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queers-gambit · 5 months

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Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Judging me now?"

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

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

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

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

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

You folded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Exactly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Isn't that the point?"

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

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

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

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

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wasn't planning on it?"

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

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

"A bit."

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

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

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

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

"I don't even know you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

2K notes · View notes

confused-pyramid · 2 years

Text

Derailed

pairing: tangerine x assassin!fem!reader

summary: When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...

word count: 2.8k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, slight marking, dirty talk, canon!typical violence, drinking

"Got it, sir," you say before hanging up the phone and stepping onto the train. This was your first mission since you left the White Death's payroll and you had to prove yourself to your superiors if you wanted to rebuild your reputation.

You have no idea what is waiting for you on this train, but you can imagine a mission as straightforward as retrieving a briefcase will be anything but simple.

Straightening your bartender uniform, you push through the throngs of people exiting the train and strut down the aisles as you search for the package you were assigned to find.

***

"Enough with the Thomas the train shit," Tangerine groans to Lemon as the bullet train finally leaves the station. "I don't give a flying fuck if you think I'm a Thomas or Diesel or whatever."

"Well, first of all," Lemon interjects, lifting a finger, "it's Thomas the Tank Engine. And second of all, I never said you were a Diesel. I made that very cle-"

Tangerine stops listening when he notices your figure pass them down the aisle, your gait tantalizingly familiar.

What the fuck are you doing here? he thinks before standing up abruptly.

"Lemon, hold that thought."

Tangerine grabs the briefcase and slowly follows you down the aisle, making sure to keep a safe distance so as not to alert you of his presence. He's skirting around the other passengers trying to put their luggage away, and he's about to catch up with you when a person in a large Momomon costume steps in front of him.

"Get the fuck out of my way," he grunts irritatedly, shoving the figure into one of the seats, before noticing all the children around him. "Apologies for my language."

He leaves them with a small wave, but it's only then that he notices you are missing.

"Fuck!" Tangerine exclaims again, kicking the seat next to him. He doesn't waste any more time and rushes down the aisle, waiting as the sliding doors take their time to open in front of him.

When the door finally slides open, he steps into the corridor, only to feel a lithe hand grab the back of his neck and push him forward. He spins around, but is pushed to the floor before he can register what is happening.

The next thing he knows, he is kneeling on the ground, looking up at you, as you press a small gun to his temple.

When did you start using guns?

Tangerine immediately puts his hands up, knowing the only way to diffuse this is to play to your soft side (okay, softer side).

"Hey, hey," he urges you in a charming tone, "I just wanted to talk, sweetheart."

"Yeah?" you challenge, pressing the cold metal harder against his head. "Let's hear it then."

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the soft curls back from his face. "It's been too long, doll. I wanted to catch up, see how you've been."

He can't imagine that any of this is working on you, but he has to try if he's going to finish this mission in one piece.

You smirk, finally taking in Tangerine's kneeling form before you. If your employer had told you that this mission would involve beautiful men on their knees, you would have signed up ages ago.

You met Tangerine six years ago at a job that ended up going completely awry...for him at least. The White Death had sent you to Japan to kidnap the son of one of the remaining Japanese crime families, and when you arrived, Tangerine and Lemon had already been walking him out the front door. They were nothing if not punctual, but back then, that was about the only thing they were good for.

Your weapon of choice had always been tranquilizer darts -- but you never said no to good ol' hand-to-hand combat -- and your lack of real weaponry eventually become a calling card of sorts. Especially because you always made it out alive, and with the job completed to perfection.

That day, Tangerine and Lemon clearly hadn't been expecting anyone, because upon spotting you, they didn't even bother to blink. You had played into their naive mindset and when you got close enough to grab the kid, they were each left with a tranq dart to the neck and a nice, long nap to recover from the shame of losing their asset.

Since then, you have been on opposite sides of many more missions, but the retrieval of this briefcase is the closest encounter you two have had in years.

In your reverie, your gun loosens in your hand and Tangerine must have noticed, because he shoots up, pushing your hand to the side and yanking his gun from his waistband. You aim your weapon at him again, and you are both left pointing your guns at each other, your grip tightening as your heart rate quickens slightly.

"Alright, darling, give me one good reason not to kill you right now?" he threatens, his jaw tightening by a fraction. "You fucked up our entire operation in Bolivia when you knocked out Lemon and got the White Death's men out before we could kill them all."

"Oh, honey, I've done much more than that," you smile, cocking your head to the side. If this was the game he wanted to play, then you would play along, but only as long as he kept it interesting.

"And as for why you shouldn't kill me," you continue, your eyes glinting with amusement. "It's because you need me."

Then, before he can react, you whack the side of his head with your gun and grab the briefcase from his hands. He grunts, clutching his temple, and you use the moment of distraction to dart out of the corridor and down the train cars, sprinting past the passengers and the angry ticket collector.

When you reach the bar compartment, you pull open a random cabinet and stuff the briefcase in a garbage can. It's not a moment too soon, because a second later, Tangerine bursts through the doors, his chest heaving and expression getting more agitated by the minute.

Reaching down, you grab a cocktail shaker and pour in the ingredients laid out on the counter, preparing a drink for yourselves.

"Where the hell is it?" he demands, stalking towards you.

You shrug, fighting the curve of your lips. "You'll get it when I've gotten what I need from you."

Your gun is sitting idly on the counter, so he tucks his own into his waistband and shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side. He starts to roll back his sleeves and you lick your lips as you shake the cocktail.

If nothing else went right on this mission, at least you'd be getting some eye candy for the evening.

Along with all of the times you've screwed up his missions, there have also been a multitude of other close encounters. Whether it was his hand around your throat as you stole his asset right from under him, or his breath against your neck as he snuck up behind you during a stake-out, his presence always entranced you.

Tangerine's seemingly magnetic hold on you has never escaped your notice, but it has also never gotten in the way of you finishing your jobs.

He sees the glint in your eyes, but doesn't say anything, deciding to use it to his advantage.

"Come on, sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, placing his rough hands on the counter in front of you. "Where is the briefcase?"

"Why do you need the case anyway?" you ask him, your eyes imploring his with something akin to genuine curiosity.

"It's the ransom money for the Son of the White Death," he responds honestly, watching your movements carefully as you grab glasses from below the counter.

You seem to ponder this. "Intriguing. On a separate note, how is Lemon these days? I heard they're calling you two the fruit twins now."

Tangerine rolls his eyes, his hands slamming down on the counter as he loses his patience. "He's fucking fantastic. Now where is the case, y/n?"

You don't respond, and instead pour out two drinks before sliding one towards him.

He doesn't bring his lips to the glass until you gulp down your whole drink and even then, he only takes a few sips.

He sees you watch his throat bob and he feels an unfamiliar pleasure at the thought of you finding him attractive.

"Look, Tangerine," you say with a resigned sigh, "I'm not working for the White Death anymore, but I still would like that briefcase. You know, for leverage."

He's not sure how to respond but then you start unbuttoning your blouse and, even after that drink, he feels his mouth go dry. His mind goes blank and he can't formulate any thoughts as your long, smooth neck becomes visible. Only when the first few buttons pop open does he realize that you're showing him your bullet proof vest.

Running a hand down your padded chest, you shoot him an amused look. "In case you try anything stupid." You pause, your hand sliding down your thigh. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you never liked these anyway, did you?"

This time, he anticipates your movements, and when a knife goes flying out of your hand, straight towards his chest, he manages to dodge at the last second, watching as it sinks into the hard back wall of the compartment.

When he turns back around, you're gone.

***

That was a lot closer than you would have liked, and you slink down the train cars, gripping the handle of the briefcase between your fingers.

It feels like everyone's eyes are on you as you walk down the aisle, slipping past the economy cars. When you reach the first class car, you stash the briefcase in the luggage compartment and are about to wait for the next stop to arrive when a man in a white suit takes a seat across from you.

"Can I help yo-" you begin before he cuts you off.

"You will pay for what you did to my family."

"Listen man, I don't know who you are," you try to tell him, but he pulls a massive knife from his belt and you know you can't just sit here any longer.

Swinging your legs out of the seat, you shove him away and grab the laptop of a sleeping woman a few seats over. Using it as a shield, you block a few of his jabs and slices before his knife finally starts to pierce through the metal and glass.

Chucking the laptop at him, you run in the opposite direction, back towards the briefcase, but he's right on your tail.

You push your way into the corridor, but the man grabs you from behind, shoving you forward and slicing down with his knife. The edge grazes your bicep and you wince, but right before you can brace yourself for the next swing, a gunshot rings out from behind you and the man falls to the floor, a shocked look plastered on his face as the life leaves his eyes.

You immediately jerk your head back to see who your savior is, and you admit that you're surprised to see Tangerine lowering his gun.

"Thanks," you gasp out, not wanting to waste another moment. He's tucking his pistol away when you reach towards the luggage to grab the case, but he sees your intentions and acts quickly.

His corded bicep locks around your neck from behind, pulling you back with an extraordinary strength that has you flying off the ground.

You gasp, struggling to breathe, but then you manage to lift your legs and kick out at the wall, pushing the both of you back. His grip loosens slightly, but it's just enough for you to spin around, sending him a kick to the shin that makes him grunt.

Tangerine strikes out at you, his fist narrowly missing your jaw, and you knee him in the groan, making him double over in pain for a few moments.

"That was low," he groans, his face turning red, "even for you, doll."

You chuckle, backing up. "It's a man's world, Tan."

Nevertheless, he's stronger than you remember and he recovers quickly, locking his forearm against your neck and pushing you back into the bathroom. You press up against the wall, facing him, and you can't help the smirk that reappears on your lips.

Well, this is certainly interesting.

"You're better," you huff, your voice straining from the weight of his arm, "than Bolivia, I mean."

You dig your fingers into his hard muscles, trying to pry him off. "You two were absolutely miserable back then, but you've got some chops now."

Tangerine smirks, leaning forward so his breath tickles your nose. "You haven't seen the half of it, darling."

Your eyes dart down to his mouth for a split second, but he's just as fast and he notices your hitched breath. His eyes darken immediately, and before you can utter a word, his mouth is on yours.

His arm lets you go and his large hands grasp at your waist as you press into him, clinging to his body for support in the small bathroom.

His calloused fingers on your skin send a shot of heat down to your core and you bite his lip harshly. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise and lust, and you notice the drop of blood a second before he wipes it away.

Your lips crash together again and he doesn't take his time while grabbing your loosely hanging hair and tugging back, exposing your neck to him. Tangerine licks a line up the column of your throat and your fingers split open his vest and button-down in one go, sending the buttons flying to the floor.

You gasp when he tears off the velcro of your bullet proof best, chucking it to the floor, before kicking the bathroom door closed with a loud click.

Thankfully, your skirt provides him easy access, and he doesn't hesitate before yanking your panties to the side and sticking a thick finger into your pussy. You cry out, your head falling back against the small mirror as he hoists you up onto the sink.

He doesn't warn you before adding another finger, his quick pumps hitting the walls of your cunt with a harsh precision that has you getting close embarrassingly fast.

"Look at you," he smirks, watching your eyes roll back, "whimpering like a school girl from just my fingers."

You are about to finish, and he must feel the tightening of your core, because he pulls away, leaving you impatient and unsatisfied.

"Bastard," you groan as he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your lips.

You suck them into your mouth, and he almost moans at the feeling of your hot tongue around him. When they're clean, he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop and reaches down to undo his buckle.

Tangerine pushes his trousers down to his knees and angles you back before sheathing himself fully inside of you in one movement.

He groans from the wet heat of your cunt and the tightness of you squeezing around him has him gripping the counter for support. He doesn't wait before thrusting up into you at the pace of a bullet train, his rhythm never faltering even as your head falls back in pleasure.

Tangerine leans down and sucks a bruise into your neck, enjoying the way the purple and red blossom against your skin in a delicious mark.

You start to tighten around him and he knows his release is imminent, so he lifts you up off his cock and turns you around so your elbows are on the counter. He starts to fuck you from behind, one hand on your waist while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you to him.

You arch your back, changing the angle in a way that has both of you moaning with pleasure. You come apart a moment later, and he follows close behind, relishing the sound of your whimpering as his body slowly relaxes.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a paper towel to clean you both up, when he hears a light hiss from the ceiling.

He looks up to see a thin green snake slithering down from the vent, its teeth bared and ready. Both of you shriek as the snake shoots down toward Tangerine. He smacks it away and into the toilet, but not before it takes a sharp bite out of his shoulder.

His vision starts to blur and you grab his arms, leaning him back against the counter before you move to open the door.

"Please tell me you spiked those drinks from earlier with the antidote," he groans, his face growing hotter as the venom spreads through his system.

"Well," you whisper, your voice fading as he loses consciousness, "I guess today was your lucky day."

#bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #assassin!reader #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #fanfic #aaron taylor johnson fanfic

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mayfieldss · 3 months

Text

Accident - Tangerine

Warnings; language, sexual innuendos, mentions of blood. A serious overuse of nicknames "love" and "darling". Tangerine is saurr ick coded in this idk what's going on.

Summary; Tangerine walks in on you after a shower and the conversation that follows plays out different than expected.

Tangerine is not expecting anything when he opens the door except an empty room with a bed for him to rest. He knows you're somewhere around of course, you'd parted ways with him shortly after the job, claiming you needed to wash the blood off of you before it stained your conscience. He didn't know if you'd still be in the hotel room, or down at the bar drinking away the memories of the days events. Overall he wasn't expecting what he saw.

"Fuck, shit, oh my god." He finds you scrambling for something , anything to cover yourself when he enters.

"Oh, bloody hell, sorry love. Thought you'd be done by now." He turns his back to you, though he does it slowly, because quite frankly he can't help himself from stealing a glance.

"You presentable yet darling?" Tangerine can hear you stumbling about behind him, a smile creeping onto his lips at the quiet curses that you let slip under your breath.

"Couldn't you just leave?"

"Believe it or not, I paid for this disaster of a hotel room, so I think I've won myself the right to bloody well stand in it."

He listens again, and can just make out a string of names you call him under your breath, "Ya know, that's not a nice thing to say."

"Go fuck yourself Tan." You're pissed, he likes it.

"I think it would be much more enjoyable if you gave me some help with that." He hears you gasp, your footsteps stumbling about until he knows you're in the bathroom and out of sight. He turns around, walking through the room to lay upon the bed. With hands behind his head and his back against the pillows, he waits for you.

When you're finally back within his view, he sighs, loving just how much his smile is irritating you, and even more so the way you refuse to look at him. "I think I liked you better with your clothes off."

"Of course you did." You're packing things into your duffle bag, and as you lean down, Tangerine can't help but notice that the shirt you're wearing is too big for you. Not only is it oversized however, but Tangerine realises it's his.

"You know darling, locking doors is a thing I'm sure you're capable of, considering you got opposable thumbs and all." He doesn't bring up the shirt just yet, perhaps because he thinks you might take it off if he does. He likes the look of you in it for now.

"I hate to break it to you, but this shitty hotel you paid for? Has no fucking locks!" you stand straight as you yell at him and now he has a full picture of you. His shirt hangs loose around you, the buttons done up crooked in your obvious rush to put something over your body, one sleeve keeps slipping from your shoulder, the skin there revealing itself and hiding away again every time you pull the fabric back up. He's obsessed with it, and you.

"Fucking hell."

Tangerine doesn't intend for the words to escape him, but they do, and he's almost embarrassed by it. It takes a minute before you realize what's happening, looking down at yourself and back up at him.

"The shirt's really doing it for ya, isn't it?" You've got your eyebrows raised, and Tangerine grins broadly.

"It really is, love." He pauses, taking you in again, "it really, really is."

You roll your eyes at him, but to Tangerine's surprise, you keep the shirt on, moving to sit on the other bed in the room.

"You know, that's something i don't get." You're staring up at the ceiling, arms by your sides on the bed as you speak. "What is so attractive about sharing clothing?"

Tangerine huffs, struggling to concentrate on his words. "Fucked if i know, but I'd let you have my kids right about now."

A laugh slips free of you, and you turn your head, cheek pressed against the duvet as you look at him. "You'd let me? What the fuck does that mean?"

"Sorry darling, lemme rephrase." Tangerine clears his throat, and you resist the urge to smile. "It would be an honor to father your children."

In an instant, you're laughing so hard you can barely breathe, curling in on yourself, and holding your stomach from the pain of the action. Tangerine watches you all through it, a smirk plastered firm on his face. "You're treating me like the fucking joker right now, it's not that funny."

You ignore him, calming yourself down.

"If you think about it, we'd have some good-looking kids, don't ya think?" His eyes scan over the features of your face, and he knows you're doing the same to him. "They'd be real heartbreakers, I think."

"Are planning out a fucking future with me in your head right now?" You ask, and there's another chuckle of disbelief threatening to break past your lips.

"No," Tangerine is deep in thought, though there's nothing sweet about it. "But I am planning out the next ten minutes with you."

That stuns you into a silence and a thousand thoughts race around in your head. You sit up, the left sleeve of Tangerine's top slipping from your shoulder again. "In my head, the next ten minutes involve alcohol, food, and sleeping in this hard arse motel bed. I think our priorities are pretty different."

Tangerine chuckles, propping himself up on his elbow, staring you down. "Well, our plans have one thing in common." He grins, but you don't share the expression. "The bed's in my fantasy too, darling."

You scoff, standing to move across the room. You'll order room service, you think, and pay for it with money from Tangerine's wallet, just to teach him a lesson. "You disgust me."

You can hear Tangerine standing from his place on his own bed, coming to stand behind you. "Alright, I'll drop the subject. What're you ordering?"

You twist your head back to look at him as you wait for the call on the rooms landline to go through. "Whatever the fuck I want."

The man behind you sighs, though you know he finds humor in the situation. He likes to get you all riled up. "You don't gotta give me the attitude, I get your point. Get me some chips, though, would ya?" His hands move upward to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. Buttons very similar to the uneven ones holding a particular piece of fabric to your body.

You don't respond, but when ordering Tangerine can't help but smile as you inquire about the chips he'd asked for. You don't hate him yet. In fact, he thinks you feel quite the opposite. You find him amusing at the very least, even though he finds you to be the most intriguing person he's ever met. Baby steps, he thinks. One day, you might take as much interest in him as he does you.

"Thank you, love. I appreciate it." He says once you've hung up the phone.

"They're just chips. It's not a big deal." You push past him, bare shoulder brushing against his clothed arm.

"It is when you're as starving as I am." His gaze follows you as you leap back on to your designated bed, sinking into the stiff pillows.

"You were starving for something else a minute ago." You mutter, eyes falling closed as you lay atop the covers.

"I'm always hungry for that, love. Make no mistake." He's removed the vest he'd been wearing, his belt discarded too as he answers the knock on the hotel room door. It's a staff member with what you ordered, arriving abnormally fast.

"You seriously apall me." You groan once the door is closed again, sitting up ready to eat. Tangerine snatches his chips from the tray provided, taking them over to his own bed as he sits down. With his legs over the edge of it, he leans forward, smile present again.

"I'm only joking, darling. Unless, of course, you don't want me joking, in which case I'm totally not."

That does earn a snort from you as you dig into your meal, and Tangerine leaves it at that. It's been an eventful night, and he's blessed enough to be sitting in this room alive. He's gifted even further with the fact that he gets to sit here with you, looking like a bombshell capable of ending every war in the world. Even tired and stuffing your face full of mediocre room service, he can't help but admire you. And that's a dangerous thing. If he's catching feelings, he doesn't exactly know it yet. But he has a suspicion that he might be, and he'll think on that for the rest of the night.

TANGERINE TAGLIST; @swordofawriter

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nyxvuxoa-writes · 10 months

Note

Tangerine taking female girlfriends virginity after months of dating.

Taking a break from my first Kraven fic, to write this as my first Tangerine fic. Jumping in head first. Thanks for the prompt. ♡

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧

Tangerine x Virgin!Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: Oneshot, Smut — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: Smut, with slight plotting — No one under 18. Virgin reader with an experienced Tangerine. Use of pet name: Sugar. Slight fingering. No mention of "cherry popping", not everyone bleeds with first-time sex. Slightly dominating Tangerine. Slightly submissive, shy, but eager reader. Unprotected sex. P-n-V. ◢ Word Count: 3.4k

◢ A/N: This is my first Tangerine piece and the first things I have written since coming back from my mental health break, so go easy on me ya? Got a bunch of ATJ fics coming up, keep an eye out. Gif and divider credit goes to myself.

It's hot, disgustingly so, and summer has only just started. But that didn't stop the weather from being muggy and gross, or your air conditioner to stop working suddenly. It seemed like one thing after another, but you were making due. The windows to your place open, fans going so that there was some sort of breeze, and you walking around in a pair of panties and a t-shirt that belonged to your boyfriend.

How long has it been now? Roughly six months...or coming up on it and he had been your first truly serious relationship. Though, this relationship came with strings attached, like his work (which he didn't really talk about with you) or Lemon...but you made due, and honestly, you actually enjoyed his brother's company from time to time.

Six months though...and here you two were. The only difference between you and the other girls he dated or has been with was... that you are a virgin. You weren't sure if this was the first time he had ever been with one, or you really didn't know much about his sexual history in general, but he has actually been rather patient with you on waiting.

Which, still surprises you from time to time when you think about it in passing, often leaving you to question what it was about you that made him stick around. But recently, these thoughts about feeling Tangerine had been becoming stronger, and more frequent. Maybe it was time to finally take everything to the next level?

You weren't sure when Tangerine would be in town. For a little while there, he went dark and there was no contact. A part of you had been worried, naturally, but something in your gut had told you that everything was okay. He was okay. So, for now, you kept yourself busy as you waited for responses to a text or at least a phone call. But nothing came.

You were feeling a little antsy because of it, but you refrained from sending him another message and instead kept yourself busy with cleaning up your place. You had been watering a few plants by the windows when you heard the key in the lock and the sound of the door opening. "Sugar?!" He calls, his accent booming out for you. "Are you home? I'm sorry! I lost my fuckin' phone." He adds, almost growling at himself.

And that wasn't too far from the truth, though it was more like that phone saved his life by taking a bullet for him while it had been tucked into an inside pocket of his suit coat. He closes the door behind him, turning back to look into your place, seeing you slide across the floor as you come around the corner and run at him.

You launch yourself at him, jumping up, your legs wrapped around his waist with your hands draping over his shoulders. Your lips press firmly against his, soft at first before the kiss deepens as he returns it. Tangerine's hands move to your ass, gripping slightly as he keeps propped up against him and the gap between you two closed. There was something different about this kiss, a feeling behind it he couldn't quite put his finger on and he liked it.

"Did you miss me that much?" He asks you softly against your lips. "I did." You admitted to him softly with a smile. Having him here brought a sense of calm to your mind. It had been a relief to see him after he had vanished on you. In your mind, you didn't question the loss of his phone, because he had come home to you. The details of it all were unimportant, so long as you felt his arms around you again.

He carries you into the living room, setting you down to your feet again as he goes to slip off his suit coat. He folds it neatly before he gently lays it over the back of a nearby chair. Tangerine's gaze goes to you, watching you as you stand there chewing on the corner of her lip and zoning out on him slightly. "Got somethin' on your mind, Sugar?" He asks. You snap out of your thoughts slightly and look up at him. Blinking a few times as you gather your thoughts before you smile. "Yeah, actually. I do. Can we talk about something?" "Of course." Tangerine sits himself down on your couch, his hand coming up to loosen the tie around his neck. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, and you take a glimpse at his neck and collarbone for a moment, almost wanting to zone out again as you think about it. You are ready, right? Still, even with being ready, there were butterflies forming in your stomach, a small sense of anxiety. Would it be as big of a deal to him, as it would be to you? These questions ran through your mind as he made himself more comfortable on your couch. He takes a moment to slip off his shoes and socks, setting them to the side before he leans back again and brings his leg up, resting his ankle on his knee. One hand goes to rest on his leg, and his other arm stretches out on the back of your couch.

It was a sight that you had seen half a million times, and yet at this moment, it ran your mind into those thoughts you kept to yourself. You chuckle nervously as you go to sit down next to him. You keep your posture relaxed as much as you can, turning slightly and leaning your shoulder against the back of the couch. Tangerine's brow arches slightly. "So I have been thinking....maybe tonight we could... you know." You say, your voice going a little quiet at the end there before you chew slightly on your bottom lip.

It took him just a brief moment to realize what you were talking about. His stormy blue eyes look over your face briefly before he smirks slightly and lets out a small chuckle.

"Are you sure?" He asks, wanting to double-check. Tangerine knew that you wanted to wait. He knew that this would be the first time for you, and while it wasn't starting off how he pictured it, there was a sudden anticipation in his mind. He wondered how you would respond to him. Will you enjoy the way he feels?

You lick your lips and nod, giving him a smile. "One-hundred percent sure." You say, reassuring him of your choice. But what now? Do you just jump into this? You felt a little lost on the matter suddenly, losing that sense of balance in the situation so-to-speak.

Picking up on your nervousness, Tangerine didn't hesitate to take control of the situation. Having been working, the stress relief would be good for him, and on top of that, he would finally get to feel you. The thought had crossed his mind more often than he would admit. There had been plenty of moments while working that the thought of you moaning his name had become a distraction.

He moves himself and reaches for you, gently pulling you to his lap and making you straddle him on the couch. Not the first time, but this time, it would go further than just a heated small make-out session. His fingers move along your thighs, dancing against your skin for a moment as he lets his fingers wander to your panties under that oversized shirt.

Your breathing is already picking up at the feeling and his touch leaves goosebumps against your skin. You smiled, shifting your weight on him slightly only to realize that this man under you was already starting to get hard under the fabric of his suit pants. Your hips press down against him slightly, wanting to feel that excitement start to grow.

Tangerine's fingers start to wander against the waistband of your panties, guiding you down against his pants slightly, feeling as you pressed yourself down. You were curious, and he was going to show you exactly what you needed to do. He fixes his posture, sitting up slightly as he leans in and kisses you.

A small kiss at first, followed by little kisses that started to last longer as each one happened. The kisses start to deepen becoming a little more heated, his tongue slipping in with yours and wrestling with yours for a moment before he broke away from the kiss. His lips start to wander against your jaw and neck, kissing you gently as he lets his lips explore you.

Your hands move to rest against his arms, your fingers trailing up the dress shirt he wore. You occasionally pull at the fabric slightly under your fingers, leaning into the kisses against your neck. You can feel your body heating up, a not unfamiliar feeling at times, but right now it made the butterflies seem more intense. It was as if you couldn't get them to calm down. You are excited and nervous, with a small sense of performance anxiety crossing your mind.

It felt like time had slowed for a moment, feeling his kisses against your skin. You were lost in the moment, and when he went to stand up and carry you into the bedroom, you squeak in slight surprise. He smirks, feeling as you wrap yourself around him, your face nuzzling into his neck slightly. You take in that familiar expensive scent, mixes with his own natural scent, and you can feel as if your body simply melts into him.

Tangerine sets you down on the bed before he reaches for the t-shirt and strips it from your frame. He couldn't help but smirk, the side of his mouth coming up as he gazes over you. Sure, he might have seen you naked before, possibly in passing while you were getting out of a shower or bath, or even getting dressed for your day. But this was different.

His hand reaches for you as he cups the side of your face, leaning down to kiss you before he guides you to be more centered on the bed, and lying on your back. Reaching for your panties, he slid them off, getting a good look at the already dewy hole between your legs. Wanting and waiting for him. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you smile shyly before you chew on your lip. Tangerine took this opportunity to strip down, something you watched intently, his clothes thrown casually to the floor. At this moment, the way his suit was kept, was the least of his concerns. He looks down at you, taking that moment to admire you in this position. He wanted to ravage you, while at the same time, he didn't want to rush you. This though, meant he had plans for the future, things he wanted to show you or teach you; things he enjoys when it comes to sex.

"If you need me to stop, you need to tell me. Do you understand?" He asks, while he brings his body to hover over yours and smiles down at you. All you could do was nod, quickly, your hands coming up to touch him slightly. He shakes his head and smiles.

"Don't touch me. Not yet." He says softly. "Why?" You ask, your head tilting slightly. "Just trust me, Sugar. Keep your hands on the bed and relax." He coos at you. Your brow furrow slightly, but you do as you are told, bringing your arms to rest at your sides. Your fingers fidget with your comforter slightly.

"Good girl." He says softly and the words hit you in a different way. What feeling was that? You smile, your face turning red slightly.

Tangerine lowers himself slightly, his lips coming to your breast as he takes your left nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing against your flesh slightly before he lifts himself up to hover a bit more. With one hand he braces himself, holding his weight up as his free hand moves against your stomach. It trails down to between your legs and you feel the brush of his fingers against your swollen bud.

You are sensitive and wet, your juices already coating your lower lips and wetting his fingers. He couldn't help but let out a small groan before he smiles. He knew it was his fault that you were like this, and the man was feeling rather proud of it. His fingers simply play with your sensitive bud, a gentle circular motion that causes your body to tense up. You take in a small breath, feeling the tension in your core, a heat that feels like it's spreading throughout your body.

Watching the way you respond, he smiles, letting his fingers pick up slightly in their pace. He grazes the tips of his fingers against your clit, following it down to your opening where his fingers tease you slightly, grazing against the hole without sliding into it. He watches the way you squirm slightly, your lips parting in needing breaths.

Tangerine's own breathing starts to pick up more as he feels himself becoming more hard with each passing moment. But he was savoring this. He listened to the little whimpers that start to come from you, that needy tone he was the cause for. He knew what you wanted, but he took his time for a moment longer as he relished in the way you would become more wet.

When he was ready, positioned himself between your legs. Feeling his skin brushes up against your inner thighs, your core tightens with anticipation. Tangerine drags his tongue against his lower lip, gripping himself as he starts to slowly press the tip of his cock against your wet opening. As the tip of him starts to breach into your opening, his strong hands move to your hips and he gently grips at you as he slowly starts to press himself into.

Feeling pressure as his girth starts to stretch you, there is a pain as he slowly presses himself in deeper. You weren't expecting it to hurt, not like this. Your body tenses and you grip the sheet as you let out a strained whimper. This didn't cause Tangerine to pause in actions, he knew that the feeling would pass and so he pressed a little deeper before he started slow motions of pumps into your body.

Letting out a heavy groan, Tangerine found himself enthralled with how you felt. You are tight, more so than those he had been with previously. Then again, those girls hadn't been virgins. At first, it had been slightly uncomfortable, but as your body started to adjust to the feeling and size of him, it felt amazing.

He watches the way you arch your back against the bed. Pain turned to pleasure and your mind focused on the way he felt, the smells, and the sounds around you. Flesh hitting flesh softly, his groaning matching the little noises that escaped from you. It was all so picturesque.

Tangerine comes to hover over you, bracing himself with his hands and his legs adjusting under him as the gap between the both of you comes to an almost close. His lips meet the crook of your neck as he starts to kiss your skin. He groans against you as his pace starts to pick up slightly, the sound of flesh hitting flesh becoming a little louder.

"You feel so good, Sugar." He mutters as his lips trail up your neck. His breath is hot against your skin and his groans are louder now, echoing in your mind as the sound roughly, but sweetly hits your ears. His words cause you to moan louder and your head goes to lean against his slightly as you take in his expensive scent.

Everything is a little overwhelming but in such a satisfying way. A sort of sensory overload to your mind, your body feels hot and tingly all over. You tighten more around him as his cock twitches with his even-paced motions. You whimper and moan with his groans, almost synced with each other as you give in to the passion of the moment.

As his lips come to find yours the passion starts to increase. His motions become quicker in pace and you can feel as his chances the way his hips move, allowing you to feel his length more with each rhythmic motion he goes to make. Faster now, a little more rough, he finds himself losing a small sense of control.

His tongue feels rough against yours, fighting in a small way, wet, and he moans into your mouth as he presses his length in as deeply as he can. He can feel you tense with the slight pain that he causes, but hearing you moan with it caused him tense with enjoyment. He can feel the pressure building, and the thought of filling you with his seed becomes a rather forefront thought in his mind.

Tangerine shifts his weight, bringing his legs a little closer to you as he adjusts the way he's pumping into you just slightly. It was enough that the motions into you would graze against your bud just slightly. The sensation of the motion caused your hands to leave the comforter, and you quickly grip your boyfriend, your nails digging into his skin slightly as a strong tensing feeling starts to creep through your body.

"F-fuc-fuck..." You manage to mutter.

It had been the moment he had been waiting for. When you needed something to grip on, the nails in his flesh, scratch marks on his skin. He knew he was hitting those sweet spots that made your body feel all sorts of things for the first time. It drove him into an almost feral state.

Tangerine pumps harder, faster, knowing that it was going to hurt and yet feel good for you at the same time. You start to channel the pain and pleasure as your back arches against the bed and you let out louder moans. Your toes start to curl against the bed and that tension spreads more through your body, creeping like another heat wave.

It had been a matter of moments after he had changed his positioning slightly that you found yourself with trembling legs and an almost electrifying feeling through your body. Your clit pulses with your heartbeat and heavily pumping blood as the muscles respond to the full body rush he had given you.

Feeling that moment of your lower lips gripping at him with an increased, pulsating tightening, Tangerine lets out a loud groan as he pumps a little harder into you. His own release is just within reach. He's quick to move, sitting himself up more as his hands quickly grips your hips once more and takes control of his finish.

He uses you for just a few moments longer, feeling this hyper-focused pleasure. His cock twitches heavily as his release is achieved, coating your interior walls with hot ribbons of his seed. His eyes closed for a moment as his lips part in heavy breaths, and then his body starts to relax and the tension from the moment and from the day start to fade.

The smell of sweat and sex hit your nose as you relax against the bed, that coming back to earth feeling washing over you as you look up at him and smile before you cover your face with your hands for a moment. It was all overwhelming and yet, at the same time, you were eager for more.

Tangerine slowly pulls from you, watching the mess from between your legs with a rather satisfied grin. He brings himself to lay down next to you, his hands reaching for you as he brings you closer and smiles.

"How are you feeling?" He asks softly. "A little sore, but good." You admitted as you uncover your face. Tangerine nods. "Take a shower with me?" He asks.

You look at him, nodding your head before you lean in and kiss him softly. His fingers, run against your skin, touching you so softly and sweetly. These hands can kill, and yet they can do something like this as well. In time, you would learn more about him; some good things and some bad, but chances are nothing was going to change the way you felt about him or how he was feeling about you.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥ TAG LIST: @voxmortuus @david-winters-93

#bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #nyxvuxoa writes

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eefos · 2 months

Text

I’m unwell

#aaron taylor johnson #bullet train tangerine #tangerine #atj #kraven the hunter #the fall guy #armani #giorgio armani #armani beauty

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eternalslover · 5 months

Text

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Lemon: It’s times like this that I wish I listened to Tangerine

Y/N: Why? What’d he say?

Lemon: I don’t know, I wasn’t listening

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fooled-around-and-fell · 6 months

Text

Marks

Summary: Tangerine is reminded of the times you got hurt because of him, and the guilt is eating him alive.

Genre: angst, fluff

warnings: scars, very little smut, p in v (wrap it before ya tap it)

a/n: welcome to the list, Tangerine 🧡

Masterlist

-----

Tan is finally home after a week of being gone. He's finally here, and not just the lingering smell of when he last slept next to you. He's here, holding you close to him as your skin touches his.

There's no urgency, no rush. He's telling you that he's home, and he's staying for a long, long time. He peppers kisses on your neck, nipping and almost leaving a hickey, but stops cause he knows you have to work tomorrow.

Surprisingly, you pull him closer, urging him to keep going.

"Babe?"

"I'll wear a turtle neck."

Chuckling, he happily obliges and begins sucking on your flesh, his thrusts getting rougher at the same time. "So sweet."

"Tan," you moan out his name, legs locking behind him when he hits that spot. His thrusts get more erratic, and when he feels you coming around him, he spills inside you. He moans when you're still squeezing him.

"I've missed you." You chuckle.

"Sweetheart, you've no idea." He kisses you before pulling out and getting a towel to clean you up.

He sees you lying down on your stomach, slowly falling asleep, and he smiles, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. But then he sees the scars you have, ones that you got because of him.

The scar on your hip from when someone sliced you with a knife because you tried to get away from their grip, the one from an explosion, and that other one from when someone broke into your home to get revenge on Tan.

Suddenly he feels more disgusted with himself rather than lucky. No, he's still lucky, lucky because, despite everything that happened, you're still with him. Why is that? What did he do to deserve this?

If anything, you deserve so much more. At the least someone whose job isn't going to endanger you. The fact that you keep getting hurt because of him... Tan's mouth goes dry, and he doesn't know what to do.

"Tan? What's wrong?"

He hears your soft, sleepy voice. How can someone so kind, so perfect, be so nice to him? How can someone like you like- no, love him?

But he's not about to pour out his worries onto you. Not when he knows you're just going to assure him it's not his fault and that you still love him. He doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that.

Without saying a word, he climbs into bed, spooning you. He's holding you extra tight, swearing to God that he's going to try his best to not let anyone hurt you ever again. Not even himself.

"I love you." He whispers.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and you mutter an "I love you too" before falling asleep.

-----

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling cold, and when you turn around to find Tan, you see him sitting on the bed instead, head in his hands.

"Tan?" You called out to him, caressing his back. "Everything okay?"

You know this happens -- it has happened before. Tan sometimes gets nightmares, and he'll just sit in silence for a while before returning to bed. He never wants to wake you.

"Y-yeah." He's taken aback. "Sorry, love, did I wake you?"

"No, not at all." You answer, searching for his eyes. "I was just cold."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

He doesn't answer but still accepts your invitation to go back to bed, burying his head in the crook of your neck and letting you cradle his figure.

He hugs your waist, and his grip tightens when he feels the scar on your hip. That's when you know what he's thinking about.

You kiss his forehead, "it's not your fault, Tan."

His jaw clenches and he buries his head deeper into your neck, if that's even possible. Tan doesn't answer, and you figure he must not want to talk about it.

Mindlessly, you start playing with his dark curls and suddenly you feel something wet against your skin. You realize Tan is crying.

"Hey." You pull away a little, wanting to look at him but he avoids your gaze, looking down like a kid in trouble. It's a little cute, you're not gonna lie. "Baby, look at me, please?"

Tan's scared. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do. If he tells you he's sorry, does that seem like he's just saying it? If he says he won't let anyone hurt you ever again -- isn't that what he said last time? He doesn't want to give you empty promises but also doesn't want to let you go.

"Let me in that head of yours." You lift his head by his chin. "We're a team, remember? We figure things out together."

He really is the luckiest man in the world.

"I..." He starts. "I'm sorry, I can't promise people won't try to hurt you. All I can promise you is my best. I'll do my best to make you happy, keep you safe, and make sure you won't regret choosing me. And I can't thank you enough for that -- for choosing me. I don't know what I did to ever deserve you, but I will cherish and love you until the day I die. No, even after that. I'll love you in the afterlife."

"Your best and your love is more than enough." You kiss him deeply. "I love you, Tan. And though I know you won't listen to me when I tell you this, I'll tell you anyway; you did everything to deserve me, just as I deserve you."

Tan finally smiles a little. "I'm not perfect."

"And I never asked you to be. I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't want you to be. I'm not perfect either, but you know what? You love me anyway."

"And you love me anyway."

"Exactly," you smile. "These scars, I don't remember them as scars that hurt, I remember them as marks that show how much you mean to me, and how you've saved me every single time."

Tan pulls you to his chest, hugging you so tight you almost can't breathe. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tan."

#tangerine #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x oc #tangerine x female reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine fluff #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #aaron taylor johnson characters

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venusthepirate · 2 years

Text

“Could be Ebola. They bleed from their eyes.”

“Ebola ?”

“I’ll smell.”

“Don’t smell it.”

#dumbasses #but they’re MY dumbasses #tangerine’s face is the 🤭 emoji #I love this #tangerine #bullet train #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #lemon and tangerine #lemon bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train lemon #tangerine and lemon #lemon #brian tyree henry #bullet train 2022

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ichorai · 11 months

Text

apple pies & break-ins ; tangerine.

pairing ; tangerine x assassin!spouse!reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; tangerine comes back home just as you're about to leave.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; pure fluff, mild comedy, established relationship (married), assassin au

warnings / includes ; blood/injuries/weapons, slightly suggestive, tangerine has a potty mouth, lemon cameo, tangerine being clingy and sappy

main masterlist.

The entire house smelled of cinnamon, apples, and buttery pie crust. You sliced up another apple, taking care to carve out its core, before tossing it in the sugar syrup and popping the chopped pieces of fruit into the crust to bake in the oven. As soon as you bumped the door shut with your hip, the front door creaked open, followed by a familiar jangling of keys.

You glanced up with a warm smile, glad that your husband was finally home—except it was quick to melt away when you took in his disheveled appearance. There was blood all over him, dribbling down his hairline, splattered over his neck, staining his once-pristine clothes.

Despite his haggard state, he sent you a tired beam, his mustache twitching with the smile.

“‘Ello, love,” he greeted, making his way to you behind the kitchen counter. “Close your mouth, darlin’, you’ll catch flies.” With a cheeky smirk, he slotted a finger beneath your chin, effectively snapping your lips shut. He mildly winced when he noticed he accidentally left a faint print of sticky blood on your jaw, but wisely decided not to tell you.

You fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “Jesus, Tan. Is that your blood?”

“Not sure, honestly. It’s coming from all over—some of it’s bound to be mine. Don’t worry about me, love. I’m fuckin’ peachy. Speaking of, it smells really good in here. You bakin’ something for me, darling? I’m flattered,” he hummed, leaning forward to kiss you.

Before he could, you ducked away from him, pushing his face to the side with a wrinkled nose. “Ugh, go shower first, you’re getting blood everywhere! To be honest, I would’ve felt better knowing it was yours.”

“Ouch,” he murmured, though his grin still lingered by the corner of his mouth. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

Relenting, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his unsuspecting lips. “There. You happy?”

“Very. Thanks, love.” He sent you a playful wink before slinking off to the bathroom, whistling a peppy tune under his breath on the way. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, before turning to clean up the mess of flour and sugar and apple cores you’d made on the kitchen counter.

When your husband finally slunk out of the bathroom, a thick white towel hanging low around his waist and another ruffling at his damp curls, he made his way back into the kitchen.

“Put on some clothes, Tan,” you scoffed when he pressed against you from behind, sprinkling a bit of cinnamon sugar on the apple pie you had just taken out of the oven.

“Hm, you don’t like me like this?” he queried, verging on a whine since you weren’t paying him the least bit of attention. “Naked and at your disposal?”

Amused, you finally turned around in his arms, trapped between him and the counter. The blue of his eyes were hooded and lustful, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. You, however, smiled sweetly at him. “You’re not naked.”

“Well, that can easily be remedied—”

Before he could reach down to undo the towel around his waist, you stopped him with your hands gripping both his wrists, quirking your brows. “As much as I’d love to, I have to call in for a job soon. I’m running late already. I was baking the pie for you in case you got back while I was gone.”

“Another job?” asked Tangerine, clearly upset at the turn of events. “Can’t you call off? I’m sure they can send another bloody assassin to do their dirty work.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before gently pushing him away so you could head off to your shared bedroom and get changed. To none of your surprise, your husband trailed along behind you like a sullen puppy. “It’s a lot of money, baby. Don’t think I could afford to keep skipping jobs just to laze around with you.”

With a disappointed grumble, Tangerine wrapped his arms around you from behind again, squeezing tightly and kissing down your neck. “How long will this one take?”

“I’ll be back tonight,” you reassured him. “Tomorrow at the very latest.”

“Alright,” he acquiesced, though not without a loud sigh. He sat down on the bed, watching as you shirked off your flour-covered shirt in favor of a dark button-up. “You remember how we first met?”

Of course you did. You remembered it as if it was yesterday. You crossed your arms, stepping in between his legs by the edge of the bed. Both of his hands went to your waist, fingers curling over your back and absentmindedly tracing loose shapes on your sides.

Looking up at you, he spoke between pressing soft kisses along your abdomen, over the black shirt you had donned, “I was on a mission with Lemon in Madrid… and we were in a tight situation. Bullets flying everywhere, my leg fucked up, and my gun jammed. Then, whaddya know, the most beautiful fuckin’ person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon comes flying through one o’ the windows. Took out three people with one knife, and took out another four with a bloody crossbow. You looked at me, covered in blood, and asked if I was alright. I told you that you were fucking gorgeous—and then you fell in love with me, right on the spot, and the rest is history.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter. “Hm, that’s not how I remember it. Need I remind you that I shoved you to the side because you kept getting in my way, asking if I’d like to have dinner with you? Gods, Tan, you were a pain in my ass. And your brother was laughing at you.”

“Cunt,” he grumbled at the mention of his brother. “Well, even if you didn’t fall in love with me right then and there—I did. I knew I had to be yours from the moment I saw you.”

You lowered yourself to a crouch, cupping his face and caught his lips in a feverish kiss. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his. “Are you telling me this because you want me to stay?”

A sheepish grin tugged at the corner of Tangerine’s lips. “Is it working?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You pulled away, slinging a packed bag over your shoulder and heading out the bedroom. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Love you.”

“Wait! You said you’d come back tonight!”

True to your word, you had returned home at midnight, stumbling through the door tired and weary. Thankfully, you weren’t too banged up, just a scratch on your shoulder from the graze of a bullet that you managed to patch yourself before coming back. You were greeted with Tangerine dozing on the couch, a shitty reality show glowing on the television screen, with the half-eaten apple pie on the coffee table in front. He startled awake when you flicked his cheek with a smile.

“Hey, sleepy,” you said, dipping down to kiss his forehead, sauntering towards your bedroom to get changed.

As expected, your husband scurried off the couch to follow after you, gathering you into his arms and kissing you deeply. “I missed you,” he murmured, accent thick and lilting.

“Come on, I wanna get to sleep,” you said, tugging him to the bed with a muffled yawn.

In no time, he was curled up behind you, his large arm thrown over your waist and hand splayed out over your stomach. His nose was buried into the back of your head, unable to wipe the pleased smile off of his features.

It was relatively easy to drift to sleep, given how exhausted the two of you already were.

Not even three hours later, with the two of you already deep in slumber, there came a loud crashing from the front of the house. Someone was breaking in.

Immediately, you sat up in the bed, slipping out from beneath Tangerine’s heavy arms and the blanket. The cold air kissed your bare skin, sending a shiver spidering up your spine. You reached beneath your pillow to brandish a small emergency dagger you kept between the mattress and the headboard. Your husband also startled awake at the loud sound, eyes tired yet wide, grappling for a gun he kept beneath the bed.

“Stay in here,” he whispered, striding forward to the bedroom door, left slightly ajar.

“Like hell I am,” you quietly gruffed back, hot on his heels.

Knowing that there was no stopping you, Tangerine blew out a breath and the both of you crept closer, light on your feet. With no warning, Tan shouldered the door open and stepped out in one fluid motion, lining the gun up with the intruder.

A second later, he immediately lowered the weapon with a long string of exasperated curses. You peered over his shoulder, tense muscles loosening upon seeing Tangerine’s brother, Lemon, frozen in front of the broken window. His lips were twisted into a grimace and his eyes were as wide as saucers. There were shards of glass glimmering in his dark hair.

“What the fuck, man?” your husband erupted, immediately clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it into the waistband of his sweats. “Are you daft? The fuck did you break my window for?”

“I was looking for you! Never heard a peep from you two after your missions. I just assumed the worst!” he exclaimed. For a moment, Lemon’s dark eyes flickered to you. “Hi, Y/N. Look lovely, by the way.”

You crossed your arms, more amused than anything. “Hey, Lemon.”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ call us, then? Bloody fucking idiot! Going down and breaking my window like that,” he angrily muttered, stomping forward to inspect the damage. “You’re paying for this, you twat.”

Rearing back, Lemon snarled, “Oi! I did call you! Didn’t answer your phones, the neither of you. I thought something happened! Forgive me for worrying about my brother and my in-law!”

“The fuck you mean, I would get the fucking notification if you called me!” Tangerine hissed back, pressing the heels of his palms into his sleepy eyes. After a second, he reached down into his pocket, fishing out his phone. He pressed the power button once, then twice. A third time for good measure. “Well, fuck me. It’s dead.”

You hid a smile behind your palm. You married a complete, hot-headed idiot. With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you wiggled your fingers farewell and swiftly turned, yawning as you dragged yourself back into the room. “I’m going back to bed. You two behave yourselves.”

Both of them grunted goodbyes at your departure, before immediately carrying on with their arguments.

“Why didn’t you just call Y/N?”

A long pause. Lemon's eye twitched. “Didn’t think of that, to be honest with you… What are you, a fucking halfwit? Of course I called Y/N!”

"Oh, right, yeah, Y/N does put their phone on DND before bed. Right."

"Right."

Frowning, Tangerine barked out, “Still, you’re a fuckin’ idiot, you know that? I could’ve shot you!”

“Alright, alright, calm your tits. D’you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

“What, are you bloody mental?” Another pause. “Alright, fine. Just take your shoes off. Don’t want you tracking mud all over the place.”

Half an hour later, Tangerine crawled back into bed, settling himself behind you. You had fallen asleep already, but shifted with a pleasant hum when he pressed a ticklish kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Love you,” he whispered, tugging you closer to his chest. You drowsily murmured something incoherent in response, and Tangerine contentedly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#tangerine x reader #bullet train fanfiction #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff #tangerine imagines #tangerine drabbles #tangerine headcanon #bullet train tangerine #bullet train tangerine x reader

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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…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're the only person who calls him Tan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pardon?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tangerine frowns.

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

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

"I should have known," you whisper.

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

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

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

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

"And I want you to kiss me."

Your words almost knock Tangerine out.

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

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

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

You need to know he's here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you,"

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

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

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angeltorresgf · 2 years

Text

#hes not COVERED but #bullet train #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train tangerine #he’s so seggsy i wanna get him pregnant #his little pussy is mine #i need him

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queers-gambit · 5 months

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Shower Shenanigans

part one: Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: midnight callers turn your quiet night upside down, but at least it ends with you riding your stranger in the shower.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.7k+

note: nobody asked for this but he's my muse now

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected, in the shower, she's on top), blood, wounds, brain rot, author isn't British, probably setting up for part three, wonky brain doesn't care what warnings are missed.

A storm had rolled over Osaka, a steady thrumming at your hotel window creating a calming ambiance as you lit a couple of the candles you ordered from the front desk. Curled up on the tiny loveseat offered in the small living space, you flipped through your latest novel you grabbed before running into Tangerine at the train station. Speaking of, you glared at your phone for the hundredth time in an hour, feeling a sort of overwhelming dread that he hadn't called yet - or at the very least, texted.

Was it silly? Oh, you KNOW it was.

But he had said some really pretty things that rang in your ears on a haunting repeat the rest of the train ride. Then the whole taxi ride through Osaka, and the three days it's been since meeting him - he just wouldn't leave your conscious. Every meeting you had was vaguely interrupted by some sort of thought about your mysterious stranger, driving you up the wall.

Sure, you could call him, but the idea of calling a stranger for no reason other than to hear his voice felt a little too vulnerable to you. Yo could ask where he was, if he wanted to come for a visit - or hell, even before you departed Japan back for London, England, you could come see him... If he so wanted.

But your mind refused to let you dial his number, which was left in your recents after he had texted himself in the bathroom. The memory of your ex was still so fresh, making you feel silly for having such vivid, intense fantasies about a man you've met once. And for the love of Christ, you didn't even know his real name! Just his silly, fruity codename!

Man, if you hadn't been embarrassed before, the memory of moaning a fucking fruit surely made you cringe to the point you wanted the Earth to open up, swallow you whole, and never spit you out.

Your trip was soon to end with your departing flight tomorrow night, giving you just a day of leisure time in the city - but you didn't feel like doing much since the storm. Your book was interesting enough, keeping you entertained with a cart of hot food from room service within arms reach. Your tea was lukewarm by now, being much easier to drink, bowl of air-popped popcorn sat in your lap. Over the sounds of thunder, there was a knock at your door.

More like a banging, but hey, logistics. This was odd considering it was close to nine in the evening and you hadn't called for anything.

With a sigh, you marked your page and stood; annoyed by the continuous knocking, oversized tee shirt falling back over your thighs, socked feet stuffing into your slippers before traveling to the door. You called in Japanese, "Who is it?"

There was a small scraping, making your brows furrow and call your question again - but with much more urgency. "'S me, love, open the door, please," a raspy, British accent croaked seemingly through the crack. You left the chain lock in place, slowly opening the door a fraction to discover Tangerine - bloodied to high hell - leaning on the doorframe of your hotel room with two other bloody men behind him.

"What the fuck? Jesus Christ," you hissed, shutting the door, snapping the chain off and yanking it open once more. "Get in here, are you okay?" You asked, gasping right after when Tangerine stumbled a little, making you catch him; assualting your sinuses with the smell of citrus, metallic blood, and cigarette smoke. "All right, all right, you're safe now, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you muttered, helping him over your shoulders and into your decently spacious hotel room. "C'mon, you two! Step lively before you trigger hotel security!"

You shuffled your stranger into the room and deposited him on the sofa; hearing his grunt of exaggerated pain. You looked at the others, sighing as you moved things out of the way, inviting the other two men to sit around the furniture. You tried not to worry about the cleaning bill you would surely get for all their blood.

"Jesus Christ, did you get shot?" You asked, seeing the fleshy wound in his shoulder that was very poorly staunched.

"That arsehole did it," he panted, pointing at the blonde stranger.

"Hi," the arsehole waved, "it was an accident, for whatever it's worth. I, uh... I have bad luck, don't really like guns," he shrugged meekly.

"You lot look like hell," you sighed, shaking your head and standing to your feet to take a few steps away. You asked over your shoulder, "Guess I shouldn't bother asking what happened?"

"Train wreck," the man Tangerine had been with earlier answered.

You blinked in shock, the men all wincing as they were seemingly finally able to relax. Only now, you noted they were all in the same clothes as days ago, just tattered, torn, burnt and singed, soaking wet from the storm, stained with blood. You looked at Tangerine, demanding, "Is that why you told me to get off the train? You were gonna crash it!?"

"No, no, darlin', that wasn't the plan," Tangerine coughed, head tilted back. "Just... Happened."

"Call it his bad luck, huh?" You shook your head and moved for the hotel's phone, dialing the front desk and waiting. When they answered, the cheery front desk girl asked how she could help and you asked her what first aid supplies the hotel kept stocked. She answered and you asked if you'd be able to get enough for three kits - claiming you were practicing for a medical school final. She was more than happy to oblige, telling you her brother did much of the same, and she'd send the kits right up.

Thanking her, you hung up, and turned back for room. You found a pair of shorts and hopped into them for modesty, using your ice bucket to fill with water, grabbing whatever hand towels and washcloths you could. You set the bucket to the coffee table, dipping the cloths in for the two strangers, asking, "You guys wanna clean up a bit?"

"Please," the blonde wheezed.

You nodded, handing over the wet towels and moved the bucket a little closer for them to reach. You introduced yourself to them, offering a smile, turning for Tangerine and taking a seat beside him to start cleaning him up. "Lemon," your companion's counterpart introduced.

"Ladybug."

"More fucking codenames," you mumbled, shaking your head, trying to mop up Tangerine's forehead. "Jesus, fuck, sweetheart, what did you do? Bash your head through a glass wall?"

"Window, actually," he mumbled, reaching up to caress your wrist and cracking his eyes open. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Hush," you smiled, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You guys are gonna need showers and new clothes, huh?" You looked at the other two, who were scattered around the room to use whatever reflective surface they could find.

"That'd be nice," Ladybug nodded. "Anyone any cash?"

You sighed, "I've got you guys, 's all right."

As you reached for the bucket of warm water again to rinse the washcloth and wring it out, you missed the looks Lemon and Tangerine exchanged; both mildly impressed with your generosity and kindness. Certainly, someone who would never get tangled up in the lot of them on regular circumstances.

The knock at your door made the entire room still, you sparing them a skeptical look and reprimanding as you stood, "Relax, it's just the supplies."

Still, Lemon and Ladybug made sure they were out of sight as Tangerine just couldn't move once deposited on the sofa. You greeted the service worker, strategic in how wide you opened the door, and accepted the supplies; thanking the man, closing the door, and depositing the materials on your still-made bed.

However, a new thought occurred and you picked up the phone once more. When it connected to the front desk, you asked if your conjoining room was vacant - and to your shock, it was. You asked if they would add the room to yours because your friend suddenly decided to join you (not a total lie), and some 20 minutes later, you were giving Ladybug and Lemon their own room keys. You propped the conjoining door open, the two men using the first aid kits and the other room's shower as you got Tangerine to a point you didn't think he would bleed out.

"Okay, sweetheart," you caressed his jaw, "I'm gonna pop over to the shops across the street, okay? Grab you guys some necessities."

"You don't have to, we shouldn't burden you like this," he whispered.

"You guys can't walk around in these clothes," you chuckled.

"Have been."

"Yeah, on the side of the road, huh?"

"Back of a tangerine truck for a bit, too," he chuckled.

"Well, that's fitting. Look, just," you sighed, leaning in to peck his lips softly, "stay here, rest, eat, I'll be right back. Get a shower if you feel able, yeah?"

He nodded, just looking you over for a moment. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head, "I didn't know where else t'go. Whole plan went t'shit, we were out of options, love, just... Didn't know where t'turn ta."

"How'd you even find me?"

He shrugged, "I have my ways."

"Well, that's doesn't vaguely make you sound like a stalker." Another peck to his amused smile. "I'll be right back, promise," you stood, found a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and changed your shoes before heading out the door.

Was it stupid to leave three strangers alone in your hotel room? For sure. But you still went, you were a caring person by nature and the idea of making them fend for themselves felt wrong.

Especially after the state they showed up in, Tangerine's soft words about not knowing where to go; you just wanted to help since you had the ability to.

Across the street, splashing through puddles, you zipped around what was available and gathered three sets of sweatpants, shirts, jackets or hoodies, and figured their shoes were fine for now until they could change them later. You grabbed a few snacks and bottles of water, sports drinks, and energy drinks, paid, and made it back to your hotel room.

"Oh, blessings, you sweet girl!" Lemon gasped when you presented the change of clothes and snacks. "Oh, fuck yeah," he whispered to himself, taking the gift and going to change as you tossed Ladybug his own set.

When you found Tangerine, he was in the same place - but at least he didn't look worse. Just exhausted.

"Hey," you cooed, caressing his head and watching his eyes crack open.

"You're back," he smiled.

"Mhm," you hummed, "and you need a shower. C'mon, then you can get in bed, get some rest."

"Nah, love," he groaned when you took his wrists, "let's jus' go t'bed."

"Tan, you're absolutely disgusting right now, you'll feel better under the water. C'mon, there's a shower seat, you don't have to do anything, I'll help you."

He winced when you helped him on his feet, hobbling into the bathroom as Ladybug and Lemon were chowing down on whatever they could get their hands on. In the bathroom, you shut the door, set a clean towel on the counter, and turned to see him leaning on a wall, just watching you. You offered a soft smile, starting the shower to hea up, and then approaching him.

"Easy," you whispered, helping him unlatch his belt, step from his shoes, and then shed his trousers. His waistcoat followed, then his button-up, you gasping lightly, "Oh, fuck! Oh, my God. Yeah," you gently pet his side, prodding the dark wound, "you've got some broken ribs, sweetheart. Fuck's sake."

"That arsehole did that, too," he mused.

"Seriously? Damn, how'd you get your arse handed to yah by a lad named Ladybug?" You joked, dropping his boxers and pulling him from the wall. You made sure he was on the shower seat before stepping back and stripping yourself, joining him in the heat and getting to your knees.

With another washcloth, you gently suds over his body, the soap helping sweep away from grime. He let you work, scrubbing his feet, then working up his legs, rinsing, reapplying the soap, and continuing on your way. You washed his thighs and up his hips, to his waist, ignoring the way his cock stirred to life, bobbing into your elbow as it swelled. You were gentle over his bruises, the water feeling nice over your tired bodies; the soft scents of the soap soothing.

When you straightened up to wash his chest, you missed the way his eyes scanned over your soaking wet form. Feeling your hands on his collarbones, he reached down to seize your hips and heave - making you yelp. "The hell are you doing?" You gasped, needing to stabilize yourself on the wall and his non-shot shoulder.

"'S been three days too long, just wanted yah close," he whispered, sighing as his hands smoothed down your hips; gripping the flesh until indentations appeared.

You tisked, "You're hurt, you don't need t'fuckin' lift me. Use your words next time, won't you?"

He chuckled, "And what? Risk you sayin' no 'cause you don't wanna hurt me? Nah, love," he sighed. "Just wanted yah close, t'feel yah."

You hummed, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm?"

You held up the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into your hand before starting to lather it into his scalp. He groaned, hissed at a few intervals, but overall let you work your fingers through his curls; pulling out any knots, shards of glass, and loosening the dried blood.

"You all right?" You checked, lifted on your knees to work; breasts all but pressed into his face.

"Mhm," he hummed, coiling his arms around you so he could literally just press his face into your cleavage. You chuckled, giving him a quick cuddle as he pecked your skin slowly, and continuing your work. When you lowered yourself back to his lap, your bare cunt drug down his shaft, making you both groan. "Baby," he seethed through his teeth, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close, "please, just - get on me, yeah? Need yah - on a biblical level, darlin'."

"You're hurt," you weakly refused, your resolve barely hanging on by a thread.

"Not so hurt that I can't enjoy this, huh?" He argued, licking over your lips to halt all rational thought. "C'mon, love, we hiked it three days here - after a fuckin' train wreck. I would've dropped if not for the thought of you, seein' yah, touchin' you again. Don't even gotta move, just sit there, love."

"If I do, will you finally just sit still and let me clean you up?"

"Whatever baby wants, she'll have, swear it," he grinned, hoisting you into his arms so he could grip his throbbing cock, lower you, and line himself up until you were impaling yourself on him. "Jesus, fuck!" He snapped, mixing with your whimper at his impossible stretch. "Ah, you feel so fuckin' good, doll, this is it - this is what I needed, huh? All I fuckin' needed - fuck - right fuckin' here."

"Hush," you whispered with an embarrassed smile, glancing back. "I need the shower head."

"I got us," he answered, holding you tight and standing with a small grunt. He easily grabbed the shower head, handing it to you, letting you rinse his hair out as he turned to pin you against the wall with his hips for balance.

"This isn't just sitting," you mocked, soap flowing down his shoulders and chest. "Close your eyes, please," you whispered, wiping the frothy suds from his face as he did. "God, your curls are magnificent, seriously, why does God give the best qualities to men - who don't even appreciate what they have?"

He laughed lightly, "Gotta get your attention somehow."

"Mhm, these lashes? Not even a drop of mascara," you mused, pecking the tip of his nose while one hand held his jaw. "And this jawline? Baby, this alone could cut glass."

"Like your nipples, right?" He teased, nipping your collarbones; both acutely aware of your pebbled nips dancing across his flesh each time you moved. He chuckled, readjusting you when you reached to set the shower head back in the holder; making sure it could cascade over the bench still. "We done?" He asked softly.

"Nope, got the conditioner," you rolled your eyes, holding his shoulders when he moved back for the seat; still firmly inside you. When he sat again, you released a high-pitched breath when the position pushed him further into you; your legs folding beside his thighs to keep the ideal grip.

"In a second," he smirked, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "Just need this, yeah?" He spoke against your lips, licking into your mouth. "Been hiking with a fucking hard-on for days, love, just fuckin' need this," he hissed into your mouth, teeth raking over your bottom lip in a possessive bite. You moaned quietly, lost in the ministrations of kissing him like a drunk teenager, barely aware when he started moving your hips over him.

"Tan," you tried.

"C'mon, love, we both need it," he shook his head. "Tell me to stop and I will, but I think we both need this."

With a long sigh, you pet his cheek, deciding, "Fine, but we're taking it easy, you're still - " But then there was a loud knock at the bathroom door, Lemon calling your name in question. You slapped a hand over Tangerine's irritated mouth when he looked ready to yell his protest, answering, "What is it, honey, are you guys okay? What's wrong?"

"Yeah, just, uh... Can we order a couple things from room service? Bit starving, thinkin' something hot?"

"Oh, yeah, whatever you guys need!" You encouraged happily, Tangerine biting your palm and making your hand retract with a small whine and pout.

"Oi!" He called over the shower stream.

"Yeah?" Lemon was heard laughing.

"Don't run up her bill, mate!"

"It's okay," you whispered, pecking his forehead. "Get what you need, Lemon," you called, "but order Tangerine something to eat, too, please!"

"On it, love! Thank you!"

"Oh! Of course!" You beamed back at Tangerine, who offered you a mild look of annoyance.

"Now, why do that?" He asked, grinding your hips on his again. "Huh? Those two will eat you outta house and home, love."

"It's fine, you guys have been through a lot," you promised, connecting your lips in a long kiss. "Now, you wanna keep talking financials or put the rest of this hot water to use?"

"There's my girl," he grunted, standing from the bench to move fully under the water; pinning you to the wall again.

You grunted when you collided with the cold tile, but the warm tongue in your mouth was plenty distraction. You held his neck like it was your single tether to life, teeth clashing, tongues wagging, lips wet and creating obscene sounds the more intense the kisses turned.

"Fuck," you felt the air punch from your lungs when Tangerine pulled his hips back to start thrusting; brows furrowed together in concentration as he worked in and out of you at an already brutal pace. You didn't complain - he obviously needed this, and by God, it felt otherworldly.

"'Ats my girl, so fuckin' good for me," he muttered, needing this more than you have ever before; each hand holding a thigh to keep you spread open for his taking, hips hammering into yours as his balls slapped the apex of your cunt to echo around the room.

You felt incoherent when he picked up his speed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder when your head was thrown back as he worked you closer, closer, closer to your release. There was no thought in your mind, just Tangerine; drunk on his smell, taste, touch, never wanting this feeling to end.

Just outside the bathroom, Ladybug was accepting the room service order when he heard the messy, obscene noises coming from the bathroom; looking wide eyed at the closed door. Lemon laughed, "Might wanna walk away, Joburg, he don't like nobody listening in."

"Kinda hard to when they're that loud," he blanched when you released a pornographic moan as Tangerine readjusted his stance so his cock was piercing what felt like straight through you. Lemon laughed at Ladybug being startled so much he literally scurried away.

"C'mon, love," Tangerine panted.

"Go back," you moaned, pawing at his shoulders as you felt too slippery in this position.

"Huh?"

"Sit!" You insisted, him pulling back from the wall and backing up until the bench hit the back of his knees - dropping him. "There's my boy," you mocked, a hand on the wall, the other on his good shoulder, supporting you to vigorously ride him. You felt renewed energy now that he was obviously okay, only his bullet wound still weeping - something you'll patch up once out of the water.

"Oh, holy fuck," Tangerine moaned, louder than you would've thought; his head thumping back to the wall and losing all composure. "That's it, doll, keep like that - ohhh, fuck me!"

"Exactly what I'm doing, yeah?" You teased, moving your hand to his throat and keeping pressure enough not to fully choke his air supply, but enough to make him moan at the feeling.

His mouth dropped open as you rode him enthusiastically, feeling determined to reward him for coming all this way to track you down. Yeah, sure, for a moment, it was concerning, but now, you simply didn't care that three strangers had found your hotel room and now crashed with you.

Nothing mattered when this deliriously delicious cock was inside you.

"Jesus!" Tangerine moaned, hands to your hips to help you move, but it seemed the years in your youth as an equestrian was truly paying off. Call it muscle memory, but years after mastering the posting trot and the correct canter diagonal, you were riding Tangerine as if you'd drop dead if you didn't. And he felt it, he felt all of it. "Yeah, you're too good at this," he groaned, "so fuckin' good - Goddamnit - fuck me. Just like that, love, keep going - fuck, I'm right there."

You smirked, pushing his neck back so we was pinned to the wall now, his eyes locked with yours, mouth agape, your breasts bouncing with vigor. You squeaked when Tangerine braced his feet, his own hips thrusting up into you to match your movements; adding to both your mounting pleasures as the shower created a cloud of steam around you both in a welcomed lung-choking heat.

You honestly didn't mean to, but the absolute gut-wrecking pleasure you felt was enough for you to moan in Tangerine's ear, "Daddy."

It seemed the right word as Tangerine groaned in an echo, thrusting faster to the point you couldn't keep up. You could only moan, groan, squeak, cry-out as he jackhammered up into you - something that made Lemon and Ladybug exchange looks, gather their things, and rush back over to their adjoining room to leave you both a fraction of privacy.

"Yeah, tell Daddy how good it is," he seethed in your ear, opening his mouth, and biting down on your neck; hand tightly wound in your hair.

"So good."

"How good?"

"Too good, Daddy, please," you sobbed, braced on his shoulders and chest as his arms held you tight to let him thrust with abandon. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, yes, yes, yes," you praised, your orgasm rushing higher and higher to a new height. "Fuck," you moaned in his ear, "need this cock everyday. Went three days without, felt like I was losing my fucking mind."

"Feelin's mutual, love, so fuckin' mutual," he agreed, his cock swelling, "just needed t'get here, find yah again. Shit, fuck," he looked to where you were conjoined, praising, "gonna need yah home address - ain't no way we're goin' without one another, huh? Hey?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you squeaked, "there - there - there!"

His thumb pressed to your clit and you were done for. Grinding and humping into his hips, you crashed over the other side of your orgasm; feeling mildly limp as you slumped against his shoulder, letting Tangerine thrust a few more times.

"YES!" He shouted your name through clenched teeth, holding you with a vice grip as he bottomed out, balls contracting, squirting his full load inside you with shuddering breaths.

"Oh, my God," you sniffled, holding onto him as your legs were spent and you knew, the odds of you moving any time soon were slim to none.

"Yeah," Tangerine chuckled, leaning back to the wall as he panted; keeping hold of you. "Yah all right, love?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed, still absentminded.

"Yeah," he mused, pecking below your ear. "Just what the doctor ordered, huh?"

"Think the doctor would want your wound closed," you slowly sat off him, looking to the bloody hole and frowning as you pet around the irritated skin. He winced gently, making you frown, "Let's go, love, you need this tended to."

Only, when you dismounted, his cock flopping out of you once released, you tried to find your feet but only found the floor.

"C'mon, love, you just sit," he sighed, scooping you up and switching spots. He set you on the bench, stood, rinsed off under the water, readjusted the stream so it hit you a little better as he lathered conditioner into his curls with one arm.

"You're supposed to leave it sit for a bit," you tisked when he washed the conditioner out; shaking his curls.

"'S all right, still does the job."

"Your girlfriends never taught you haircare?"

He cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish as he avoided your eyes. "Never really had one outside of secondary school. Job doesn't make dating the easiest, yeah?"

You furrowed your brows gently, then nodded, "Okay, well, just means you've room to learn, right?"

"Yeah, sure. You gonna teach me, love?" He mused, slicking his hair back in the water before shutting it off; wringing a few strands out.

"Why not?" You smiled. "But you gotta teach me something in return."

"Hmm? What's that you wanna learn?"

"How to shoot a gun."

He offered you a long look, seemingly skeptical. You accepted his hand and got from the bench, squeezing when the weight of your body made them tremble lightly. Stepping out, you both dried off with towels as he offered, "Why d'you think I know how to shoot a gun?"

"Tellin' me that Ladybug fellow is the only one? That's fine, I can ask him," you quipped, making him instantly respond,

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, don't do all that, I'll teach yah, love."

You smiled softly, wrapping your hair in a towel and approaching him - still naked. "Thank you," you whispered, kissing his lips in a soft, sweeping motion that made him hum in the back of his throat and reach for your bare arsecheek. "Now, c'mon, let's get you stitched up before you go startin' something you can't finish."

"You met me, love? I always finish," he gave a cheeky squeeze.

"Mhm, might be the last time, too, with this blood loss. Huh?"

He relented in a head nod and wrapped the towel around his hips, watching you shrug on a fluffy white robe and tie the sash. He took your hand, laced your fingers together, and exited the bathroom - only to come to a shocking halt.

There was blood trailed all over the room, medical supplies strewn around, and several food wrappers. "Told yah, love," Tangerine sighed.

"It's okay," you smiled, "they'll clean it."

"You're so sure?"

"I'm very persuasive," you eased. "C'mon, sit," you ushered him back to the bloodied sofa, figuring damage was already done and anymore blood wouldn't make much of a difference. You grabbed whatever material you could, snapping on rubber gloves and taking a deep breath. "Ready?" You asked Tangerine.

"One more kiss and you can have at it," he sighed, leaning in until you met him happily; offering several swipes of his tongue before resting his forehead on your own.

"It'll sting for a bit," you warned, holding the bottle of alcohol.

"C'mon, darlin', 's all right, I can handle - OH! FUCKS SAKE!" He cursed when you poured the disinfectant over his bullet wound.

In the next room, Ladybug and Lemon shared a look before snickering as if two juvenile boys at a sleepover. And honestly? Spot the difference.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine smut #tangerine imagine

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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 2 years

Text

Phone Fun

Pairing :: Tangerine x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, SMUT/NSFW, Phone sex, Masturbation(F&M)

Word Count :: 1310

Summary :: Tangerine’s been gone for a while and you each miss each other a lot

A/N :: I KNOW I’VE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE EVER BUT we should have all accepted by now this is the type of person I am. I am sorry. Please forgive me for my laziness.

It’s not funny like at all how quickly I became a slut for this man. I even bought the book Bullet Train so I could get more of him. I also might make a small/mini series for him bc I think it’s hilarious if he dated someone who had no clue he was an assassin.

Tangerine is a professional. He does his job by the book(at least to the best of his abilities, given his line of work), quick and easy. He isn't the type to make mistakes or take risks. With that being said, he does everything he can to keep his work life and private life completely separate, even if that means lying to the person he loves most.

You hadn’t the slightest clue as to who he actually was. Everything you knew about him was an intricately fabricated lie of a life he created for you to believe. For starters, he told you his name was Gordon, and Lemon’s was Thomas. Lemon was happy he used names from Thomas The Tank Engine but would’ve preferred they had gone by Donald and Douglas since they’re brothers. Then, he told you he and Lemon both worked for a private security service firm that worked high-profile jobs. With this lie, you never questioned when he traveled to foreign countries for various periods of time. However, this also led you to presume he worked somewhat normal hours.

On more than one occasion, you called Tangerine while he was in the middle of work, and being the worry-wort he was when it came to you, he immediately answered after scrambling to find a decently quiet place to talk to you. Luckily, the calls were never because anything had happened to you or you somehow magically learned about the double-life he led and now wished to cut all ties with the contract-killer. Typically it was because you simply missed him and walked to talk to him for a bit, making sure he was okay.

Lemon always thought a simple text would have sufficed rather than a call. When he told Tangerine to tell you so, he received a menacing glare in response. After that, he completely threw out the thought of convincing him to tell you the truth.

Today’s call was not normal though.

“God am I glad you called.” Tangerine sat down on his bed, glad Lemon was out grabbing food so he could have a private chat.

You were able to hear clearly through the phone his exhaustion. “Was it rough today?”

He let out a deep sigh, earning a small chuckle. “You have no idea love.”

“You’ll be home soon, right?”

“Yeah, in two days.”

“I miss you so much.”

He was gone for nearly a month, jobs booked back-to-back. Before this, the longest he had been away was barely under two weeks.

Tangerine was looking forward to engulfing you in a large hug and pressing his lips against you in a passionate kiss. You never admitted it, but you became quite needy whenever he was gone. He never had any complaints since the sex when he got when he came back was always amazing. He couldn’t wait to toss you onto the bed, though he doubted if you two would make it to your room before you started your fun.

“This is gonna sound silly but…” You were hesitating. He was sure you had that shy smile you always put on when you were embarrassed right now. “I’m only wearing one of your button-ups right now.”

Only. That word rang in his head like a bell. “Oh really?”

Even though you knew he was returning soon, you were still incredibly lonely. Without thinking you grabbed one of his shirts and immediately a small smile formed due to the familiar scent that lingered. He didn’t use harsh over-bearing cologne that had multiple ingredients mixed creating a headache of a smell. Rather, he used a simple citrus herbal mix. Hints of orange and lemon hid under a woodsy scent with a slight spice.

Then, a slightly devious plan formed in your head, leading you to this very moment.

“Mhm.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile even though he couldn’t see you.

“And what are you doing right now?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I think you’re waiting in bed for me to come fuck you.” The sudden drop in tone shot a tingle down your spine, the warmth between your thighs growing.

“Ding-ding.”

“Have you started touching yourself?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted to tease you.”

A dark laugh left his lips. “You know I don’t enjoy being teased love.”

“Exactly.”

Whenever you made the reckless decision to tease him, he would often end up turning the tables and turned you into a moaning mess. Sometimes you did it on accident, other times it was on purpose because you loved how worked up he’d get.

You let out a soft hum, starting by massaging your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow so you know everything I’m doing.” You pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.

You always knew how to turn him on. It was truly a gift you had. Hearing your small satisfied hums, he began to grow hard and found himself palming the bulge in his pants that was forming.

One of your hands traveled downwards to start rubbing your wet folds. “Hnng...” You imagined he was here with you, taking care of your needs. You rubbed a small circle around your clit, doing your best to enjoy the moment instead of speedily making yourself cum.

Hearing a small zip and fabric moving, you knew he was doing the same. He began stroking his length, remembering the tightness of your cunt.

You were growing wetter by the second, so when you moved your other hand down to insert a finger a soft sucking sound of the mess you were creating was now heard. This caused his dick to twitch, eager to be wrapped around you.

You stopped rubbing your clit momentarily to stick in a second finger and begin pumping, hoping the wet sounds would excite him. Precum began beading at the top of his cock so he used it to help lubricate his shaft. Going at a pace that matched yours, his grip was tight but paled in comparison to your cunt.

Both of you could hear the other’s desperation in your moans. You each wanted to touch one another so badly but had to suffice with the situation at hand.

Deciding you needed more friction, you pulled your fingers out and sat up.

“What are you doing now, love?”

Shamelessly you replied, “I’m going to ride your pillow darling.”

“Fuck.” His balls tightened.

As your hips began rocking back and forth on his pillow, he began to thrust up in the air, each of you pretending you were riding him now.

Growing closer, you started rubbing your clit again, your fingers moving much harsher than before. He was also getting ready to cum, so he quickly threw off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt so that way they wouldn’t get ruined.

Your paced hips grew sloppy and your panting much louder. His groaning was becoming deeper, pumping and thrusting as if he was fucking.

“Ahh!”

The heat building in your stomach was begging to be released. You stopped moving, straddling the pillow with your hand between your legs. Your hand moved quickly across your clit until the tingling sensation finally broke. Your entire body tensed up, continuing to press firmly against the sensitive nub while your pussy clenched to release.

With his own muscles tense, hearing your cry of pleasure his cock twitched again, finally ready to cum. His tight sack finally contracted, releasing hot shots of cum that landed right on his abdomen. He released his hold, his cock continuing to jump as his entire load came out.

The only thing that could be heard now were the small breaths you were each taking to compose yourselves.

“Well this was fun,” You said while flopping onto your back.

“Fun, but not as good as the real deal.”

“Two more days until then.”

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