serious. 
"And I want you to kiss me."
Your words almost knock Tangerine out.
"Fucking pardon?" he says, instantly regretting cursing.
You move to hold his cheeks in your hands, leaning in closer. You wait for him to make the first move, your heart beating as quickly as his is.
You don't care about his job, or that he'd lied to you, and you know he's probably not an honorable man like you'd wished him to be, but none of that matters because you need to feel his lips on yours.
You need to know he's here.
Tangerine closes his eyes and kisses you. His entire body feels like it's on fire and if he thinks too hard, he might combust into ashes. His hands find your waist and his head tilts so he can kiss you better.
Fuck this. He's so in love with you.
You kiss him back with more passion and he almost loses his mind. If he had lost you today he would have burned the entire world to make those men pay. Killing them would have never been enough.
You pull away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You look into Tangerine's blue eyes. You want to tell him you love him. You're in love with him. However, no words can leave your lips.
Tangerine sees your expression and wipes his thumb under your eye. He stands and pulls you up with him as he whispers, "Shh, you don't need to talk. You need sleep."
He looks at your wound again, making sure it's clean and then cups your cheeks and tilts them upwards so he has your attention. "Lemon and I are just around the hall, okay? I- I lo-," his sentence dies and he starts a new one, "I lo-oked over your injury and it shouldn't hurt that much anymore but if it does, you know where my room is."
Tangerine leans down and presses one last kiss to your lips. He pulls away and says, "You're safe now, my darlin'. Okay? Nothing will ever happen to you again. I promise."
He says it with such security, you nod again. Your lips tingle from his and you savor the moment, wrapping your arms around him. Tangerine is surprised but he kisses your head and whispers just quietly enough for you to miss it, 
"I love you," 
And for the first time in his life, those three words don't stay clogged in his throat. Tangerine's shoulders relax and he sighs. One day soon he'll be able to say them loud enough that you hear him. And, hopefully, you'll say them back.
579 notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 4 months
Text
Fine Line
prompt: ( requested ) going after the same silver briefcase, you and Tangerine exchange more than a few blows. pun intended.
pairing: Tangerine x female!assassin!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 5.2k+
note: got a little outside my comfort zone with this one, so, hopefully it's not 1000% trash but you've been warned now.
warnings: codename "Peach", basically the request with a FEW tweaks here and there, so, some spoilers, cursing, (shitty) slutty smut [spitting, squirting, mean!Tan, PIV, male receiving oral, degrading behavior, talk of tops and bottoms], Tan is a switch i do not care, is this enemies to lovers? yes. depiction of canon-typical physical violence, blood, injury.
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There was a fine line between love and hate.
You love your family, but God Almighty, did you hate their behavior in most public settings. You love homemade cake, but hate the entire baking process, especially the dishes. You love getting your nails done and feeling pampered, but hate sitting still in one place for that amount of time.
And you love getting fucked, but hate dealing with people.
The whole meeting someone, getting to know them, getting to a place of comfort to bring them home. It was a hassle, it was annoying to you; akin to an inconvenience and disruption. You didn't mind Tinder, actually - thinking of it as "Dick on Demand", never really needing the awkward stages of acquaintanceship. You didn't like going out places "to meet people", too busy with your work to truly put forth effort. Plus, your job didn't exactly allow for romantic entanglements to become knots; you had to keep loose and available.
This is what made your job ideal: it was remote, kept you busy, on the move, without the weight of baggage attached to people. Plus, it didn't give time nor room for anyone to become attached to you - something that always made you impossibly uncomfortable. A job such as this made life impossibly lonely, but you operated better this way - without anyone needing you, worrying about you, keeping tabs, being in your business. You liked being on your own, it was just easier. It made sense. There was logic behind it.
Didn't mean you were 100% alone, however. You had "coworkers"... Sorta. You had employers, though you were unsure where exactly they were stationed. You, yourself, resided mostly in London, but operated globally, wherever you were needed - or more like wherever you were sent to. These "coworkers" of yours had similar jobs, and while you hated putting a label on basically anything, in laymen's terms, you were a contract killer. Those you interacted with, typically, were other contract killers - but usually working different jobs.
Rarely were multiples from the same organization sent on the same job, yet it still happened.
On the off chance, you encountered a few individuals that were employed by other organizations; making them rivals instead of coworkers.
You were unsure which this all was yet...
You had been contracted by an invisible, anonymous employer to retrieve a silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle, your handler encouraging you to get off the bullet train the moment it was in your possession. But there was a problem: you weren't the only one working this case, if the Ladybug twat and Twins was any indication.
When you located the case, you were instantly engaged by the blonde man with thick, black framed glasses; honestly getting the shit kicked out of you.
Currently, you were in possession of the case, but that was sure to change since it had already switched hands multiple times that chaotic night. You had come to a skidding halt, panting heavily, bent over on your knees in a vacant first class train car after escaping (momentarily) from Ladybug. Spitting blood from your mouth, you dialed your handler with shaking fingers; heaving a deep sniffle.
"You still alive?"
"I'll fuckin' choke you myself, Susan, I swear t'God," you groaned, sliding to the ground in exhaustion; wiping the trail of blood from your nose with a grimace.
Susan chuckled, "What's happening, honey girl?"
"Y-You didn't tell me I wasn't the only one workin' this!"
"Well, I heard rumor the Twins might be on the same case, but you usually beat them to the punch, don't you?"
"Yeah, but not this time," you winced.
"I'm sure Tangerine was happy to see you," you could hear her grin.
"Fuck off."
"He's into you, you know."
"The man snapped my tibia, punctured my kidney, and broke my nose - don't think that constitutes as anything romantic."
"Oh, you're into it," she laughed. "And don't act as if he ever walked away, scot free. If I remember correctly, you've shanked him twice?"
"He deserved it," you coughed. "Listen, fuck Tangerine - "
"I know you want to."
"Susan! Fuckin' listen to me!" You snarled. "They're not alone - there's another guy. For fuck's sake, Susan, I just got my arse kicked by a dude with a manbun!"
"Another guy? With a manbun? They're still in style?"
"Oh, my God - does it even mat - YES, they're always in style. Listen, this guy goes by the name Ladybug. Who do we know that uses codenames like that? What org?"
"Hmm," Susan thought aloud.
"What?" You spat blood from your mouth again, licking at the split lip.
"Could be KBS? They use animal codenames on rotation."
"Fuck all," you groaned. "Well, Mr. Ladybug can throw a fuckin' punch. Think he cracked a rib. But you know what? He's handsome. Almost feel bad for knockin' his lights out."
"Where are you?"
You looked around, "Emotionally? Physically?"
"You know what I mean, Peach. Where's the case?"
"With me," you assured, "uh, and I, uh... I'm not 100% where I am, I missed a couple stops fightin' these dumbfucks. Might be four stops from Kyoto? Five?"
"Get off before the end of the line," Susan warned. "At this point, I don't care if you have the case or not."
"Wait... Susan, what's that mean?"
She paused and sighed deeply, "All right, fine, time to get serious. Some intel came in, Peach... And the White Death bought out the train until the end of the line. I actually care about your safety and this just screams danger, so, get off before Kyoto, Peach, my girl. Hear me?"
"I hear you, mamas," you agreed. "I'll get off next... Stop... Oh, you've got t'be joking! Fuck me!"
"Gladly," Tangerine smirked and jokingly reached for his belt with perked brows, standing in the automatic doorway; looking beat to hell, similar to you.
You glared at him and offered your middle finger, his hands dropping as he surveyed the train car.
"Peach?"
"I'll call you back, Susan," you deflected into the phone, quickly hanging up and deflating. "Jesus fuck, look, I'm really not in the mood, Tan. Can we just make this quick? The fuck you want?"
"Do I look like I'm here t'play fuckin' games, Peach?" Tangerine asked, stalking slowly towards where you were slumped in the aisle, mid-train car, while dripping in his own blood.
"Still look like a clown t'me," you quipped. "I'll ask again: the fuck you want, Tangerine?"
"Gonna need that case, sweet peach."
You scoffed. "Seriously? You're after it, too?"
"'Fraid so."
"How many of us are on assignment? For this one fuckin' case?" You snipped, kicking the case a little.
"You look like you've seen the Ladybug fucker, haven't yah, doll?"
"He with you?"
"Fuck no."
"Where's Lemon, then?"
"Few back," He gestured back over his shoulder, pausing when you got to your feet. "C'mon, love, don't do this," He warned, mustache curling as his lip did. There was a deranged look in his eye, something stirring in your gut; seeing the shine of tears never shed, the anger, a high-strung energy filling the space around you.
"I just want off this train, Tan," you begged quietly. "Look, call it whatever you want, but something else is goin' on here - shit ain't right. Be honest, how much more difficult has tonight been? Why have we all been sent after the same briefcase? When it's supposed to just be a fucking grab job?"
Tangerine cocked his head, "Nah, no, we're on delivery."
"What?"
"Yeah, supposed t'deliver this kid and the case t'his father in Kyoto," his brows knit together.
You scolded, "You dumb fuckin' idiot!"
"I beg your pardon, sweetheart?" He leered, stepping another step closer; knotting your stomach.
"You workin' for the White Death?"
"How'd you - "
"Susan got intel, said he bought out the train, Tan. Fuck's really goin' on?"
Tangerine's jaw flexed, sighing through his nose, "Guess cat's out the bag now, innit? Yeah," he sighed, shrugging a bit, "we're doin' this job for him."
"Which means he's gonna kill us at the end of the line - why else ensure there's no other witnesses?" There was a long pause, both staring into each other's eyes without shifting attention. You shrugged and whispered, "You know, we could just jump off the bloody train. Grab Lem, get off the train before Kyoto, just fuckin' go."
"Who gets the case?"
"Where's the kid you've gotta deliver?"
"Dead - murdered, actually."
"Then you're already fucked and your job's done," you shrugged, "so, I keep the case and we all three keep our lives."
Tan sighed through his nose, offering, "You drive a temptin' bargain, love. Always enjoy our li'l run-ins," his hand extended to rest on your waist, freezing time. "But I can't walk away without that case. Lemon's down, he's been drugged, so, trust me, I'm all for just jumpin' ship, but I need the case, darlin'."
"So do I, I have somewhere else to deliver it."
"Then we have ourselves a Mexican Standoff, then, yeah?"
"No, that'd require a third."
"Kinky, but I prefer t'keep things between us, wouldn't you?" He purred against your lips, not quite kissing you as his hand tightened over bruised skin.
"Tan, don't do this," you breathed in the space between you.
"For whatever it's worth, I do usually feel bad after kickin' your arse - though, I'd much rather prefer t'kiss it."
"We can arrange that later," you smiled prettily, surging forward to kiss him fully. It was sweaty, cruel, bloody, and rough - everything you knew Tangerine to be. Yet right when he seemed entranced enough, both his hands caging your hips to his, you bit his lip in time to bring your knee up into his groin.
It sparked your fight, both exchanging blows without hesitation. You could feel your adrenaline propelling you, but it was quickly dwindling as Tangerine seemed renewed and invigorated by your fight. You, however, fought dirty; you had to - you had no other choice. He was physically bigger, stronger, but you were faster, and dare you say it, smarter. You didn't need integrity when defending yourself, easily using Tan's strength against him to add to the collect of bruises, cuts, and blood smears. But he still managed to manhandle you, sending you careening into empty seats and giving you whiplash.
You managed to swing on his back, preventing him from reaching his gun; legs coiling around his arms and flexing your abs to yank backwards. You grunted when you hit an empty bench, his head bouncing between your breasts; holding him hostage for a brief moment before you felt his hands grip your thighs in an innocently provocative way.
The moan from your lungs was unintentional, Tan flipping you both so you were on your stomach; him hovering over your back with a grunt. But there was a familiar feeling pressed into your bottom, head lifting slightly to struggle under Tangerine's grip; his reaction being exactly what you wanted as he pressed further into you.
"Just - fucking stay still!" He barked, trying to pin your hands behind you.
"Oh, you'd like that, huh?" You snapped, still struggling. "Some submissive li'l bitch?"
"Oh, darlin', I love me a top," he growled in your ear, grinding his swelling cock further into your ample arse cheeks, "but only good girls are so lucky. But don't worry," he chuckled, "I usually have cuffs on me for the bad girls, hey?"
"Fuck off, Tan, get off," you grunted, wriggling; grinding your hips up into him to try and dislodge him. He breathed deeper, and your mind played tricks on you because you swore you felt him grind back.
"I quite like this position, though, love."
"Thought you liked a top?"
"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy my own moments, huh? And you seem like you're far too used t'gettin' your way."
"So, which is it, then? You wanna fuck me or get fucked by me?"
"That an earnest question?"
You paused, "If it means I get the case, fuck yeah."
"That's not what it means, doll, but if what Susan says is true..." He nuzzled your neck briefly, lips ghosting your ear, mustache tickling your skin as he finished, "Might not get another chance."
You know he loosened his grip to let your arms snap back under you; groaning in relief. After panting for a moment, you lifted your head again, feeling his cheek brush yours and pausing to relish in the oddly intimate position. "We can always get the fuck off this train? Find a hotel in a nearby city?" You offered. "Can get me all night if you play your cards right."
"Know I can't, sweet peach," he whispered.
"Then why waste more time?" You mused, hissing when his mouth instantly fell to your neck in an open kiss that scraped his teeth into your soft flesh. "Hey - no! No ti-ime," your word hitched when he licked the sensitive skin in-sync with a roll of his hips, thrusting his hardening cock into the crease of your cheeks; making your spine shudder when his teeth scraped again.
"We got a li'l time," he promised. "Enough for a taste? You as sweet as your name, baby? Huh?"
"Tan, oh, my God," you breathed in disbelief when he reared back and manhandled you so he could unlatch the buckle of your belt and start shucking the material from your hips. "What if someone - "
"Shut up," he snapped, freeing your thighs. "Got me too fuckin' worked up t'worry 'bout someone walkin' in, yeah? Both know what's waitin' for us, don't we?"
"The White Death," you felt him yank your pants to your ankles and then shove your shoes off, pants following to the floor. "Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he roughly fingered your slit over your newly exposed panties, hearing his belt buckle jingle.
"Oi, no - "
"Fuck off," you snapped when you turned over suddenly, forcing him to pull back and glare, "I wanna watch - might as well give me a show, right? Since you're 'bouta get us all killed?"
He scoffed, "You're gettin' off the train, darlin', you're not meetin' the White Death tonight."
"Damn straight," you hooked your panties with your thumbs, lifting your hips, yanking the garment down as Tangerine continued to unlatch his belt, peel down his zipper, then pull both his boxers and trousers down in one motion.
"This isn't gonna be soft and sweet, love," he warned, standing over you on the train seat; pumping his cock to full mast while never lifting his eyes from you. "I've wanted you longer than I'll ever admit, I've got some ideas."
Your eyes rolled and fingers skated down your dampening cunt, "You're on a time schedule, maybe shut the fuck up and just fuck me already?"
He scoffed, lowering himself over you and making you gulp in anticipation; hands gravitating to his blackened waist. "You sure got a fuckin' mouth on you, don't'cha? That's all right, doll, I got somethin' for yah." His hand rose to pop a few buttons on your blouse, exposing your bra, asking, "You got a safe word?"
"Tangerine."
"Hmm? What?"
"No, that's my safe word."
"You fuckin' shithead," he hissed over your mouth, lips parting in a silent gasp when his hot cock dropped over your cunt in a tantalizing tease. "Be serious for once, yeah?"
You shrugged, "How's about 'pineapple', or is that one of your buddies names?"
"Pineapple it is," he grumbled, descending to your lips in a searing kiss that stole your breath and made your nails curl into his flesh. But a whimper emitted when he pulled back suddenly, standing over you, and moving towards your head. "Open," he demanded, holding his cockhead at your lips. "Don't give me shit about time, you need t'learn. Open your mouth."
You obediently opened your lips and Tan wasted no time in thrusting himself into your mouth; not too deep, not too rough, but enough to make you inhale sharply and readjust your position. Your one hand pumped what couldn't fit in your mouth, the other holding his thigh for balance; choking from the awkward position, but it made Tan smirk.
"That's it, see? Not so hard," he mocked. "Just gotta keep your mouth busy." You whimpered, cradling his balls; giving a playful squeeze that made him moan lightly. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this," he reached for your cheek and jaw, gently moving his hips - making you pause yourself to let him move. "Oh, fuck, that's - fuck," he seethed, "just let me do whatever I want t'you, won't you? Take a li'l more, good, good, just breathe," he guided, mouth opening in shock when he watched more of himself disappear in your mouth. "Oh, Jesus - you're such a dirty fuckin' girl, look at yah - so eager, willing," he nearly choked when he hit the back of your throat. "Shit - baby, don't," he paused to grunt, hunching over slightly and holding himself up on the back cushion of the train's seating. "Don't hurt yourself," he whimpered, your jaw opening just a fraction more, throat constricting when his cockhead slid against your uvula.
"Oh, my God," he praised, testing the waters and trying to thrust - but your gagging and choking made him pull back. "Okay, okay, too much, sorry, love. Oh, shit," he gasped when you didn't let him pull out all the way, still sucking him as if you were getting paid for it. "Yeah? 'S like that? Oh, you Godsend angel. Gonna be good fa' me? Huh? Keep quiet?" He asked gruffly, making you swallow around him; earning a hiss. "You're fuckin' dangerous, aren't you?" He scoffed, "Too bad I won't get t'take my time, innit? Fuck."
You hummed as he retracted his hips fully. His eyes caught yours as he spread your saliva around his swollen member, hearing you mumble, "Can still get off with me."
He sighed, "Isn't that easy, doll," as he lowered himself back onto the bench over you. "There's more at stake - "
"I know," you nodded, guiding his forehead to yours as you pet his cheeks; the cut he earned smearing against your skin. "Just an offer, ain't it? Just thought if yah did come, could actually have yah in my mouth - like I want." You both paused, you telling him in a whisper, "Can choke me with your cock - hmm?"
He groaned, nuzzling your nose once before kissing you swiftly, deeply. His tongue swept against yours, tasting himself briefly; rubbing his warm cock into your inner thigh as he swallowed your moans of budding pleasure. So caught up in the way he made you feel, you squeaked when his hand suddenly rose and clasped around your throat, eyes popping open as your own hands dropped to his waist in shock.
"Choke me with your dick, Tan," you reminded.
"This works, though, still shuts you up."
"You're so fuckin' bold for this," you accused, gasping when his hand tightened.
"Then maybe shut the fuck up, girl, Goddamn," he seethed, biting your bottom lip, reopening the split, tightening his hand another degree. "You're gonna be a good fuckin' girl, aren't you? Huh? Think you can manage that? Know you got a problem with authority, doll, but you're gonna do as you're told, aren't yah?"
You glared but didn't answer.
"Yeah, that's real good," he mused when you had no words. "Now open your fuckin' mouth again."
When you did, he dribbled a line of spit onto your tongue, squeezing his hand around your throat and jaw when he wanted you to swallow. His smirk was something sinister and devious, peaking down to then paw your blouse the rest of the way open and tug your bra down until your breasts were exposed.
"Fuckin' knew you had great tits," he grit while gripping, twisting, tweaking your breast meat and nipple; not letting go of your throat to ensure your silence. "Not good for much else, huh? Are you?" He sneered, "Only sent on a grab job, weren't you? But look at you now, so fuckin' ready for me, so needy, excited, all distracted, desperate for my cock - aren't you? Answer me right fuckin' now," he growled.
"Yes," you croaked, gyrating your hips up into his; feeling his bare cock drag over your cunt and salivating.
"Good," he spoke to himself, shoving your hips back down as one hand rose to hold his cheek to keep yourself grounded. He chuckled to himself, "Just pathetic, innit? The way you crave me? Dumb fuckin' girl, can't even focus on a simple mission, can she? Huh? Can you?"
"No," you whimpered, "need more. Please, please."
"Shut up, I got you," he rolled his eyes, "but you don't really deserve it, do you?"
"I do, I swear - "
"Told you to shut the fuck up, though, yeah? Can't even do a simple task, got your head all stupid, do I? 'S good t'know, if we survive this."
You glared, seeing his grin widen before he was descending onto you again. You licked through the seam of his lips, being granted access; exploring the other's mouth in feverish motions that made your head spin and cunt contract. He still toyed with your tit, then abandoning the ministration to scale down your bodies to where you needed him most while your hand slid into his hair to grip his bloody scalp. You were so close to begging, yet you'd never give a man the satisfaction... Yet if Tangerine requested you to beg, beg you shall.
"That's my girl," he praised when he pet swiftly up your slit; gathering your slick in a single motion to spread around your clit. "Yeah, there's my girl, look at yah," he laughed over your mouth, "already so fuckin' dumb and I ain't even touch yah yet."
You whined a little, his hand readjusting his grip.
"Oh, fuckin' fine, you greedy bitch," he rolled his eyes, sinking a single digit into your heat; earning a high-pitched moan of relief. Tangerine laughed again, "Yeah? So desperate that just me fuckin' finger gets you like that?"
You tapped his wrist when he held a little too tight, him instantly loosening his grip around your throat. He rewarded you with a few pumps of his finger before adding a second, grinning when you had enough airflow to moan loud and clear.
"You make such pretty noises," he praised, "stupid, but pretty noises. Lemme hear you - that's all I wanna hear, not your fuckin' words, princess. Huh? Can you do that for me?"
You nodded, ready to cry from the anticipation he built in your body. With your bottom lip between your teeth, you let yourself clench around his digits, moaning when he massaged that spongy good spot of your inner walls.
"Wait - Tan - wait, wait," you begged and released his waist to reach for his wrist while he grinned.
"Aht," he let go of your neck to lay across your hips to keep hold, "stay there, be a good girl. Lemme see you - c'mon, love, get there for me," he pumped harder, faster, a small sweat coating your skin. The sounds were obscure and messy, sloppy and frantic, wet and pornographic; his breathing deep and huffy while yours was high-pitched. "So fuckin' pretty like this, under me like this. There's a good girl, yeah, chase that feelin', 's all right, don't run from me."
"Tan-Tangerine, shit, please," you babbled, unsure of yourself. "I-I don't - I don't - oh, fuck!"
"Let it happen," he encouraged, leering over you; only briefly aware of his cock leaking precum on your thigh. "Let that feeling take you, there's a good girl, you're right there - good fuckin' girl," Tan broke his mean streak to praise you briefly, feeling the familiar flutter. "Open, hey, hey, eyes on me, princess," he waited until your half-lidded eyes met his, watching him nod, "open your mouth." You were so blissed out, you didn't think, just doing so and accepting more of his spit. He grinned at you when your eyes rolled back, encouraging, "Go for it, pretty girl, fuckin' soak me, don't hold back - c'mon, wanna fuckin' feel you, need t'fuckin' feel you cum - ohh-hoo, yes, yes, yes," he chanted when you squealed, squirmed, and released a stream of squirt that splattered over you both.
But that wasn't all.
Tangerine was mesmerized, never relenting his efforts and before you had time to recover, he was forcing another wave of cum from your core. His thick body held yours in place, desperately squirming to try and get away from the overwhelming feeling; but he had you and wouldn't let go. "One more, one more, one more," Tan panted, hovering over you as his bulging bicep kept hammering into you without relent. He kissed you messily, "One more, baby, c'mon, I know you got it in you."
"I can't," you sobbed, trying to squirm away under him.
"You can, doll, you're right there, I fuckin' feel you - such a good girl, c'mon," he encouraged, offering a few messy kisses to your lips while you wantonly moaned without control. "One more, just for me, c'mon, baby, you can do it - just fa' me - there she is, yes, oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes," he laughed when you, for a third time, came in his hand and over his crotch.
"FUCK!" You yelped when he used the messy slick of your orgasm to line himself up and plunge directly into you. "Oh, shit - just - a minute, baby, hang on - fuck," you panted, holding his hips tightly with your legs spread. Slowly, you let them fall around his own as you relaxed.
"Got you, baby, 'M right here, take yah time," he whispered, flattening his tongue up your neck as he adjusted himself between your legs.
Half a minute later, you gave him permission to move - and it was the beginning of the end. You were sensitive, tight, gripping Tangerine to a new degree he hadn't felt before; his head spinning and mind short circuiting. You were nearly constrictive, webs of your stickiness coating him as he moved stiffly for the first few thrusts. As you loosened up under him, he gained momentum; your hands directing his face back to yours as you clung desperately to his hulking form.
He kissed you like it was the last thing he'd do (and maybe it was), holding your hips so he could drill into you easier; lifting one hand to pet your throat before gripping it, like before. The other then drifted to hike your leg up his hip, the new angle making him shudder lightly. "I'm there, love," he grunted, looking concentrated and borderline in pain, "right fuckin' there - ah shit, you feel so fuckin' good."
"Yes, yes, don't stop, Tan, please," you moaned, locating your clit to apply pressure and rub in harsh little circles.
"Ah, my greedy girl," he chuckled, "three wasn't enough?"
"Wanna cum with you," you whimpered, gasping into his mouth as you were overly sensitive and careened off your cliff. Your orgasm triggered Tangerine's, who plunged completely into you and held still while his balls contracted; mouths left gaping open against the other. In complete bliss, you shared a laugh of disbelief with sweaty foreheads pressed together - both forgetting reality for a bit.
At the moment Tan opened him mouth to confess something to you, Lemon decided to stumble in through the automatic door, yelling, "Bruv! Oi! Where you at!?"
"GET OUT!" Tangerine roared, barely visible over the top of the benches.
"The fuck you doin', mate?"
You latched your legs around Tan, keeping his cock planted snuggly inside you; rocking upward to hold onto his neck and spy his brother over the back of the seating. "Hi, Lem!" You chirped.
"Peach? Oh, fuck me!" He laughed. "Or - fuck you, ammirite?"
"Give us a minute, honey, would you, please?"
"Only a minute?" He laughed again. "'Cause that's all you need, right, Tan?"
"Fuck off, Lemon," Tangerine snapped. "We got the case, we're gettin' the fuck off at the next stop - just - fuck off a minute."
Lemon shrugged, "You make the plans, mate."
"Be out inna bit, love, thank you," you smiled prettily at Lemon, who finally nodded, held his hands up in defense and backed out of the train car. "Well," you mused when Tangerine leaned back into the seat but kept a firm grip on your hips, "that was only mildly embarrassing."
"He's seen me in worse positions," Tan shrugged, blinking when he realized how that sounded, exactly. "Not like that - no, just, I mean, as my bruva, you know, he's seen - you know what?" He sighed. "Don't fuckin' matter."
"So," you smirked, grinding your hips over his public hair, "you're taking my advice? Gettin' off the train?"
"I knew you were greedy, but this naughty, too?" He groaned, slapping his hands to your hips and guiding your motions. "Just filled you, love, and you want more?"
"That an issue?" You smirked, feeling him swell in you again.
"Not a bit," he smirked.
"Answer me," you demanded. "You seriously gettin' off?"
"Why the fuck not? The kid's dead and whatever's in the case should cover however pissed off this makes the bosses, right? Though..." He trailed off when one of your hands reached around to give a gentle tug on his balls.
"Keep goin'," you whispered with a growing smirk, hips swirling.
"Though," he cleared his throat, "don't think we've ever not finished a job before."
"This is different," you promised.
He gulped harshly, encouraging your motions; stretching up to squeeze both breasts and making you falter slightly into him. "All three of us are gonna get off, yeah?" He whispered, bringing you in closer as your hips began to rise and fall with steady tempo. "Got somewhere fa us t'go?"
"I'll get it arranged," you promised swiftly, arms coiling around his neck to hold yourself in position as you increased your speed. "But we're giving my employer the case."
"Fine with me," he nodded, "just wanna stay alive at this point." You chuckled with him, raising up to keep riding him; his eyes glancing over your shoulder and stiffening. "Uh, love? H-Hang on, hang on," his arms encased you suddenly, making you stop all ministrations.
"W-What's wrong? You okay?"
"Where's the fucking case?"
Your waist twisted to snap your torso around, peering over at the empty benches you had once sat in front of. Your blood was left behind... But the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle was missing.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
Six train cars up, Ladybug shuddered and told Maria, "Christ, they were at it like rabbits. And, hey, like, is it cool to be mean during sex now? 'Cause he was kinda mean, but she seemed into it, so... That's cool, I guess?"
"Some people like that," Maria eased.
"Do you?"
"You don't want that answer. Do you have the case?"
"For now," he sighed. "How much you wanna bet they haven't noticed, yet? Bet they're still goin' at it..."
"You sound jealous."
"They're both very attractive people... Hm, you know, maybe I am a little jealous."
"Of which one?"
"Not entirely sure yet."
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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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!💖
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voxmortuus · 10 months
Note
I have a very specific DARKFIC request for you with a pretty serious trigger warning.
Tangerine and non-con with a virgin fem reader. Eventually the reader starts to enjoy it as the scene caries out. Bonus points for pet name use and a splash of breeding kink.
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✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Dark!Tangerine x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Bullet Train ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2.6k ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Virgin Reader | Rough Intercourse | Hitting | Spitting | Choking | Hair Pulling | Bleeding | Degradation | slamming readers into bathroom wall | Pressing readers head against the wall | Taking it from behind | NON-CONSENSUAL UNPROTECTED INTERCOURSE | Eventual consent with reader enjoying the scene | Mention of Cock warming | Eager to please Reader | Pet name | Breeding Kink | Cream Pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ DISCLAIMER: *̥˚✧ DO NOT ROMANTICISE OR GLAMORIZE SERIAL KILLERS OR RAPE! I do not condone these actions, nor do I support them! This was written upon request. Do NOT send me hate mail, you will be blocked, do not post on this with any sort of negativity you will be blocked. If you don’t like it don’t read it it’s that simple!!! If you ever encounter this in real life please contact the Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline. Please understand this is a fanfiction, think of it like Hollywood. Also, I’m sorry if this is horrible….. ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well, I hope this hits all the right notes with you. ✧*̥˚ IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧
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It's like his nose was a hound dog for that virgin blood. Watching you sit there on the train in an empty car you were reading your most current favorite book The Terminal List by Jack Carr, with your earbuds in listening to the latest song you were hooked on by Ice Nine Kills. You were minding your own business when this man dressed sharply sits across from you. Looking up you give him a polite smile and went back to your book.
After a brief observation of the man sitting across from you, you noticed he had blood on his shirt, but you didn't think much of it. Sure alarming, but it was what it was, especially these days. Licking your lips, you turn the page. You feel these eyes on you. You glance up and sure enough, he's looking at you like you were some delicious snack. You give a slightly tense smile and look back down at your book.
You start to feel uncomfortable; your heart is racing; your mind is focused less on the book and music and more on this strange man sitting across from you staring you down. You lick your lips once more before you gather your small backpack and excuse yourself. You feel him watching you, but you don't look back, you just keep going.
Upon excusing yourself, you head toward the bathroom. Closing yourself in there you try and calm your nerves. You look over yourself in the mirror and shake yourself a bit and let out a slow breath. You plan to go back out after a few more moments and move to a different car.
After fixing your makeup, you finally get your nerves calm enough to return to the car. Opening the bathroom door, you walk right into his chest, and you stumble a moment.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." You say softly.
He didn't say anything. He gripped your throat and moved you back into the bathroom closing the door and locking it.
"Excuse me... no. Let me out." You state firmly.
"Babydoll, you need to be relax and be polite." He smirks.
"You need to fuck off... no." You state trying to push past him.
He pushed you back against the wall and shook his head and licked at his lips. "I don't think so Babydoll."
"I'm not you're Babydoll, and you need to back off." You state firmly, but it appears he's not listening.
You try and push him off you but his strength wasn't letting that happen. His hand starts to roam your body.
"What the fuck! Stop it!" you snap.
"You need to shut up." He states as he slams you against the wall.
Turning you around he reaches around and slips his hand under your shirt groping you. He lets out a soft groan against your neck. You begin to panic and pushing back but he keeps you in place with his forearm.
"Stop... please stop." You plead.
He hears you, but he doesn't listen, and he moves from your chest to slipping his hand into your leggings and realizes you're not wearing any panties and he smirks.
"Such an easy little slut you are huh?" He muses.
"Please don't do this." you beg. Your eyes well with tears. Closing your eyes tears drop.
"Oh come on now Babydoll, I love when they cry..." He purrs into your ear as he starts to massage your bud.
You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind running miles a minute. You try and choke back tears, but you feel like you can't breathe, and you try and fight him off but he's just keeping you there.
Closing your eyes you let out a soft breath and you attempt to push yourself away again, trying to escape from it all, your mind races, your heart pounds, your eyes crying.
"Please, please don't do this. I'm begging you. I'll give you whatever you want, but please stop." You plead.
"Oh Babydoll, you're going to give me exactly what I want." He smirked as he pressed himself against you.
Was he hard? Oh geez... oh no, yes, yes he was and then you knew your fate. He slips your leggings down as he presses your head against the wall. Your breathing quickens. You had no idea what to expect, you were saving yourself for the right person, the right moment, and here he was getting ready to rob you of that, to take it all away from you.
Thoughts ran through your head. Why you? Why now? Why this? What did you do to deserve this? Why won't he listen? All these on repeat, and it wouldn't stop. Why won't he stop? Why is he doing this?!
Trying to find your words to plead you turn around to try and push him but he is quick to slap you across the face and it causes your lip to bleed. You whimper a moment, and you try and fight back but he again, slams you against the bathroom wall. With a hand around your throat he spins you back around and slams you against the wall again.
"God damn it Babydoll, be a good girl." He snarls into your ear.
Moving from your neck to your hair he grips a hand full of your hair and moves you so he can position himself, but you fight. He snarls again before he says fuck it, and shoves his hard cock between your virgin lips and rips your innocence from you in one swift thrust.
You scream, in pain, the snapping, the hot pinch of pain, the searing hot rush hits you and you take in a jagged breath.
"No... no no no! Stop! PLEASE!" you plead but there is no stopping.
You try and fight him, but with him pinning you against the wall you can't escape him. His thrusts become quick, they become hard, and they hurt. His growling his snarling, his grunts and groans fill the bathroom and all you want is to be let go, return to your seat, read your book, listen to your music, that of which was now on the floor from the fighting. Your ear buds letting the music escape from them freely while you're being held hostage against this bathroom wall.
You begin to cry, hard, but this only seems to fuel him even more. Why was this happening right now. You begin to breathe heavily in panic. Your chest moving rapidly with each thrust, it wasn't out of enjoyment, it was out of panic, and anger, and aggression. He tilts your head back and your mouth opens only for him to spit in your mouth. You growl and spit back but he slams your head against the bathroom wall as his thrusts become harder.
You try and find your happy spot, but it wasn't working, everything was becoming too much. You couldn't get your mind to focus. So you focus on what's around you. The buttons for the toilet, the scent of the bathroom, the scent of him, the scent of blood... wait, blood? Oh, yeah... blood... that happens in moments like this. And then you feel angry again. This hot rush of anger hits you and you start to fight again.
"LET ME GO!" You start to fight again. Trying to push him away. But with the angle he's got you at makes it difficult.
"Babydoll, shut up." He growls. "You can fight all you want, you're giving me nothing but a harder cock." He smirks.
You growl and try and fight but that wasn't happening. His thrusts were hard, rigid, painful, your hips felt like they couldn't withstand the thrusts. You take in a jagged breath, you clench your jaw and you try and jerk your head with his hand in your hair and he only slams your head against the wall again.
You feel this daze hit you, one too many slams against the wall, you feel this tingling in your nose as he starts to thrust a little slower. Was he taking his time? You close your eyes trying to find that happy place, but all you can feel and see and focus on was his face, and how he felt stretching your virgin cunt. You clench your jaw breathing out of your nose.
You didn't want to think about it. You didn't want to feel this, you wanted this bubbling feeling to go away. You clenched your jaw and attempted to think of something else. The harder he thrust, the slower he took, the more your mind focused on the way it felt, how his cock felt slipping in and out just enough to tease the length. You actually felt yourself getting wet and you clench your walls around him. Not out of pleasure, but out of hopes of stopping yourself of getting wet, you didn't like it, you didn't want it.
You wanted to save it... but there was no saving anything. You hated him, you were angry with him, you hated him, you wanted to kill him... to rip his heart out and eat it with a side of french fries. You sniffle as you try and regain yourself and pushing back against him he shoves you forward again, his thrusts deep, slow, almost teasingly slow. What was he doing? Oh no, no he knew what he was doing. He wanted you to cave, but you weren't going to. You didn't want to.
This wasn't a game, this was a fight, and you wanted him to stop, taking all the stops but you weren't able to move, you felt this sense of defeat, accepting what it was. You just stood there, as he used you.
"That's it Babydoll... acceptance. You're tight little cunt feels so good... that tight little cunt belongs to me now. It's now molded for my cock. I'll be keeping you close Babydoll, use you whenever I want." He purred against your ear with a slight snarl.
You had no words, but why were they doing something to you, why were they making you feel conflicted. Why were you liking this? Your breathing picked up. You bite your lip a little harder.
"I'm going to breed you, fill you every day. Use you like the little slut fleshlight you are." He mused.
Okay now that did something. You whimper softly. Biting your lip, your hips spread a bit as you arch back a bit taking in more of him. He doesn't say anything in this moment, you just take his cock, focusing back on the feel of it, focusing on the way it fit inside you just right. Focusing on how it made you feel, you feel yourself loosen up around him, feeling yourself getting wetter.
"You...you... want to breed me?" You ask with an almost timid voice.
"I'm going to breed the fuck out of you Babydoll. You like that?" He asked.
You think a moment and nod. "Are you going to fill me up?" You ask.
He laughs with a slight groan. "Whenever I want." He purrs against your ear again.
You focus on the things around you, and you realize the title of the next song. Dirty Thoughts by Chloe Adams. You bite your lip and you let out a soft whimper, feeling how long he was, how wide he was, how he stretched you, you think about his words, how he wanted to use you, how he breathed, how he wanted to breed you. Your breathing picks up a little more.
It went from you hating this moment, to you starting to enjoy this moment.
"I want you to use me... to breed me... to fill me up..." You admit.
The thought of it, dripping his seed from your cunt was something that actually really turned you on. Biting your bloodied bruised lip you let out a soft moan as you spread your legs a little more letting him slip deeper and you press your ass toward him letting him take even more.
"That's it Babydoll, take more of my cock." He growled as he started to thrust upward into you.
You gaps feeling him slip fulling into you, feeling him hit right to the base of his shaft.
"You're so big... you feel.... you feel..." you don't want to say it.
"I feel what Babydoll?" He asked.
"You feel good... I like how you fill up my virgin pussy." You state. Where was this smut coming from? Where was this seeping from? Must have been all the fanfiction you were reading before coming on this train. "Please... fuck me a little slower... I want to feel all of you." You plead.
He blinked a few times and smirked. "My pleasure Babydoll." He mused.
Slowing his thrusts, you think a moment and you reach down to slip your pants off your leg.
"I want to face you.... please... I want you to face me and fuck me." You plead.
He smirks and pulls from you. This moment you could run, but you slip the pantleg off and place your hands on his shoulders and he lifts you and presses you against the wall, noticing the bruising on the side of your face, the blood from your lip, he leans forward and licks at your chin and sucks on your lip as he slips his cock back inside your slightly bleeding wet drippy cunt.
You let out a soft moan against his lips as you wrap your legs around his waist and feel him thrust deeper within your walls. They begin to message him.
You rest your head against the wall behind you. Your hands move from his shoulders to play at the hairline at his neck. As he bounces you against his cock your bud is rubbing against him and the sensation is overwhelming. You let out a loud moan. Feeling yourself getting wetter you close your eyes as they roll back. You whimper and moan rather loudly.
"That's it Babydoll, enjoy yourself." He smirks.
"Oh fuck... oh fuck... breed me... fuckin hell breed me. Pump me full." You moan loudly.
He looks over you and tilts his head and smirks as he picks up his pace, thrusting faster, harder, deeper. You feel yourself getting close. You clench your jaw as you drop your head against his shoulder. Your breathing quickens, he begins to pick up his pace a little more, his breathing, his moans quicken as he pumps into you.
"FUCK!" you scream as your body begins to shake.
Never experiencing pleasure like this, you were going to quickly get addicted. He slams you down on his cock.
"Fill me! FILL MY CUNT! BREED ME!" you scream.
He chuckles. "An eager Babydoll you are... I'm going to enjoy filling you up everyday." he smirked as he gave a few more slams and lets out a heavy groan.
Your body shook as you just let everything go. Your whole body just releases and takes his hot ribbons of breeding seed. You scream with a finish as he continues to pump his load into you.
You grip at his hair a moment, your breathing erratic, your mind calm and quiet, your body tingling, sore, and euphoric. Everything felt good and sore at the same time.
"Fuck..." You pant. You look over him. "Do you have a name?" You ask him.
"Sir works just fine, Babydoll." He smirks.
You tilt your head and smirk. "Does this mean I'm all yours now?" You ask.
He looks at you and smirks. "With a mouth like that, damn fuckin straight it does Babydoll." He states with confidence.
"Can we do this again soon?" You ask.
"Are you going to fight me next time?" he asked.
"No... but maybe I can make you hard and I can sit on it while we wait for the next stop?" You ask.
"Cock warming may be a little too advanced for you." he smirked.
"And this wasn't? I'll warm your cock, and you can fill me up again." You smirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tagging: @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes
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keravnous · 10 months
Text
the hunter! ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)
read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 3 here
Tangerine expected someone else - but he'll do just fine with you, too.
(Based on that one scene from the Kraven The Hunter trailer where he turns around in that chair with the loaded crossbow)
warnings: kids, this is dark; this is like the darkest version of tangerine my brain has cooked up thus far; he is a sociopath by source sooo: manipulation; dub-con/non-con, coercion, gun kink, anger issues, crying, blood, murder/injuries, daddy kink, masturbation, slight dumbification, name-calling, pet names, corruption kink, spit kink
SO I SAW THE KRAVEN THE HUNTER TRAILER AND I REALLY COULDNT HELP MYSELF
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"You fucking asshole!", you scream at the top of your lungs, bursting through the large door of your husband's office. It slams back into the lock just as you come to a halt on the expensive fur carpet in the middle of the spacious room.
His chair is facing the wall, a lit cigarette slowly glimming away in the ashtray. It lights up your rage like a match to gasoline.
"I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking dickhead! Can't you keep your dirty-ass dick out of that disgusting bitch you call a secretary for one day?", you are fuming, heart racing as you stomp down with your left heel, throwing your expensive and ridiculously small purse at him, missing the chair by nearly a whole foot. It crashes into the massive painting hanging behind the desk, where it leaves a nasty cut before falling to ground uselessly.
Your husband does not react and that, oh that, that get's you going alright, makes your blood race through your veins so hard you can hear it in your ears.
"I am fucking speaking to you -- turn the fuck around you coward!", you yell, hands clutched to tight fists, your jewellery cutting into the flesh.
Slowly, comedically slowly even, the chair turns. The man sitting in it puts his feet up on the table, legs clad in an expensive navy pin-stripe as he crosses them. And that --
That is not your husband.
The man, sitting in a chair that clearly isn't his, in an office that surely doesn't belong to him, is lean and a lot more handsome than the man you so reluctantly married a few years ago. His face is expressionless, bland like piece of paper, except for the anger pooling around his eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking pin-stripe suit and his hair is neatly combed back, 70s porn stache trimmed just as carefully - the only thing that looks out of place is the blood splattered on his face like freckles, one large splatter on his left cheek.
He is also pointing a gun at you. An actual fucking gun.
"And who the fuck are you, Lady?", he says, casually, but a little irritated nonetheless.
You choke on your own tongue, backing up a little. This is not good. It has your fight or flight kicking in, muscles in your back and legs tensing up and brain going numb, fingers starting to tingle.
"Don't ya move an inch", he growls, his gun following your movement. You freeze. You wonder if he will actually shoot you. You wonder what he is doing here.
"I-, I--"
The man rolls his eyes at you - pretty, pretty eyes; blue like the sea - and huffs out an exasperated sigh.
"Fuckin' answer me." His tone sends shivers down your spine and, if you did not already do so by his gun, you now know for sure that he is not playing around.
"I-", you take a deep breath, voice shaking and thin, "I- I am Markov's wife?"
It comes out more like a question, than an answer, really. You hope it will do; you hope he is happy with what is the - for you, rather sad - truth.
Tangerine cocks an eyebrow, leans back in the leather chair, gun still pointing at you. "'S that so?"
"Y-yes", you gulp.
"Didn't know he had a wife", he mutters, more to himself, really.
Tangerine can feel how the wheels in his head start to turn - the intel didn't suggest a marriage. It genuinely surprises him - not only because people in this profession rarely have spouses - but also because the young lady in front of him is way too pretty. Angelic, even. Too good for a boastful, careless cockroach of a criminal like Markov is. And he wants her, wants to own her. Wants to take take take. He wonders just how quickly she will break.
You, in the meantime, sense an opening.
"W-what do you want? I can g-give you money", you hastily stumble over the words, anxiety crawling up your spine, "A-all of it!"
The man raises his eyebrows, snorts amused. "No, love, I don't need your money."
"A-anything, p-please - just, just", and the dam breaks, eyes tearing up as your eyes zero in on the gun, "Just please d-don't kill me."
Something in his eyes changes, a dark shadow dancing over his face, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and then he pulls back the hammer of his revolver with his thumb. Your knees buckle a little as you hear the bullet snapping in place.
"Care to say that again, eh?" - Anything for your life, really.
"P-please don't kill me", you nearly sob, voice small and quiet, and you are ready, willing to put it all in there, "Please, I am begging you, Mister. I- I don't know why you're here, this - this is one big misunderstanding, I don't know anything about my husband's business. J-just let me go, please."
He does not move. You don't want to die, you are young, you still have a life to live. Maybe you will finally file for divorce. Maybe you will buy a house in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- You don't want to die.
"Please."
Tangerine says nothing for a moment, then his lips tilt up. "Tell me, love, d'ya beg for him that prettily, too? Or 's that just f'me?"
You blink. "What?", you blurt out.
"Jus' lemme hear it again, sugar - sounded so sweet, that."
You do not know what game he is playing but you really aren't ready to die yet either, so you give in.
"Please", you beg, looking at him with big, teary eyes - the barrel of the revolver stares back, a small black hole of ultimate death -, "Please, let me live." His lips tilt up and you decide to make a move on it, catch him off-guard.
"I-I'd do anything, I give you whatever you want!", you are growing desperate now, your brain trying its hardest to come up with something that will safe your ass. And that, that has his eyebrows knotting together.
The man seems to mull it over for a short while, eyes you up and down. Your skin tingles with it, feels numb and like it is on fire at the same time. "Did ya just say Anything, love?"
"I-I did, y-yes", and your voice grows desperate, "I'd do anything - just don't kill me, please, what do you want, I'll do --"
You ramble on and Tangerine rolls his eyes at you, exhales annoyed.
"Fuckin' shut up", he growls and you do, chin quivering a little with the tears still pooling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, sniffling a little.
"Here's what we're gonna do, love", he smiles cooly, shows his teeth like a predator, eyes drilling into you, "We're gonna have a little fun. And once we're done, I'll let ya go. How does that sound? Agreed?"
You have a suspicion what fun means, both, painfully clear and enforced by the way his gaze wanders over your body and you gulp. You really don't have a choice now, do you?
So you can hear yourself say: "Y-yes."
"Yes --?", he lifts his gun a little, gestures with it, "C'mon be a good girl."
Your eyes widen. You are not stupid; you know what he most likely wants to hear - you have met men like him before your marriage - and despite it making your stomach tingle a little it also makes painfully clear what he is imagining as A little fun.
Your voice is small, fingers fumbling with the hem of your tweed blazer. "Y-yes, Daddy", shivers run down your spine as his eyes turn dark dark dark, gaze transfixed by you and then he barks out a mean laugh.
"Fuckin' hell", what?, "I wanted you to thank me, you dumb fuckin' thing, not be a complete 'n utter slut about it."
Shame burns on your cheeks and you scramble for words - anything to say, to excuse or justify yourself - as mortification swallows you whole, crawls up your spine and mingles with your fear, has your head swimming.
"What a poor lil' airhead ya are", he grins at you meanly, "But I like it, go 'head, keep callin' me that. Probably gets you all wet, dunnit?"
You shake your head wildly - "N-no" - bottom lip quivering a little and he knows you are lying.
And Tangerine starts to grow bored. He has been feeling quite bored for a good while - since he blew Markov's lights out to be exact. He wishes he had not done it so soon, would have rather tied him up and let him watch how he has his way with his wife. Tangerine sighs, puffs his cheeks and let’s go off a breath dramatically, looks you straight in the eye.
"Alright, listen. I just don't have all day, so ya better get going, before I pop ya too", he waves his revolver at you, "Get undressed. 'n do it slowly."
You nod - I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die - fingers brush over the first button of your blazer, as he interrupts you: "Ah ah ah, what d'ya say?"
Your eyelids flutter and your knees feel like giving in. "Y-yes, Daddy."
Tangerine hums deep in his throat. "Atta girl - now keep going."
With shaking hands, cold sweat pooling between your fingers, you start to slowly unbutton the first few buttons of your costume's blazer. It's a Chanel tweed set, since you had just been out with some friends for lunch, before one of them told you about what had she'd seen yesterday. Part of you wishes you had never left the restaurant, just shrugged it off and ordered another drink instead. You don't even know why you fight for this marriage - you never really spoke to him; he never touched you or even really looked at you - not that you minded that much. But it's losing your status, the money he brings in, that you'd miss and thus, you had grown a nice pair of manicured claws over time.
See where that got you.
Your blazer falls to the ground with a thud and Tangerine licks his lips. And that is when another part of you, very quietly at the back of your mind, is a little glad you came here. It's in his eyes mostly, a strange and unknown hunger, like an animal gone wild. And it ignites something in you, shoots pleasure straight down your loins and has your breath hitching.
No one, no one has ever looked at you like that, like he is close to dashing over the desk and swallowing you whole, eating you up and ripping you apart with razor-sharp teeth.
Your blouse follows next, as you pop open the first few buttons, pulling the thin fabric out of your short tweed skirt. It flows to the ground shortly after, leaves you in your bra, skirt, and heels. Tangerine does not give you as much as a few seconds to accommodate to being partially exposed to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
"Skirt's next, darlin'."
You inhale audibly through your lips and Tangerine chuckles quietly at that as you unhook the clasp on your skirt, slooowly pulling down the zipper at the side. You feel ridiculous, like a very bad caricature of a housewife stripping for her husband. It's nothing like you imagined it to be, fingers buried deep inside of you, imagining your husband to be someone else, someone prettier, someone who valued you - someone who you'd love to get dirty for. You don't feel sexy or tempting - but to him you certainly do look the part, the way your body quivers and shakes, all shy by avoiding his gaze.
The expensive tweed falls to the floor and you step out of the fabric of your clothing, pooling around your feet. You gulp, carefully looking up at him. You wonder if he likes what he sees, if it's enough for him to spare your life, to --
Tangerine's heart skips a beat, a sharp noise erupting in his ears. The lingerie you are wearing, a stunning pale-pink lace set, hugs your curves nicely and leaves nothing to the imagination - with the way your nipples poke through the bra, the string cupping your cunt, dipping a little into the cleft of your folds.
He can also see the damp patch on your lacey string and it makes his dick rock-hard, pressing against his slacks. He lifts an eyebrow, as he looks at you. "Who would've thought", and you blush, swallowing, "He married a common whore."
The humiliation burns on your cheeks, turns them red and your mouth goes dry, but there's also fresh wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Oh, you are fucked.
He reads you like an opened book, watches you shifting uncomfortably. "Say it", he whispers softly.
You swallow, licking your lips, before replying quietly: "I am a common whore - Daddy."
"That you are, darlin', aren't ya", Tangerine grins, "Get that bra off, show me what ya got."
You reach back and unclasp the soft lace, pulling the strings over your shoulders and down your arms, carelessly throwing the fabric to the side. Tangerine tilts his head a little, his eyes assessing your tits. He seems satisfied, waves his revolver at you.
"Touch yourself, I wanna see those pretty tits movin'", swallowing, your hands come up, damp with cold sweat and cup your tits, bouncing and squeezing them a little, pressing them together. You do not dare looking at him, gaze focussed on the desk instead, hands brushing over your breasts.
You just started rolling your left nipple between your index finger and thumb, gasping quietly, the slight pain and pleasure running straight between your legs as he suddenly moves. You flinch, arms immediately clutching around your exposed chest while he gets up, deliberately strolls over to you.
Maybe he is not satisfied, he surely isn't, it must've been too little, not enough he's gonna kill you, kill you, kill you --
"Such perfect fuckin' tits", he weighs his revolver in his hands, the metal of it clinking against his rings, and closes in on you. "Have ya been touched often?", the barrel of the gun hooks underneath your chin and your lift your head with it obediently, looking up at him. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your eyes big and teary again. You don't think he's one to slip on the trigger but it still has anxiety crawling up your spine - don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me --
"Answer me, ya stupid twat."
You just wish he would take that fucking gun away from your face.
"N-no", you answer truthfully. The last time you had sex was literal ages ago, in your time at Harvard. Since your parents had married you off you haven't been touched by another fucking human being, assured so by the constant observation of your husband's men. He was allowed to cheat, but God forbid you had some fun. So, you had retreated to fucking yourself, lacking any physical contact, making every single time you masturbated feel shallow and incomplete. Tangerine watches the way your face changes as you reminisce.
"Oh, ya poor thing", he coos, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you look up at him, "Bet that felt horrible, didn't it?"
And you nod, his thumb caressing your cheek and you get a first good look at him. He is really pretty. The blood looks good on him, bright red in a glooming contrast to his blue eyes. Your head swims with it a little. "How did that make ya feel, eh?"
"Lonely", you croak, before you can stop yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks, pooling between his fingers and rings.
He hums in his throat. "Bet it did", something dances across his eyes, "D'ya want someone to take care of ya? D'ya want to stop feeling so bloody lonely all the time?"
The truth behind his words runs you over like a freight train, barely leaves you wondering with how he got that about you so fast, brain erupting in a static noise.
You do. You feel lonely, locked up in a golden cage of money and bodyguards, with no one opening its door to spend some time with the little bird inside.
"Y-yeah", you whisper, blinking away the tears.
"Wanna know something, love?", and you nod, carefully, not to spook him into shooting, "I could be that person. How's that sound, eh? I could keep ya safe -"
Tangerine's hand leaves your cheek and touches your waist instead, a feather-light touch that has goosebumps spreading all over your body.
"I could touch ya -", his hand sprawls over your lower back, "'N keep you happy, get ya lots'n lots of pretty, sparkly things."
Your breath hitches, brain slowly growing mushy because - because, despite the gun underneath your chin, that does sound heavenly. It sounds easy. Painless. Better. A little exciting even.
"C'mon, how's that sound?", he coos, hand running over your back, to your side again, thumb toying with the hem of your string.
"Sounds so good, Daddy", you sigh, images of a new life, a different life flashing by.
"Mh, I know it does. I could take you with me, make ya mine. You'd love that, wouldn't ya?", his fingers dance over your abdomen, dipping lower and between your legs. His thumb presses down on the damp patch, rubs over your clit, his bracelet rustling.
And it is like your brain has completely given up, surrendering yourself to this very handsome man. But you just can't since - "I-I am married", you croak, a little helplessly, like you don't quite know what to make out of that either.
He does, anger flickering behind his eyes like someone pulled a lighter out and ignited his gaze.
Tangerine growls, the barrel of his revolver pressing against your temple roughly, thumb rubbing smaller circles over your clit through your dampened string, "You belong to me now, d'ya understand? There's nothing he can do about it, y'hear me?"
"Y-yes Daddy, I do", you whine, eyelids fluttering and small tears running down your cheeks.
"Oh, stop fuckin' crying - I can feel how wet ya little cunt's gotten, fuckin' slut", and you blink up at him, a small gasp escaping your mouth as your gazes meet through teary eyes.
You just look so fucking hot to him. Adrenaline from his kill still pumps through his veins and it makes him so so mad, his ears ringing. He feels like he is about to fucking burst and your tears only spurr him on, making something in his stomach growl, stretching its claws out.
Tangerine is too far gone already, everything tinted red red red and he just wants to lash at you, bury his teeth in your throat and end your life like that, bury his dick deep inside of you and feel you twitch around him while blood spurts from your open wound, flows from your mouth. He wants.
But you are also so very very pretty to him, tears running down your cheeks, lips plush and quivering a little and nipples hard like glass, testing his patience with the way they poke out at him.
"Or actually, don't", his lips curl up into a cold smile, "I like to see you cry, hm? Y'real pretty like this."
And you sob heavily, his words making your head swim. Pretty pretty pretty - when was the last time someone called you pretty?
"Oh, darlin'", Tangerine whispers, gun grazing your temple, thumb rubbing small and hard circles on your clit, "Don't be hurt by Daddy, hm? I don't mean to hurt ya, now do I?"
"N-no", you shake your head a little, "Di-didn't hurt m-me."
"Mhm, you are such a good girl, aren't ya? Never hurt by your new Daddy, eh?"
You shake your head again but this time, his face grows stern. "Ah ah ah, words, love. Use your words."
"N-no, y-you could never hurt me."
"Yeah, I couldn't, how could I? I can say anything to you, call you whatever I like and you would never be hurt, would ya?"
And you do not want him to be angry, do not want him to think that he could hurt you - so that he doesn't accidentally slip and does just that - and you notice that fresh tears stream down your cheeks.
"I-I wouldn't, no", you blink away the tears and Tangerine smiles at you.
"That's right. I can call you whatever I like", his thumb speeds up and you moan sweetly, "What d'ya think? Doesn't slut fit you well?"
He says it with such adoration that you cannot help but sigh, nodding. "Y-yeah, it does", you reply quietly, ready to wear it with pride.
"Alright then, slut - take that sorry excuse of a panty off."
You follow his command, shaking fingers hooking underneath the hem of your string, pulling it down slowly.
"Faster, you dumb fuckin' slut."
"Uh-huh", you mumble, nodding, and hastily shoving your string down your legs until it falls down and pools at your feet - a pretty pink on a bright fur carpet. Now, with being fully naked, you feel incredibly vulnerable.
You still wonder if he really won't hurt you. You decide that if you stick by rules, he most likely won't.
Tangerine slowly walks around you, like a predator surrounding its prey, then comes to a halt behind you. The barrel of his revolver presses against the nape of your neck and then glides over your body - down down down - cold metal against warm skin, and then he reaches around your waist. The gun grazes your abdomen and slips between your legs, barrel running cooly through your folds. And you can't hold back the moan crawling up your throat, parting your lips, has you inhaling sharply.
"Yeah, that's more like it, innit?", he rubs the cold metal along your folds, "I can fuckin' smell how wet your cunt is."
And you can hear it, too - the way your pussy squelches obscenely around the barrel, wetness dripping down your thighs. Your knees buckle as the metal rubs along your clit, has you moaning shyly.
Tangerine wraps one arm around you, holds you upright with your back pressed flush against his chest and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, hotly through his slacks.
"Lift your leg, love", he whispers, moustache brushing over the shell of your ear and you comply like you are a fucking robot, and his large hand wraps around the back of your knee, holds your leg up. You mewl as the gun wanders further, barrel brushing against your hole and then dips in with barely any effort, so so slick by your juices and your breath hitches, whole body trembling as the cold metal enters you.
"O-oh", you gasp dumbly, your body sacking back against him. The barrel isn't too big, barely larger than a finger, and rather short but it still feels - good? Tangerine starts to fuck you with it slowly, moves the gun in and out of you and your head swims with the thought, that he could just pull the trigger and blow your lights out, could leave you here bleeding to death.
Your legs start to shake, anxiety and lust mingling dangerously, and in a desperate attempt for any leverage your hand shoots up, reaches back and finds the back of his neck, clutches onto it, fists the pristine white banker's collar of his shirt.
"Yeah, that feels fuckin' good, dunnit?"
"Uh-huh", you breathe, the cold metal pumping in and out of you has lust pooling your stomach and you look down to where his tattooed arm wraps around your waist, where the black sparrow and the golden bracelet vanish along your pussy - watching the way you can see the grip and trigger moving against your folds.
You should be scared, afraid of him and afraid of the gun fucking into you - but you just aren't. Lust washes over your brain, makes everything go just a little hazy, wraps you in cotton candy - hot and syrupy, sweet.
"My god - shit", you breathe, your cunt aching to be touched and you wish for the barrel to just be a bit longer, able to fuck you properly, reach the parts only his cock could - the one that's pressing against your ass hotly, pulsing through his slacks. Instead, you roll your hips once, best you can with his iron grip on your thigh, meeting the thrusts of his gun.
It has you whining, the way the cold metal presses against your hot and slick skin, throwing your head back, resting on his shoulder. Tangerine moves in, like a hungry animal, lips and stache brushing over your exposed shoulder, tickling the naked skin while his eyes wander down your body - taking in your desperate thrusts, bouncing tits and hard nipples. You are fucking hot, maybe the hottest thing he has seen in a while, hotter than the tarts he fucks sometimes.
You seem clean - innocent and virginal and it nearly makes him bust a nut thinking about you: on all fours crawling towards him, sucking his cock until your throat bruises and you are a crying mess, tied to the bedposts taking him like a good fucking personal sex doll would. He groans against your skin, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your leg.
The sound has you vibrating. It leaves you wanting, wanting to feel more, to feel full; to hear more of him, more of where that came from. You can't hold yourself back. "D-daddy", you moan, the feeling of his hard dick pressing against you and the warmth that his firm chest radiates leaving you a little dizzy, "N-need your cock."
Tangerine chuckles against your shoulders. "Oh, now you're wantin' something, eh? What about me, love? What about our little deal?"
"'S for y-you, too", you whine helplessly.
"Oh no no no", he sounds genuinely amused, presses the gun snugly against your aching cunt and your legs tremble, "Don't ya try to get me all soft 'n shit, hm? You'll lose, love, you'll lose."
His tongue darts out, licks a fat stripe over your neck, testing your sweat mingling with your expensive perfume. It takes all his willpower not bury his teeth into your soft flesh until he draws blood and life fades from your eyes.
"N-need m-more", you gasp, hole clenching around the short barrel, cunt needy and aching and squirting against his fingers and the gun in anticipation.
"Well, then -- Why don't ya show me how you got yourself off all those years, hm? Show me how to work that sweet cunt of yours", his lips brush over the nape of your neck and your knees buckle at the soft touch, "Show Daddy how to do it."
Tangerine pulls the gun out of you and you gasp, eyelids fluttering, hole clenching around nothing at the loss, wanting the friction back and he slowly puts your leg back down. His hand brushes up your thigh and waist, rests on your shoulder, presses down a little. And you turn to puddy in his hands, knees giving in and you sink down, landing on your knees with a soft thud.
The fur feels soft around your knees and you lay your head back obediently, looking up at him through hazy eyes. You can see him swallowing, licking his lips. His revolver drips with your juices.
His hand grabs your chin, slight pressure on your throat and then he moves in, rubs his crotch over the back of your head. You can feel his hard, big dick against your skull and you can't help your mind from wandering there, wondering how might he taste.
"Feel that? That's what ya fuckin' slutty behaviour does t'Daddy", he bows down, grins at you and then, without warning, spits.
You flinch as his saliva hits your face, lands across your forehead and you cheeks. His thumb spreads it out, rubs it into your skin and you moan, humiliation pooling in your stomach and shooting down between your legs.
Tangerine chuckles, straightens back up and the hand leaves your face, your throat. "Spread ya legs, I wanna see what's gonna be mine."
You comply, sitting down on your ass and planting your feet in front of you, heels digging into the soft fur. He strolls around you, makes is way back to the desk.
"'N you fuckin' whore better put on a fuckin' good show for me, too", he growls, "It's what ya want, innit? Be a good girl f'me?"
It kind of is. The part of your brain that just doesn't want to die is oddly silent. There is something else, something that buries its claws deep deep in your mind and tears and tears and tears until everything is a little mushy and your brain complies - good girl good girl good girl.
Tangerine leans against the table, crosses his feet and places his hands on the edges, gun dangling from his slender fingers. "C'mon love, ya better don't wanna keep me waiting."
You look down at yourself and a surprised gasp leaves you mouth - you are incredibly wet, thighs sticky with your own juices. You run your fingers through your folds in awe, feeling your own slick, and you moan as you brush by your clit. You need more, body and cunt aching for it and your index finger starts to rub over your clit.
Squelching sounds erupt between your legs and you mewl at the sensation, your cunt so responsive, hole fluttering and your free hand darts out, grabs the fur beneath you.
"Such a pretty fuckin' cunt ya got", and your gaze darts up at him, stomach doing a funny little flip as your eyes meet his, breath hitching in your throat.
Tangerine licks his lips, gestures with his gun. "Rub faster, I wanna hear more of ya sweet moans, slut."
You comply immediately, rubbing your clit faster and you do moan for him, gasping with the pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your nerves. You throw your head back, not waiting for his next instruction, adding a second finger, rubbing large and quick circles around your clit, hips bucking and rolling against them, heightening the sensation.
Arching your back you moan and gasp, lust swallowing you whole and taking over your brain - eradicating anything and everything despite the need to feel more more more.
"C'mon, I know you wan'it, push one in and finger yourself", and your other hand flies to your wanton pussy; index finger briefly, impatiently circling your hole before eagerly dipping in, burying itself deep in one quick thrust. You hiss, quickly exchanged by a sweet gasp as you bottom your finger out.
You start to move it in and out of you, rubbing it along your walls and you can't help but sink onto your back, mewling as it enters you deeper, slips back in more easily. You feel so so dirty, naked in nothing but your jewellery and heels with his spit across your face, but you have never felt better either.
"O-one more, please", you beg, "Please, let me have one more."
Don't you just beg so prettily? He wonders if you will beg like that when he will shove a plug up your ass and fuck your throat, stuffing your cunt with a vibrator. He wonders if you will ask for another one to fuck your ass.
Oh, he will ruin you alright. "Since you ask so nicely", he coos, "Go ahead, slut. Whatever ya need."
Pushing a second finger in, the circles you rub on your clit become smaller and faster. You moan in rhythm with your fingers thrusting into you, curling them a little. Your legs go a little limp, knees darting away from each other, giving him an even better view of your assault on your pussy, the way your slick spreads up to your thighs. Your cunt gushes around your fingers as you force them in deeper, squirts against your hand.
Tangerine watches you coming apart smugly, weighs his revolver in his hands. Who would've thought a simple gun was enough to get you to buckle, give in and surrender yourself to him?
You are his now, he will never let you got. He will keep you and train you and make you needy and dumb for no one else but him.
The thought nearly makes his chest burst with the power trip it sends him on, and he spreads his legs a little, feels his hard cock pressing against his slacks. He can't fucking wait to get in that sweet sweet cunt of yours - show you how a real man fucks his wife, fucks what belongs to him. Tangerine can see, even from where he is standing, that you are fucking tight - the way your hole stretches around your delicate fingers has him licking his lips.
He can't fucking wait to claim you.
"Yeah, I can see he never fucked you properly", Tangerine rasps, shakes his head in silent disapproval as you mewl, arching your back, "I'd take care of you, y'know? Y'want that, don't ya?"
You nod nod nod, moaning as your fingers brush over your walls, stretching you out as you scissor yourself open - thinking about how good his huge fucking dick would feel inside of you instead - your hole fluttering around your digits.
"Bet ya do, lil' slut. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya, ya'd never ever have to think again. Jus' lemme do the thinking."
"Shit, please, yes", you moan, rocking down on your fingers, pushing a third one in. You are so so full, juices squelching around your hole and wetting your hand and the fur underneath you but it's not enough. You start to pump the in and out of you quicker, deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you just right.
"Yeah, I'd tell you exactly what to do", Tangerine hums, "I'd be coming home and tell my little slut to bend over the fuckin' kitchen table, stuff her tight 'n needy holes, 'n what would she say?"
"I-I'd thank y-you", you nearly cry out, your whole body feeling light and shuddering at the thought.
"Mhm, atta girl - and if I put ya pretty throat on a leash? Drag ya through the house and stuff ya full of toys? What would ya say to Daddy?"
"T-thank you, Daddy", you huff, chest heaving with your rapidly approaching orgasm, legs tensing up and toes curling.
"And what would ya say when I let ya cum, slut?"
"Thank you!", you sob, the two fingers on your clit rubbing mercilessly, your other hand fucking you hard and fast.
"That's a good girl. Lemme hear it then, cum you fuckin' whore."
Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, your cunt pushing your fingers out as you convulse around them - a high pitched chant Thank you thank you thank you falling from your lips. Your arms fall to the side uselessly as you ride your orgasm out, wave after wave of warm squirt wetting the fur, as you moan and roll your hips, leaving you breathless.
Your eyes flutter open as you hear footsteps, see him approaching. He is still holding his revolver, the outline of where his large cock is pressing angrily against his expensive trousers.
"Too sad your husband couldn't just see that, eh?", there is genuine joy marking Tangerine's features, making his bright eyes gleam.
Oh shit - that reminds you of something.
"W-where is he?", you croak, legs still shaking with your recent orgasm, body sinking into the fur.
"Oh, love", he seems to smile at you, but his eyes don't join in on his lips tilting up, "He's right 'ere, ain't he?"
He points his revolver away from you, to the side and your eyes warily follow the movement. There is nothing there except the locked closet and --
And a dark pool of something on the ground, a trail of it slooowly creeping your way over the polished floor boards. It looks like-
You stretch your arm out, fingers darting out and the index finger dipping into the liquid. It's still warm and sticky.
And red. It does not take a genius to get what it is.
Tangerine licks his lips as he watches you, how realization creeps in, changes your facial expression. You look horrified and his dick twitches at the sight.
He closes in on you, bows down over your exposed body and grabs your hand roughly, pulls it in. "Would'ya mind cleaning that up f'me, love?", and your eyelids flutter and you do, like you are on autopilot, licking your dead husband's blood from your finger.
"Mhm", Tangerine hums and you gag a little around the metallic taste, which makes his face light up. He pulls his finger from your mouth, unbuckles his belt instead. "I think, I really might just keep ya."
"Y-you said you'd let me go", you gasp as his hand dips between your legs.
"Well, love - change of plans, innit?"
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iliketangerines · 1 month
Note
I love your writing so much- like literally the first thing I do in the mornings is check if you’ve posted 🩵
Also here to request- I had an idea of maybe the Earthrealm boys ((like liu kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny, Kenshi, Tomas, bi-han, and kuai)) all go to a hot springs and invite reader ((it can be male or female)) and they all thought it would going to be segregated by gender but it’s actually like all genders bathe together in the springs- so it’s just a bunch of horny ass guys and reader who’s just a small petite person ((with a busty chest and thick ass thighs 😍))
what i want
a/n: mmmmm, save me earthrealm defenders, save me, save me earthrealm defenders
pairing: liu kang, raiden, kung lao, johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, bi han, kuai liang, tomas x gn!reader
warnings: nsfw (MDNI), breeding kink, nipple play, pregnancy kink, degradation kink, blowjobs, slight bondage, electrostim, overstimulation
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the Earthrealm champions settled into the springs, groaning as the warmth enveloped their muscles and surrounded their senses
Kung Lao and Johnny were in the corner talking about something ridiculous, and Kenshi shoots them a glare for splashing the water as Raiden watches on in amusement
Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han sat in the other corner, simply basking in the heat and taking a break having to lead the Lin Kuei
Liu Kang sat alone as he observed his champions, and he sighed as he sunk a little further into the water, closing his eyes and humming as he relaxed
none of them had any duties for the day and had decided to pamper themselves for the time being, and it was proving a wonderful decision
Liu Kang opens his eyes at the sound of someone entering the hotspring, and he turns around to find you wrapped in a white towel
the hot springs go quiet as you enter and give out an apology about how you couldn’t find the location and that you got turned around
you slip off your towel and fold it neatly before stepping into the springs, giving them a view of your plush chest and toned legs
your stomach slightly bulges out, and Liu Kang wants to do nothing more than grip onto the soft flesh and pepper kisses onto it
the god smiles as you settle in the water right next to him, and he feels a flush creep up on his face when you let out an appreciative moan at the heat
you talk Liu Kang’s ear off about something, but he can’t really hear you, not with the way he can still see your chest and legs submerged in the water
and your skin is unmarked, only a few minor scars littering here and there as a testament to your training, and Liu Kang wants to kiss and suck hickeys into your skin
he wants to see your skin marked in his bitemarks and know that he was the one who did that
he wants to grab onto your hips and dig his fingertips in to see bruises bloom and wants you to know that he had put them there
he can imagine how you’d sound, high-pitched and whiny as you beg him to cum, and Liu Kang hopes that the red flush on his body can be passed as the hot springs
in the corner, Kung Lao and Johnny look over at you and quiet their conversation to admire your body and all its toned muscle
your neck is bare and soft, and they want to sink their teeth into the flesh and show to the world that you are spoken for
your legs are plush and toned, and Johnny wants nothing more than to have them squeezed around his head
he wants to taste you, please you, watch you squirm as your hand grips into his hair, and you let out pitiful whines as your hips buck into his face
Kung Lao wants to grab your chest, pinch and roll the nipples between his fingers and listen to you yelp as he nips at your chest and sucks on your chest
he wants to fuck you, breed you with his heirs and watch your stomach round out
he wants to watch the cum leak out of your abused hole and them push it back in with his fingers as you whine from the overstimulation
Kenshi and Raiden can’t help themselves from having their eyes roam over you as well
Raiden wants to have you on top of him, riding him as he holds onto your waist and bounces you on his thick cock
he thinks you’d look so pretty all  fucked-out and drooling as you lose your senses when he shocks your most sensitive parts with electricity
he wants to have you desperate for him as you blabber out incoherent nonsense as he fucks up into you and teases you with his fingers
Kenshi bites his lip as he imagines how you’d look on your knees, plush lips wrapped around his cock as you bob your head up and down
he’d grip onto your hair and move you up and down when you get too slow, and he wants to push your face down until your nose buries into his pelvis
he wants to watch tears stream down your face as you gag and moan around his cock, and he wants to fuck into your face and watch your eyes go glassy
you’d swallow his come like a good whore, and he’d drag you up and kiss you as he teases you with your fingers
Bi Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas sit in the corner and watch Liu Kang in jealousy as you talk to Liu Kang about some new project you’re working on
Bi Han wants to drag you away from the god and sit you in his lap, hook your legs over his and spread you so that he can show everyone how he fucks you well
he wants to wrap a hand around your throat and use his other to pinch and tease your nipples
you’d be such a desperate whore, begging to cum as he denies you your release over and over again
he’d cum inside of you over and over again, using you as a cumdump, until there’s a slight bump in your stomach
he’d keep you plugged up with his cum until it takes, and he wants to see you round with his child as he fucks into you
Bi Han think your chest would look pretty all swollen with milk, and he wants to see the milk pearl on your nipples and suck on them as you moan in pleasure
Kuai Liang is thinking no better than Bi Han
he wants to drag you out of of the hotsprings and have you on your knees and tie your hands behind your back as he fucks into you
he'd smack your ass and watch it redden underneath his large hand, and you’d look so pretty drooling and crying as he fucks you
you’d sound so pretty as you cum over and over again, whining that you can’t cum anymore, that it’s too much, but he’d keep fucking you, telling you that pretty little sluts don’t get to decide whether or not they get to cum or not
Tomas squirms in his spot, and he imagines kissing along your scars, worshiping you and your body as you whine and moan for him to do more
he wants to please you, nip at your soft plush thighs and listen to you yelp and have you bury your fingers in his hair
he’d fuck into you slow and deep, making sure to hit all the deepest parts of you as he lavishes you with kisses
he wants to have you fucked-out and cockdrunk as he watches you whine and beg for him to go faster, to please make you cum
he’d give in, but only after he’s had his fun teasing you with his slow thrusts, cock stretching you out deliciously
all of them are snapped out of their stupors when a ringing echoes through the air, and you jump out of the water and grab onto your phone
you answer the call, and the defenders can only stare as the water droplets trail down your soft skin, down your chest, down in between your legs
you clumsily wrap a towel around you with one hand as you wave goodbye to them and thank them for inviting you before walking away
none of them can relax once you’ve left
all they want to do is fuck you
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lawqual1ty · 5 months
Text
Just my luck (Trafalgar Law x Gn! Reader)
This idea has been in the back of my head for a while and I decided to share it! Anyway hope you enjoy
Pov: you accidentally enter at a wrong time
Warning: sort of nsfw? Mention of medical stuff for a bit, late night studies, cursing And that's mainly it? If you feel uncomfortable please stop reading!
"What the fuck is this...?" You cursed under your breath, clearly confused at the text you were looking at.
You had been awake for what felt like forever, you couldn't really tell the time thanks to the fact you were under water in the Polar Tang... So time was no longer really a concept, but if your tiredness was anything to go by it was definitely night time.
You sighed deeply as you looked at the medicine book on your table, you had been trying your best to learn more medical topics to help your captain and crewmates out... But everyone knows medicine isn't an easy topic, so you were definitely struggling. Your brain hurt, it was as if nothing had stuck to you... It was concerning.
"Should I...?"
An idea spurred in your brain, maybe you could ask for someone's aid... After all they were all professionals... The problem is well, they were fast asleep... Except for one...
You quickly stood up from your chair with book in hand as a certain dark haired male with eyebags appeared in your brain... Bit as quickly as you stood up you quickly froze...
Was it really a good idea bothering him? He usually was quite moody and you didn't want to risk it
"oh fuck it... I can't waste more brain cells..."
You finally made up your mind as you walked through the halls with a confident step
You slowly made your way through the cold and quiet halls of the Polar Tang, hugging the medicine book as you tried your best to keep calm, the further you walked through the more you started to hear a strange noise, like a harsh breathing... You shrugged it off as the idea of Shachi snoring.
You took a quick look at the book you held as you made a turn to where Law's personal room was hoping he was there still awake.
And trust me... He was...
You knocked softly at the door before opening it softly "Hey captain do you think you can help--"
You cut yourself short at the sight in front of you... Your eyes widened as you took in what was in front of you, a bright blush crawling its way up to your cheeks.
He was naked from the waist down, his dick on his hand as he sat on the bed, he was breathing heavily as he played with himself, his dick pretty hard as it swayed in between his inked fingers
"Ah... Ah! Y/N-ya~!"
With that loud moan he reached his climax... His words made you snap back to reality as you quickly hid behind the wall next to the entrance, covering your mouth with your hands, trying not to let out any noise and praying to Roger that he had not noticed that you just saw how he jerked off to you...
All hope was shut off as you heard a soft chuckle coming from Law's room, it made you shiver
"I know you heard me Y/N-ya~"
You cursed in your mind, your heart beating rapidly as you tried to make yourself invisible
"You're insufferable... Room"
With the sound of his husky voice you suddenly notice a blue glow spreading across the entirety of your sight... There was no way you were escaping this now...
"Shambles..."
Before you could blink you found yourself inside Law's room, your legs surrounding Law's thighs as you sat on his lap. You let out a soft moan as you felt his dick stroke you... The thin fabric of your pajamas not offering much protection against his veiny and now very hard dick, he smirked at your reaction
"You really thought you could escape from me~?"
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inklore · 2 years
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of the essence
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premise: working alongside tangerine to retrieve something as minuscule as a briefcase should be easy–would–have been easy if there wasn’t history between the two of you and you weren’t at each others necks or annoyed senseless by his need to be right, or your need to have him inside of you.
pairing: tangerine x f!assassin!reader
word count: 2.9k
warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected sex, creampie, enemies who are partners who aren’t really enemies but are definitely lovers, tangerine has a big dick this is canon, cocky behavior, banter, public sex (unrealistic dicking in those tight ass train seats), dirty talk, pet names, spanking, mentions of violence and death.
etc: ya girl has booked a one way ticket on the tangerine slut train! sorry i’m late to the ride but i’m here now and i hope you enjoy this!
i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!
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It was foolish of you to think that there would be any civility between the two of you, that you could actually do this job in peace without him getting on your nerves or you grating at his. “It’s just a quick grab and go, no big deal” your boss had said, and as it always goes that was too good to be true.
“Tangerine will also be there..” she had trailed off after you had accepted, after you had put your eggs into one basket and already started with a game plan; upon hearing the rest of her words you were smashing said eggs with the bottom of your boot in irritation. 
The want—need—to deny the job. To tell her to pick someone else because the thought of being near said fruit with a beautiful mustache was not only frustratingly distracting, but the two of you couldn't stand each other.
Not after too many nights spent in tangled sheets and the constant head butting and one-upping the two of you always did—putting your team at risk all because the two of you refused to agree on anything. 
But you needed the work, sitting idle for too long made you overthink, made your skin crawl and impulsiveness kick in to the point of destructive behavior. 
So as amazing as saying no to this job sounded, you couldn’t afford it. 
Thus how you’ve ended up here; in a silent train car across from the one person you’d kill not see again. Trying not to put your nails into his eye sockets from how he’s looking at you and the snarky comments that never seem to end, flowing like an overbearing stream from his mouth.
The more he talked the more your blood boiled. The more your eyes stared at his mouth. The more you thought of events from the past that needed to stay there. Not bombard your brainstem with ideas that had no business being there at a time like this; thoughts that make you think ‘what's the worst that can happen?’
This. This is the worst that can happen. 
“Where’s the new bloke?” Tangerine’s head turns to the side, a ghost of a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth. The roll of your eyes making that annoying expression spread to an even more annoying grin. 
“Couldn’t cut it.” You say passively, grip the book in your hand that you pathetically thought you’d actually be able to read—to be distracted by. 
He hums, fingers tapping on the armrest of his seat. 
“Couldn’t keep up with ya?” 
“Can anyone?”
“Not without effort,” his eyes move in a sweeping motion from your feet to your face. Slow. agonizing to your insides. Annoying. “That’s for certain.” 
“Thanks.” You scowl, grumbling under your breath. Bring the book up to your face, try to read any of the words on the page without focus. 
“I meant no disrespect.” 
“That’s shocking, feeling under the weather today?”
An airy chuckle leaves his lungs and goes straight to the bottom of your stomach. You try to ignore how you can feel him shift in his seat. How you know he’s pulling at his navy suit, making himself more comfortable. Manspreading his legs to the point where there’s no more room between your knees and his. One of his lengthy legs pressed into your inner thigh. 
You should have sat in Lemon’s seat when he got up. 
Fuck. 
“Still can’t take a compliment I see.” 
“Still don’t know what a compliment actually is, I see.” You mock, can feel the edge of the paperback digging into your palm to the point of one little bump of the train and you know a paper cut is bound to happen. The bouncing of one of your legs starts, the deep shallow breaths, all signs of your irritation getting ready to bring itself to the forefront. Cause a scene that needed to be avoided right now. 
“It was a compliment.” 
“A backhanded one.” 
You know he’s the one rolling his eyes now by the puff of frustrated air he lets out from behind the book. 
And maybe most of this irritation was coming from the fact that he was right. Your last partner was a fool. An incompetent one. Where, yes Tangerine was a fool, more often than not, but he was at least competent and good at his job. The partner you had been assigned didn’t know the difference between a glock and a rifle, an ass from its cheek—he was the definition of new blood, sour blood, a trainee without a clue which is how he ended up in a shallow grave. A welcome blessing to you when a bullet pierced through his chest cavity. 
But not everyone was Tangerine. 
The two of you may not play nicely while working together but he was damn good at his job and the two of you always got the job done and on time. Even if Lemon screamed at the two of you to stop bickering for half of it. 
The reasons why the two of you shouldn’t work together was better than you getting saddled with another idiot. 
Annoyance and attraction aside, Tangerine was damn good at his job—too good most times and you’d choose this back and forth over the latter always. Because even through his cocky-knowing-remarks and that annoying raise of his brows he always did that sparked some fuel in your lower belly when the two of you would bicker over right wrong, left right, up down; he had your back, you could trust him not to put a bullet in it or get himself killed. 
“Were you the one who shot a bullet in that poor bloke's heart?” The tip of his pointer presses itself into the top crease of your book, pulling it down to reveal his grin. “You can be candid with me,” his lips twitch cockily. “I won’t tell a soul if you got a little homesick for me and had to do it to reunite us, promise.”
You flick his hand away, “as if.” Your mouth falling open to make a show of your gag of disgust, “it would have been a justice for me to put him out of his misery. But now I’m wishing the bullet had changed directory and hit me instead. I’m the one who really needs to be put out of their misery.”
“Oh,” he clicks his tongue. Lips turning down into a frown, “you’ve missed me. You can’t deny it.”
“Deny.”
“You wouldn’t have taken the job if you didn’t.”
“I needed the money. Eating is a wonderful thing.”
“So is our time spent together.” Just as the words slip out you can feel his knee press further into your thigh. See his back slink just a little lower into his seat as he does so. Eyes cast down to where the heat from his knee and your thigh is causing your nerves to clench up—to go haywire. 
“It’s a waste of time.”
“I’d have to disagree.”
“Would think there was something wrong if you didn’t.”
Before you can pretend to read the next sentence from your book, before you realize he’s reaching out for it, he snatches it from your grip and tosses it in the seat next to him with ease—leisure—as he scoots forward, his knee following suit and pressing itself at your covered center. The intake of breath that fills your lungs at the swift friction as he does so frustrates you for a different, more dangerous, reason. 
The back of his palm wrapping itself around the back of your neck to bring you forward with him, nose to nose. Your scowl deep and threatening. 
“From what I remember correctly, you didn’t think it was a waste of time to have my cock inside of you the last time we found ourselves partnered up.” 
“Things change. I got smarter.” 
“Oh you’re already smart, love. We know it’s not that.”
“Fuck off.” You try to pull yourself from his hold but the more you tug the tighter his grip becomes, and the more your insides melt and make your underwear slick. 
“As much as I love this little game of ours, time is of the essence. I’d love to have you riled up and holding a knife to my throat but we’re on a tight schedule.” With more added pressure he has your lips centimeters from his, the warm puffs from his breath and deep rumble of his accent making your mouth buzz and draw in like a moth to a flame.
Except this flame is annoyingly addicting—to his mouth and that annoying knockoff pornstache above it, that golden chain that makes your mouth water at the remembrance of it dangling over your face when his weight is on top of yours—and always leaves you in a bigger mess than you started with.
But it’s a flame you clearly aren’t strong enough to turn from. 
Because when he says, “We have about thirty minutes before Lemon comes back, before the train stops and people fill the car. So stop being a brat and take what we both know you want.” Your insides go from melting to liquid lava that seeps down to your core and singes your pussy until it’s throbbing—and denying the reality of it would be as idiotic as what you do next: 
Wasting no time in climbing into Tangerine’s lap, the huffs of frustration and growls mixing together as your mouths come together and teeth sink into lips, bites turn into tears, and nails dig into clothes until you can only feel skin underneath the beds of them. 
His mouth is all over your neck—fingers having already torn at the button up and tossed it to the dirty floor, your bra torn and beside it—tongue running along your collarbone to the column of sensitive flesh that he sinks his teeth into. The friction of his mustache leaves a burning trail along the way. Making your head fall back and breasts press to his chest. 
His fingers make quick work of the mechanics of your jeans, helping you maneuver out of them in a way that takes little effort and keeps you pressed to him; keeps your fingers in his hair tugging and pulling, keeps you rocking against his hardness that presses full and thick against his slacks. His mouth still on your skin, refusing to let go. 
When his pointer loops itself into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side, his knuckle pushing into your wet folds and moving along your aching clit, a hum of approval is kissed against your chest. 
Tangerine’s chin digging into the top of your breast as he looks up at you with a smirk that only makes you whimper now, “knew you missed me.” 
“Shut up.” You want it to sound meaner, argumentative, but it slips out attached to a moan as his knuckle presses circles against your clit. Your legs shaking around him. Nails digging into his scalp. “If I admit it will you fuck me already?”
“You know I’ll give you anything you want, you need only ask, love.” The grin on his lips before he presses them to yours in a rough kiss of passion, and lust that burns so deep you don’t remember where or how it began; makes something ethereal swoop in your stomach. Makes your fingers move faster than lightning to unbutton his slacks, his large arm holding your back tightly as he lifts up to pull himself out. 
To have his cock on full display and in his palm. His large hand looking small compared to the thickness of length, of how heavy he looks and feels. A low groan slipping from his parted lips, “love when you watch me. But-”
“Time is of the essence.” You repeat his earlier words, don’t think twice in moving his hand away and grabbing his warm shaft in yours. Lining it up at your entrance and sinking down on—too fast, too quick—his thickness opening you with a burning stretch that has you swallowing down a hiss, eyes clenched, body bowing forward, head pressed against his. 
A simultaneous “fuck” leaving the both of you. 
“Missed you.” You breathe, give yourself a minute to acquaint yourself with his size again. To remember how it feels to be so full. 
“Would think there was something wrong if you didn’t.” He repeats you this time, your matching smirks molded together by lips and tongue as he takes your mouth. Kissing you like he fucking invited the act. 
And then you’re moving, your hips gyrating back and forth as Tangerine’s palms at your ass guide you. A too slow of a pace set by him wanting to savor the moment, but only makes you want him more. The slow gyrate soon turns into you bouncing on his cock, your cunt making an obnoxiously wet squelch each time you drag it up and down his length. 
The train car filling with sounds of skin, breaths, and moans as you ride him. As he slaps your ass, as he bites at the top of your breast. His hair falling out of place and over his eyes. Your body ablaze. Marks dug into the side of his neck, bruises littering your hips, chest and chin rubbed raw from his stache. The two of you getting completely lost in each other, forgetting everything but this; the mission, the arguments, the tension, the frustration coming out, seeping through, finding a home in the way you fuck, kiss, are annoyingly addicted to the fire that burns between you. 
That gets harder and harder to ignore the more time spent apart. The more time you force yourself to hate him when your insides are telling you to shut up and fuck him. 
Each moan you let out, the next louder than the last, Tangerine swallows down. Sucks down with how he plays with your tongue—bites down with the sweet nips he gives your lower lip. 
“Forgot how pretty you sound,” he grunts against your chin. “And how fucking beautiful these things are.” His palm engulfs your left breast to squeeze and pull the nipple in between his swollen lips. 
“Fuck,” you hiss. Look down to watch his half lidded eyes stare up at you, to watch the bruises he sucks onto your supple flesh. That perfect strand of hair falling over one of his eyes to make him look even more like a sexy-tortuous-asshole. “Forgot how much you talked during this.”
“Forgot how much you liked hearing it.”
You begin to shake your head, a retort ready at the tip of your tongue, a loud “ahh” replacing it as he delivers a hard bite to your nipple. 
“You can lie to anyone you need to. Just not me.” Your breast feels like it's on fire, the trail of saliva he leaves behind doing little to cool the burning flesh. “I see you.” He grunts against your chest, your neck, the apex of your jaw.
“Yeah?” You swallow down a moan, nails like talons dug into the concrete of his shoulder. “What do you see?”
“A strong,” his hips thrust up, shocking you forward. Smooshing your chest to the open skin of his blue dress shirt, his skin just as hot as yours. “Powerful,” another thrust. “Woman,” another. “Who wields a knife just as good as she takes a cock.” 
A chuckle breaks through your string of moans, rattling your shaking chest. “You really need to work on your compliments.”
“Am I wrong?”
You hum, whimper when you feel the pad of his thumb bring itself against your clit. “No,” you shake your head. “Never wrong. Annoyingly.” You add the last part like a gospel of truth. A truth you’d forever hate and love on the same string that has you about to come on his cock. 
“There’s my smart girl.” 
You hate how those stupid words make you clench around him, how they make you moan and move faster against him. How your legs start to shake, fingers digging deeper into the meat of his shoulders. 
How when you both finish it’s at the same time, perfectly insync, your bodies working together, wordlessly proving how well the two of you are together—in so many irritating ways. 
Once the two of you start to breathe normally and you feel the train come to a slow stop, you’re standing, righting your clothes in the reflection of the windows and going back to normal. As if it never happened. 
The way it should be.
The way it always goes.
That look of irritation trying to cover the sex-flush your skin still has, as you bend down to grab your book he had tossed earlier. Tangerine’s wrist coming to wrap around yours to pull you to his chest, you think it’s some after sex sweetness he’s showing—it wouldn't be the first time—but then you hear Lemon’s voice and feel him brush past you and something inside you deflates a little.
The tiniest bit. 
But Tangerine, being the suave asshole that he is, doesn’t let that deflation stay flat for long. “If time wasn’t of the essence I would have made you come three more times on my cock. Since you like to disappear on me, I need to take all I can get from you.” 
“What? Do trains no longer have bathrooms?”
His chuckle makes the slightest of smirks spread across your teasing face, “ooh, this time I’m going to make you work for it. Beg me.” 
“That’ll be the day.” You snort, pulling yourself from his grip with ease as you sit back down in your seat. Ignoring the feeling of exhilaration you get from his come leaking from you and staining your underwear. 
“Or the next,” he looks at his watch, shrugs and fixes his suit as he sits across from you, “hour. Give or take.”
Game on.
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Text
Don't Blame Me
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.
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
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"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. 
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