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[merthosus]

Callous drunk

rtcs-stuff hat gefragt:

Hi love, I couldn’t directly find if your requests are open but if so, would you want to write a smutty Tangerine fic where they end up drunk after a mission and some sexual desires come rushing to the surface?💕

„This whole thing is so fucked up!”, I scream in tangerines direction, without earning the tiniest bit of attention. “You should have seen his whining face, how the life faded out his eyes, as he begged me to let him live”, Tangerine chuckles. He looks at me when he noticed, that I wasn’t laughing with him. “Ou come on you killjoy the mission is over, what crushed your good mood?”, he asks me with a straight face. My arms are resting on my knees and my head is hanging low. Every little nerve in my body is tense and my limbs are shaking. I dig my fingers into my jeans to stop the constant shivering.

It was the first mission on a bullet train and I promised to myself, that this would also be the last. “I can’t get those pictures out of my head!”, I say and grab the sides of my head. “You are working ten years now in the commission, what could have been so bad, that it shocked you this much?” tangerine asks. My Order was to kill a mass murderer, so I did, successfully. He was traveling in the train with us, waiting to get back home. “I was trying to find him tan and I did”, I whisper to him.

Tangerine stands up from his crouching position and stands in front of me as he listens to my story. “The client told me to kill him in first sight, so no big harm could have been done”, I shutter. Tangerine pinches his eyebrows together and waits for me to continue. “He was in the kids wagon, tan”, my words disappear into the quiet sounds of my painful sobs. “Oh god”, Tangerine whispers. “I killed him in front of them”, I say him, now in a louder tone. I am trying to hold everything together while looking into his face, with watering eyes.

“No we are not-”, I try to stop him while letting my head fall to my shoulder. But he interrupts me with a little shush. I smile at him as he goes on one knee before me and shows me the bottle. He is still taller than me and covers the light behind him, coming from a broken lightbulb. He changes into a darker tone and presents me the bottle like a waiter with a hand behind his back. “Madame, I have no fucking idea which expensive liquid this bottle contains, but I will promise you, this will take your mind out of other things”, he says like a supplier which tries to sell me some overpriced alcohol. I smile at his attempt to distract me.

His lips turn into a proud smile, as he noticed that his attempt succeeded. “Got cha”, he says before he turns to search for two shot glasses. As he found some, he stumbled back to me and lets his back slide down right beside me. He pushes one shot glass into my hand and pours some of the liquid into my glass. Even though I didn’t know what was in it I could tell as soon as the liquid touched the tip of my tongue. “Fuck, this is vodka”, I say as I try to not spit it out again. “You better get used to it, we are not allowed to leave the train the whole night”, he says.

“The corpse of the target is need to be protected”, he mocks the client, who got us the order. I laugh and drown the disgusting fluid. Tangerine wastes no time to pour me in another one. It has been years since I drank with a friend, my job has been my first priority for the last years. There never was much time for friends in my life, so doing this now with Tangerine feels kind of good. Tangerine must feel the same. Shot for stilt I slowly begin to forget the rotting corpse in the wagon next to us and I begin to only focus on Tangerines voice.

We are currently in a very intense game of ‘two truths, one lie’ and I am telling Tangerine about the time I once tried to put a fork into my power outlet. “No you did not”, he says in completely disbelieve. A strand of hair is hanging now loosely from his head. His hair otherwise tightly gelled back, was now loose. “I tried to see if the rumors were true, for the record, they were”, I tell him lulling. “These are not rumors, it’s physics. How old were you?”, he asks, still trying to figure out if I was lying. “One year ago”, I tell him. “No this must be the lie, tell me the next”, he demands, while shaking his head. “Ok fine, let me think”, I tell. I look in his sleepy, half open eyes. He is still laughing at my little story.

It makes my heart flutter a little, but as fast the thought got into my head it already has left. He was so near, that I could feel his breath on my skin. Everything was heavy and moving felt like the hardest mission of my life. After the fifth shot, I stopped counting. “Ok, second! I hate your porn mustache”, I tell him while looking at him and waiting for a reaction. I tried to maintain my serious face while I wait. “Oh hell no, you love it”, he says outraged. “It looks ridiculous”, I say. He plays offended and puts a hand on his chest, like someone just shot him.

“I can tell that you are lying. I am not blind, I can see how you are looking at me”, he tells me as he gets closer. “Don’t think too much of you Pedro pascal”, I tell him while trying to contain my senses. He scoffs and lays his head drunkly on his shoulder. “You just compared me with the hottest man ever seen on television, and I should believe that you don’t like my mustache?”, he asks. “You are very self convinced, aren’t you?”, I ask. Suddenly something changes. “I am bored, let’s play something else”, he requests. “Don’t you wanna know, what the lie was?”, I ask him. “Oh honey we both know what the lie was”, he says.

“Go on, what do you wanna play?”, I ask as he pours me in another shot of vodka. I can’t explain it, but the drunker I get “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven”, he tells and suddenly I choke at the liquid in my mouth. Tangerine watches every little move I make. I look at him. “But it makes no sense we are only two”, I tell him. “I know”, he says. He grabs my cheek with his big hands and looks drunkly into my eyes. The submissiveness in his eyes in killing me. Suddenly everything gets warm and the only source of coolness are his cold rings, which are pressing onto my skin.

The last braincell which is left after all the alcohol, is telling me to stop him. Work and private life should not be compared. But the neediness between my legs is telling me to close the little gap between our lips. “But we don’t have a closet”, I whisper to him. “We don’t need a closet”, he says and lets his lips collide with mine. I whimper at the sudden contact with him. I never shared much physical contact with him. I grab his hair and try to push his face further into mine. As our saliva is mixing, I let my hand roam over his upper body. I suddenly feel his hands on my head.

He pushes me onto his lap. We both shudder as our groins collapse. “Fuck”, he huffs onto my lips. I feel my pants getting wet from his words. He nibbles at my lips like a starved man. He grabs my waist and pushes me further down at his clothed dick. I silent his moan by continuing to kiss him. Feeling him getting harder by every second Is making me loose my mind. Suddenly he pushes my head back and pulls me by my hair. He begins to suck at my sensitive skin at my throat. The only thing I can hear is his fast breath all over my heated skin and my loud whimpers.

„God you taste like heaven“, he says and licks from my collarbone um to my chin. The warmth of his tongue is wandering down to my legs, which are now trying to push him more against me. The sudden impact to his member lets him shiver. His pants somehow became like a jail to his already throbbing dick. His hands grab my waist tighter and my hands glide down to his chest. I feel his heavy breath, which is going up and down. As his Finger hits one of my ticklish spots I squirm in his hands and put more weight on him. Suddenly he stops kissing me and lets his head fall back onto the wall, a trembling moan escapes his lips. He frowns like he’s in pain but his moans and groans tell me otherwise.

The hard feeling of him against my clit, makes me rub me slightly against him. I can’t take it anymore and grab to his vest. I try to take it off but the still drunken braincells aren’t giving me control over my fingers. He helps me taking his vest off. I try to grab one of his shirt Botton but he grips my ankle. My impatience kills me so I look begging in his eyes. „Before you do that you need to tell me the truth about my moustache“, he says. I give him a look which says ‚seriously?‘.

„If you don’t let my hand go, I am gonna rip open this shirt, you are testing my patience“, I say and try to grab his shirt. But my fingertips just travel down his stomach. As a revenge I move around and try to apply more pressure to his clothed dick. „Mhm“, he groans. His grip on my ankle loosens and I get better access to his shirt. „Cunning“ , he whispers in my ear. I continue to take of his shirt and my hand slides under the fabric. He looks at me and I stare right back at him. "i love your moustache“, I say and his lips form into a satisfied grin. Suddenly he grabs my cheeks again and kisses me. The impact is so big that we both slowly slide down the wall. 

part 2?

[merthosus]

I knew I was right

Summary: You are very stressed, because of the long train ride and Tangerine does his best to help you out

My spice rate: 1/5🌶️ (Fingering/Public)

The only thing you see are the blurred faces of passers by. Most of the time you don't even make the effort to open you eyes. It wouldn't even matter if you did anyway. the Train is so fast you can't see what's going on behind these windows. You are stressed, very stressed. Not of the fact that you are trapped in this small room with dozens of other unknown people (although the more you think about it the more it stresses you) its the constant grumbling and complaining from the person next to you. You could compare him with a five year old child, which is incessant asking their parents when they will arrive. But with Tangerine it's even more stressful. When he gets bored you can't just play board games with him or bring him a juice box, he's a grown man after all.

You need to listen to all his little insults he is making about you, to not fall asleep from all this boringness. Even though you would like that to happen. You try to sleep yourself, even if the constant shifts from him in his seat are successfully preventing you from doing so. You ball your hands in fists to not scream at him. The last few days you were travelling with him, not on purpose of course, you were hired. Having the same job as him is pretty exhausting, even though you never work with him. Of course you did a few times in the past, you are like the placeholder for Lemon. You don't like being a placeholder for anyone or anything but the salary for this job just looked to delicious.

For three days you are now working with him, trying to find a mass murderer. Having to deal with an unhappy child for three days in a row is very hard. Your nerves are strained, so strained that the littlest inconvenience could rip the band and with that your capability to not scream at him.

Since the last one hour you try to fall asleep, your head is leaning against the train window, which is very uncomfortable. And just when you thought you could let yourself loose you get smacked on the forearm. You startle and look worried to Tangerine. "What?", you ask. "Do you know when we will arrive? I have enough of sitting here in this shitty train", he asks.

And that was it. You stare him perplexed in the eyes. "You ask me if I know when we will arrive? YOU ARE A FUCKING ADULT. GET YOUR SHITTY PHONE OUT AND LOOK YOURSELF, YOU STUPID PRICK!", you yell and he looks a little bit confused.

"Have I ripped the princess out of her beauty sleep, or why are you acting like such a litte bitch?", he asks with a pulled up eyebrow, which normally made you laugh. "You know what, fuck you!", you say and lay against your seat. "That's much of build up stress which makes you say that, so I am going to be nice to you, but just for you to know you definitely need to get laid", he says.

You're head turns to him and you look at him in disgust. "You are an asshole you know", you say. "I may be an asshole but I tell the truth, you are just bitchy because you couldn't get off the last days", he chuckles. "Says the one who is behaving like a little kid", you give back. "Oh come on don't act like you are not pissed off, of sitting in a train for three hours", he says.

"You are irritating", you say and get back to your sleeping position. "You are just pissed off by the fact that I am always right", he says. He may be right. The last few days weren't the best and the worst for you was that you couldn't get yourself off. The stress you were exposed to over the last weeks are still lasting heavy on your shoulders. Of course you would never tell him that he was right.

Night

Your eyes are heavy and you nearly scream, when you pulled your head off the train window. Your neck feels so sore it could fall off. The whole train is covered in dark light. A few iPads and phones make the only light. You look beside you and see a snoring Tangerine who is leaning against his seat. His neck will hurt more than yours when he wakes up.

You pat at the table, trying to find the water bottle in your constant state of blindness. Carefully to not wake Tangerine up. You finally find it after a few other pats and take a full sip out of it. You thought about what you were doing now, because of the fact, that Tangerine is blocking your way out of your seat. The next thin you are checking is your phone.

02:37am

To get more comfortable you take the backpack, which is laying under your seat and take your shorts out. Carefully you are trying to change and you pull your sweater over. You quietly pull your pants down and slide on the more convenient shorts. You notice how every touch on your legs makes you shiver. You touch yourself pretty often, but you never did it when someone was sitting beside you.

You check once more if Tangerine was sleeping before you let your hands slide inside of your pants. You could tell before that you were wet but you were never this wet. The long time you couldn't touch yourself makes this now much more intense. You are biting your underlip to not let any noice out of your mouth. In circling motions you let your fingers trace around your folds.

In pleasure you let your head fall back. Suddenly you feel a hand grip your arm. You immediately stop your motion and don't move a finger. Your chest is moving fast up and down and you are struggling to hold your breath. Before you can say anything the hand on your arm travels down to your hand. Your eyes are tracing the outlining of the fingers, which are disappearing in your pants.

The moment one finger is touching your clit you let out a whimper. You feel a hot breath on your ear. "I knew I was right", he whispers. Your eyes grow wider, as he leaves kisses down your neck.

Part 2?