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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining.

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression.

But something good did happen – you happen, of course.

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago!

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi.

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses.

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy.

— And she wasn’t?

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you.

— No.

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it.

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay.

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to.

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route.

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games.

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military.

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this.

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material.

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people.

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine.

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model.

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic.

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous.

The problem is – he knows that he can have you.

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize.

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is.

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines.

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir?

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you.

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money.

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again.

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay?

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger.

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean.

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much!

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert?

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control.

— No. Just coffee.

— Sugar?

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure.

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes.

— Ja. Thank you.

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out.

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half.

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here.

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him.

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes.

— Here is your coffee. Anything else?

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle.

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country.

You still want to ruffle his hair.

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his.

— Nein, thank you.

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right?

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died.

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting.

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament.

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not.

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days.

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly.

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you.

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it.

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills.

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too.

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir.

— Don’t wander at night again.

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts.

— I won’t. Promise.

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that.

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit.

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go.

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

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#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere cod #fem reader

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velvetti · 1 year ago

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Taming a wild rabbit.

T/W: dubcon/noncon, gunplay, drugging, not yet proofread.

Remake to: A mole was found

(Fic layout inspired by @miyuuuki ^^)

The sky is clear today, thanks to that, Blake was able to buy some desserts. He was in a good mood after his work, even when the corner of his shirt was stained by a small drop of blood. He bought a few slices of top quality cake from many different flavors, paying with his credit card as if what he bought wasn't extravagant.

He quickly heads home after that, opening the door and greeted by a wide hug from you, your arms wrapped around his torso, the leash of your collar dangels as you move. After recovering from his shock a few short moments after, he hugs you back and you said with a wide smile.

"Welcome back, Blake!"

Blake looks at the collar on your neck before leaning in, saying in your ear, his lips curving into a smirk

"I'm home."

"I don't think it's weird..."

"Don't be stupid, who is it?"

Said the two men, both wearing a suit but one in his mid-twenties while the other look to be at least 60 with white hair and a beer belly. You lean against the wall nearby as the two men talked about your next mission, your arms crossed while trying to come up with any new strategy.

You have officially started your job as a spy about a year ago, at first it seemed like a dream job where you get to be sleathy and wear suits 24/7 but in reality, it's nothing different than a gamble to try to gain even the equivalent of a grain of rice amount of information.

It's nothing different than throwing your entire life anyway for "the greater good" to have a slim chance of actually winning or accomplishing something. You would probably be better off actually gambling with the chances that you have. At least you get paid well for every job you take.

Meanwhile, the two men in suits were still negotiating. The younger man was your agent, you wouldn't usually talk to him unless you need his assisstant, while the older one was your client. The moment your agent opened the suitcase to check the amount of money the client provided you, the older man started saying.

"And you know...There's been rumours going aroun-"

The man couldn't finished his sentence before he gets cuts off by another man in suit, the man's face is covered by a black fedora. He walks into the room casually as he asks "What rumours?". The simple question caused the client to panic almost immediately and turns back with a fearful expression, a bang went off in the horror of your eyes and your agent was shot in the forehead, eliminating him instantly. You grab your weapon and point your gun at the mysterious man as he holds the client hostage by a gun at the older man's cheek.

You yelled at him to not shoot, gaining a simple reply and a smirk from the mysterious guy.

"Do you know me?"

You mutter your reply, your tone is filled with cautiousness, a cold sweat runs down your forehead.

"Blake..."

The man simply looks down at you with an annoyed glance.

"You're only here because I escaped, and my boss is furious."

Suddenly your client started screaming and yelling at the fedora-wearing man, to shut up and let him go. Which you admit, was a terrible choice of action.

"Shut up."

The fedora hat wearing man clicked his tongue, pressing the nuzzle against the client's back and fire.

The man doesn't seem to spare you even after killing both your agent and your client, he aims his gun at you at the exact moment you aimed yours at him. You thought this was gonna be a stand off, just for your gun to be greeted with a bullet, the man missed the shot but at least he managed to knock the gun out of your hand.

He exploits the moment of your shock to push you against the wall, each hand holding your wrists back and looking down at you. You could hear him say very faintly, almost like a whisper.

"You have a cute face"

The words don't move you however, you resist the urge to call him a pervert since in this situation when you're facing a guy with a gun, it's best to not provoke any aggressive chain of behaviour.

"Where's your boss' HQ? Tell me and I'll let you go"

The man said. Did this guy seriously think you'll sell out your entire company just so you could survive? Even if you survive, the company would probably find a way to bite you back even harder. In conclusion, this man can suck your dick and go find the information himself.

You replied with just that, "Like I'll tell you, glasses. Go to hell."

However, that seemed to be the wrong answer as the man doesn't say anything at first, he looks at you with the definition of a blank expression before it turns into a frown. With minimal effort, he knee kicked you in your stomach and held you up by your arm, that kick alone was enough to knock you out. If you were a normal person, you would've coughed out blood from that.

"Stupid boy. I wished I could have killed you."

You woke up in a strange place, the first thing that hit your eyes was the dark coloured wall and ceiling. You sit up and try to rub your eyes, realising that you have now been handcuffed. You look around to see where you are, your head filled with questions but no definite answers. The only clue you had was a few tabs of pills on the table nearby and the black fedora hat that the man was wearing before.

The clues didn't help in finding an escape route but it at least let you understand the current situation a little better.

Your line of thought is quickly cut off by the sound of the shower ending, following the sound of the bathroom door opening. From your surprise (are you really surprised though?), Blake walks out from the bathroom, topless while wearing some black pants, a white towel hanging over his shoulder and one of the identical pill tabs in his hand.

He glances at you, saying with a smiling expression.

"Oh, you're awake? Sooner than expected. Is it because I'm getting weaker or you're getting stronger?"

He doesn't even seem to acknowledge your internal panic as he didn't look at you after saying his sentence, his hand popping a pill from the tab before tossing it in his mouth.

Your reaction speed didn't prepare you for the sudden kiss he placed on you, he used his tongue to force open your mouth and push the pill over to you, forcing you to swallow it by forcibly deepening the kiss in by pushing the back of your head in.

Out of self defense, you bit his tongue harshly, hard enough for it to bleed but it wasn't enough to cut Blake's tongue off permanently. As expected, he pushed you down on the bed right after what you did, but he didn't seem upset. He licks his lips, seemingly savoring the irony taste of his blood and saying again, his voice makes you want to punch him square in the face despite it being the same tone as before.

"You could bite back... How adorable, my little rabbit thinks it can scare me. Just a small warning cutie, your struggle turns me on, so stay still and be a good boy, alright?"

You try to cough out the pill he made you swallow, but it seemed to be too late as your mind suddenly went blank, your vision going blurry as if you've knocked down 20 bottles of wine. Tears are already forming in the corner of your eyes, the effect of the pull caused your body to become all weak and shaking. You mutter a question about the pull through gritted teeth, getting a reply from Blake while he holds both of your wrists up.

"Oh don't worry, I didn't poison you. Ever heard of aphrodisiac, my darling?"

Of course, it is that damn thing, makes sense why the tab pills have 'A' marked on it. You let out a deep sigh, sending Blake a glare out of spite. While you weren't paying much attention, he had already started playing with your chest with his mouth, a single lick was enough to harden your nipple.

You were about to cuss at him, but the moment you opened your mouth, Blake pushed his lips against yours again. Your body was already greatly weakened by the pill, so all you could do was frown and let out a few noises to try to get Blake to quit it.

This situation is way more romantic than imagined, you expected him to be rough and thrust inside in one go without any foreplay, at least you won't have to go through anymore pain.

You were turned on your stomach by Blake after the kiss. Your body got goosebumps upon feeling some kind of cold liquid on your crack, a few drops even getting inside you, gaining a small uncontrolled whine from your mouth. Blake kept quiet, his eyes stayed on your hole and you could hear the sound of a zipper.

Blake thrusts two fingers inside you and leans forward to place a kiss on your nape, nibbling on your neck. The two fingers slide in and out of you, the action is surprisingly gentle for a guy like Blake. When he felt you were ready, he gripped both of your shoulders and held you up, aligning your hold with his length. You plead for him to stop, but it seemed to turn him on more as he pushes you down until his tip is inside you. Then he moved his hands over to your hips, slamming you down deep on his dick, causing you to choke on your saliva for a second.

He bites on your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, leaving back marks of all sizes while also giving you a few seconds to adjust to his size. Until your breath has stabilized, he moves you up and down by gripping your hips at a fairly gentle pace at first. His breath also fastened, continuing to bite your neck to muffle his groans and occasional moan. Both of your bodies are hot and sweaty, harmonizing together despite technically being enemies.

Finally, he pushes you down on his dick, filling you up with semen and letting out a satisfied grunt. He breathes heavily, brushing his damped hair back before he pushes you down on the bed again and caresses your cheek with his hand, saying with a cocky smile and letting out a chuckle at the end.

"Not yet, darling. You don't get to leave me until I'm fully satisfied."

Blake kept his words and kept you with him, both of you fucked like bunnies in heat for the weekends and fucked daily when Blake needs to go to work. He made sure to 'train' you 24/7 in any way possible, using sex toys to please you when he's not with you and abusing aphrodisiac.

A small flame from a lighter lights up the dark alley, Blake leans his back against the wall and huffs out the smoke from his cigarette before glancing at the blond haired man nearby. Both of them are in suits, but in contrast to Blake, the blond haired man seemed much more serious as he approached Blake and said with a frown.

"Where did you take him?"

The question caused Blake to slightly lower his head, the black fedora covering his eyes. Then Blake replies vaguely, his lips curving up to a smile.

"Well... I turned a stubborn brat into an adorable kitten."

"You..."

Blake said before shooting the blond haired man on his arm, glaring at the man.

"He's mine now."

Blake leans down to kiss you on the lips, which you return the kiss with delight, your arms wrapping over his shoulder. He pulls you into the bedroom and ignores the bag of dessert he had dropped.

He grips your hair and pulls your head in his crotch, pushing his dick deeper into your throat with one hand while removing his tie with the other. He glances down at you, his eyes darkened for a short moment.

When he had pushed you down onto the bed, he seemed to be in a rush to relieve his stress since he buries his head in your shoulder the moment you laid your back on the bed, one of his hands playing with your nipple. He muttered about how harsh his day was at work.

When he is distracted, your eyes sharpen with bloodlust. Your hand grips the razor that was hidden behind the pillow and aligns it over Blake's neck. No matter how hard Blake tries, you can never forget what he had done, even then your higher up won't even care since he works for the enemy.

Before you could take action, Blake pointed a gun at your chin and continued to kiss your neck. It started to dawn on you that he expected your retaliation, the timing of the blond hair guy-your colleague and your sudden obedience was too suspicious to pass over. He hums, his other hand continues to play with your body.

"What do you think you're doing? I was genuinely turned on, darling. I saw one of your damn colleagues around this area, the one with blond hair..."

Your eyes widened, the only colleague you have with blond hair is Luka, your highschool best friend. You were about to speak up but he turned you on your stomach and held the gun in front of you, saying with a sickly sweet tone. You recognise the gun as the one he used to kill your client before.

"I was planning on killing you with this, but I missed the shot, I believe that's the best decision I could've made. Now, lick it, darling. If you don't wish for your dear friend to disappear forever."

Having no other choices, you obeyed the order and sucked the barrel of the gun, your body slightly shaking from fear of the trigger pulling any moment. He watched in satisfaction as his other hand moved to play with your underbody, preparing you for nightmare.

After what felt like an eternity, he thrust himself inside of you, but leaving you no time to adjust this time as he focuses on pounding into you like a machine. He holds both of your wrists back to pull you deeper into his cock, ignoring any pleas and any noises you make, even when you are overstimulated and sobbing on the pillow.

When you're on the verge of passing out, he has finally finished but he doesn't seem so tired, just pure satisfaction. He puts his glasses on and before your vision goes dark, you hear the clicking sound of a collar on your neck as well as feeling a kiss on your forehead.

#idk what tags to add #orginal post #vel fic #oc x male reader #bottom!male!reader #bottom male reader #male reader #mlm nsft #mafia au #original character #gun play #x male reader #male reader smut #male reader insert

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

Note

okay okay JC hear me, what about Alucare and Vivian interaction ?

Oh I like this! EVIL SMILE 😈 I like this a lot

Oh Hell No-

For just 10c a day you can help a starving author, that's less then a cup of Ko-fi

Shanks, Mihawk x Reader + Alucare, Vivian

Check out the Old Man Series

It had been a exhausting month out to sea, Shanks insisting the crew go to the grandline. Paired with also having Vivian start training to be a pirate like him-

She didn't object to this, her eyes still following her inspiration of Luffy. She worked hard, Went out to assist the crew and learn the ways of the ship and of being a pirate. Much to everyone's surprise however was the two skills she had picked up- Sharp Shooting and Gambling.. Shanks wasn't too thrilled about either however he couldn't lie he was impressed- She had taken up to learning from Yassop on guns while naturally able to win a lot of card games from the crew and walk away with heavy pockets.

Making port in a small Village to do some basic restocks Vivian traveled off to explore the peer. Deciding to spend some of her winnings-

Vivian was blown away, seeing such a pretty guy standing there at the docks. He was older then her by a bit, he had lovely dark hair tied in a low ponytail and dressed in dark clothes ment for training. However it was his eyes- She could see his eyes from there, bright yellow like gold. A feeling of warmth hit her cheeks and chest as she stared- However he must have felt it since he began to look around with a scowl on his face, Vi quickly walking away to pretend she hadn't been staring at the teenager. Her face she was sure was as red as her hair-

"Don't travel far Vi!" Shanks called out, Even though he knew she had a small pistol that Yassop had gifted her. She kept his words in mind and went around the pier to explore, buying a few snacks and so on till a flutter of black caught her eye- Turning to see a smaller sea vessel and a boy standing infront of it like he was impatiently waiting.

"Well I'll be damned- Is that Hawkeye?" Shanks said, Snapping Vivian from her spying fantasy to look up at her father.

"Ah there you are Vi-" Shanks called out as he walked back towards his daughter and saw her red face. Raising a brow at her red face, going to speak on it till his eyes caught the teen still glancing around.

"You know him?" She said softly, Shanks however looked confused as he stared at the teen. Waving for her to stay put while he walked forward to the teen and the sea vessel.

Shanks shook Alucare's hand and smiled at the young man-

Vi watched from afar, It seemed the two talked briefly before the teen headed back to the sea vessel. Returning with two adults, a clearly pregnant women and a tall man looking like the teen but older and with weird facial hair and short hair.

Shanks spoke with the tall man before he waved Vivian over.

"This is 'Hawkeye' Mihawk a old friend of mine, and This is Vi my daughter" Shanks said proudly, Mihawks eyebrows raising at hearing this and stared at Vivian, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"It's nice to meet you Vivian" Mihawk said calmly, (Y/N) however smiled brightly and shook the young lady's hand.

"It's very lovely to meet you Vivian, Shanks" She said calmly and Alucare nodded as well giving a fast greeting to the child.

"It's nice to meet you Vivian" He said as he shook her hand politely- The girl barely able to mutter the words in return as she looked nervous. The teen quickly releasing her hand and offering it to the older red head.

"Nice to meet ya, Damn you look just like your father" He said with a laugh, truthfully he felt a odd clench in his chest since Alucare looked like Mihawk when Roger's died.

"Well since we are all here, why don't we go to the pub near by, I hear they also have good food so it shouldn't be an issue" Shanks suggested with a happy smile, you of course agreeing at this and thinking it would be nice. Mihawk and Alucare giving similar sighs and nodding in agreement-

"This here is the rest of my crew-" Shanks introduced with a smile- Alucare being silent but polite, That was till he saw Ben Beckman and heard his name, Glancing back to his father with pleading eyes that read 'please say no-' But all Mihawk did was nod silently making the teenager deflate slightly. Deciding that keeping his mouth shut was the best option-

A short journey back to Shanks Ship he gathered his crew to all venture to the pub and of course they were familiar with Mihawk but gave sweet introductions to (Y/N) and Alucare.

Shanks set down his drink as his eyes focused, seeing how Vivians cheeks were red, her eyes sparkling and the way she nervously fiddled with her hair. You catching this and seeing her like this as well and how she smiled so awkwardly around Alucare who was clearly seeing this in more of a babysitting light-

Once all introductions were done the pirates filed inside, it didn't take long for drinks to be poured and food to be served. Vivian being seated to a unamused Alucare who seemed to passively be listening to her as she tried to start conversation.

Your eyes wondered around at seeing the drunk patrons, it wasn't like you were in a current condition to drink yourself so the food was your comfort. But you couldn't help but glance to your son every now and again- Shanks also following you gaze.

"Aw, She must have a little crush on Alu" You say with a giggle, Mihawk looking up from his glass at hearing this- his hand still on your lower back to keep you steady from some invisible force.

Shanks whole body seemed to bristle at this voiced notion taking another hard drink of ale.

"No, Vivian is far too... she's-" He stared harder, that's when he saw it. She tucked her own hair behind her ear shyly- he knew that move too damn well it was the one her mother used to do when trying the flirt and a move that lead to Vivians creation paired with other moves much later on.

"Oh Hell No!-" Shanks all but roared. Mihawk smirking into his drink.

This was bound to be entertaining-

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk x shanks #op mihawk

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weepingtalecowboy · 3 months ago

Text

Fanfic prompt: the chain wants to make Wind have a childhood and because of that they enforce bed time

And wind instead of fighting them on their decision

Just agrees to go to sleep and at first they are nervous about him lying to them

And all stay at the tavern that night but no matter how much they checked

He didn’t sneak out nor did he wake up the entire time (he didn’t even flinch when someone tested if he was pretending)

Nothing happened the entire time and they checked on him and he truly seemed unconscious

So after a while the chain starts hanging out at pubs while one member stays behind in case of an emergency (usually legend or twilight because they don’t seem like the type to hang around public places for no reason )

Doing adult stuff (the good old life regretting decisions)

Like gambling

Drinking till they pass out

Playing cards

And more

What the chain didn’t know was that Wind was having bird adventures and committing crime (with seagull Marin and the occasional flock of other birds)

Because if you use hyoi pears you are unconscious

A perfect ability to get sleep and commit arson at once (and make people permanently afraid of gulls and birds of any kind)

The chain quickly became aware of a crazy seagull that was spotted stealing important documents and try to find it in case it was trained by a spy

(Legend was even more pissed at the fact that a seagull was used for the purpose of infiltrating a dangerous area)

And that is always an unpleasant experience because you have to be political about it for people (because spies can quickly derail into a full on war because of that they decide not to take Wind with them ( hypocritical because they let WILD and RULIE OF ALL PEOPLE WITH THEM )

Wind seemed unusually happy to not get to come with them and stay

And after seeing the gull behave more cautious and careful than before they took the mission

It only seems to confirm that the spy knows that they are looking

That is a dangerous situation for Hyrule

(Wind is just sending the others on a wild gull chase not realizing that he is about to start a war )

When the chain sees the gull get close to a tavern they are staying at they all freak out badly

Because that was the ONE day that they all had left together and wind is completely alone and a pretty easy target

Because how could they not notice that the spy would target the only person who was part of their group and by themselves a lot

After trapping the gull securely with a magic binding they find Wind not waking up anymore no matter what they do the gull just starts gulling more aggressively by laughing at them (wind is in hysteria because that was not at all what he wanted )

After leaving to figure out what it did to wind

They all start freaking out again because no matter how much they try (and hyrule tries a lot ) wind isn’t waking up anymore

And even the lens of truth show that wind is missing his literal soul

What kind of monster are they dealing with

Wind also starts freaking out because he just realized that he can’t get back to his body and that he is trapped in a bird cage

The whole thing only escalates further when he escapes and snatches Wild‘s slate trying to communicate but instead accidentally bombs a warehouse with important items in it

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magicalbats · 6 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 21: Lingerie

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 12,750

Warnings: Afab!reader, lingerie (male wearing), rimming & anal fingering, oral sex (all male receiving), prostate massage/milking, I don't believe I used any gendered language in this one but if something slipped my radar I apologize

A/N: I know I said I was going to wait until these were all done to start posting them but as I was looking at my progress on the prompt list I decided to just say fuck it, we ball. These probably aren't going to come quite back to back (heh) but there shouldn't be too big a gap between them either. Basically your take away here should be to never trust anything I say lol

⭐

The taverns of Mondstadt are a great place to hide in plain sight as long as you’re a regular. New faces stand out even in a crowd but an old familiar face can easily be overlooked if you play your cards right. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself. Don’t talk to any other patrons beyond what was strictly necessary. Mind your business. It’s quite easy, really. Anyone can do it, even the Captain of the Cavalry who’s charming smiles and dashing good looks far precede his reputation amongst the knights.

Kaeya, for his part, is exceptionally talented when it comes to such games and that makes the sleight of hand all the easier to pull off. He knows how to keep his cards close to his chest while at the same time showing any curious onlookers exactly what they wanted to see. What they expected. It was a matter of simple misdirection when you got right down to it, but a soundly effective one. He wasn’t one to disappoint a captivated audience if he could help it, after all.

You understood this to be one of many on the gradually growing list of things you liked about him, and it was at least partially what made playing with him so damn fun. Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t get enough of this titillating subterfuge.

“Looks like I win again.”

Consideringly, you glance over the cards he’s set down on the table in a near perfect, fanning arch. It did certainly appear to be a winning play for him which meant another loss for you to tally up on your side. That was fine though. You weren’t exactly betting all your chips on the opening act when you still had the real show to look forward to later. This was just something to kill the time. The true fun would start afterwards and you were sure to come out on top, victorious as well as properly satiated in the end. That, at least, was a certainty rather than a gamble.

“So it seems,” You agree, giving him a quick smile. “You’re having awfully good luck tonight, Captain. You wouldn’t happen to be breaking any rules to stack the odds in your favor, would you?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd suggestion. Like he wasn’t known for doing just that with enough regularity to become a noticeable trend to anyone who knew him beyond a surface level acquaintance. The average citizen wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. Even the knights working directly under him in the Favonious Cavalry would only suspect it but they’d never know for sure and they probably didn’t grasp the full scope of it either. Kaeya was good at playing the role of a harmless philanderer, yes, but unfortunately for him so were you.

As one of the sole members of the specialized intelligence scouts that reported directly to Captain Eula, you were just as adept at reading people and taking on various roles as he was. In many ways you were a glorified spy, often going undercover to infiltrate enemy lines — usually that of treasure hoarders and their ranks. The only real difference between you and him was that covert sting operations were actually in your job description. Kaeya couldn’t say the same, yet that didn’t stop him from taking on many of the same kinds of tasks you would have been assigned. He could have easily given you a real run for your money if he’d wanted to.

You felt relatively certain that, sooner or later, he would have been recruited into the Reconnaissance Company just the same as you if only that unfortunate situation with his adoptive brother hadn’t happened. With a captain's seat empty and needing to be filled, the answer had been an obvious one.

But fate, as they say, weaves itself into the most curious of patterns. It wasn’t really your place to speculate any further than that, though it is hard not to let your mind wander sometimes when there were so many ‘what if’s and ‘could have been’s floating around him.

Thinking the two of you would have made quite the team in another lifetime, you lean forward to brace your elbows on the table. Deliberately casual and unassuming. That was the name of the game while the rest of the tavern went about its business, blissfully unaware and none the wiser to the subtle foreplay being exchanged right in plain sight for anyone to see if they’d just stop long enough to actually look.

Some would have called this risky but you thought it really quite tantalizing for a first course appetizer.

Kaeya does the same, mirroring the motion, except he reaches out to curl his fingers around the humble pile of mora sitting in the center to claim it for himself. As he pulls it over to his side, his open shirt shifts with the movement. You just catch a glimpse of rich red lace when it barely peeks out from behind crisp white cotton and your pulse starts to speed up. It was bold even for him but the heightened chance of discovery only further feeds into your own excitement for what was to come. What it suggested.

“I don’t need to stoop so low as to intentionally rig the game, my friend.” He tells you quietly under all the wordless din of drinking and merrymaking. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so fine tuned to the presence sitting across from you that you may as well have been the only two in the room at that moment. “I’m just lucky enough to be enjoying a nice winning streak this evening, that’s all. To be honest I’m a little hurt you’d lobby such a baseless accusation against me. You know what they say about sore losers …”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it. What’s a little friendly banter between colleagues after all, right?” He chuckles at that, and your smile quickly turns into a grin. “I’ll admit, your ability to turn things around is quite remarkable though. Wasn’t it just last week when you suffered a resounding defeat at my hands playing Eilfern? Now here you are winning at Whist as if you’ve never lost a game in your life and you don’t still owe me from last time.”

The way Kaeya looks at you over the table speaks volumes, but no one on the outside looking in could ever guess at the effect it was having on you by the way he casually shifts in his seat. He doesn’t look like someone with any real investment in the conversation, neither the game nor this ongoing exchange with you. It all appears very lackadaisical and unimportant to him but you weren’t fooled. You knew better than that.

“Oh, you’ll get what you won from me last time. No question about that. Don’t tell me you’re in such dire need that you’re getting desperate for it after only a few days?”

If you were the type, you would’ve been blushing straight up to your ears. “Need I remind you, Captain, that I wouldn’t be amicable to playing these card games with you if I didn’t expect my winnings in a timely fashion.”

“So you are chomping at the bit.” The sound of his laughter is like the soft caress of silk on your skin as he leans forward as if to share a confidential word with you. Either a secret or something important that isn’t meant for any of the other patrons to overhear, but all it does is provide you with another brief glimpse of the lingerie hidden away behind his clothes when his shirt pulls open a bit more at the subtle stretch.

It’s entirely calculated from the motion itself to the way his clothes are too tight in some places and concealingly loose in others. The fur embellishment on his capelet and the long hair that slips forward over his opposite shoulder thoroughly saw to it that no one else besides you would be able to get a good look at the delicate lace pulled taut over his chest. The people sitting nearest to your little corner table might have been able to make out a curious shock of red on the Captain’s otherwise cool toned attire but they’d never be able to tell for sure what it was. Only you were privileged with the knowledge and you subconsciously lick your lips at the tawdry show he was putting on.

This was something of a routine between the two of you at this point. A tradition of sorts. It was impossible to say when it had actually started or where it had escalated to this level of intimate favors exchanged under the guise of gambling wagers but you were immensely glad for it. You won at Eilfern the last time you’d met up and you’d told him you wanted to see him in lingerie. Before that he’d gotten to finger you for what felt like hours, until the sheets were totally soaked underneath you and you’d begged for it; babbling unendingly until he finally fucked you proper and much to your sobbing relief.

Since it looked like he’d won this round, you wondered what he would choose to do to you when next you got together for your little game nights. The thought alone is enough to almost make you squirm in your seat.

“As always you are much too full of yourself, Captain Kaeya. A single night of wins goes straight to your head and further inflates that already oversized ego of yours.”

“Really now, you wound me.” He doesn’t look at all hurt or even very put out as he pulls himself up and leans back into his chair again. Like a perfectly placed prop, his open shirt slides into place to leave only the usual keyhole showing off the coppery brown skin across his pectorals. Not so much as a hint of red in sight anymore. “It was not my intention to leave you wanting and waiting. I’ll pay up, just as we agreed. We can’t have it being said that I don’t keep up my end of a bargain, can we?”

You pin him with a pointed, deliberate look. “I would certainly think you’d care about your reputation enough to do that much.”

Inclining his chin in agreement, Kaeya makes a sweeping gesture toward the back of the tavern. “Then by all means, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet to continue this conversation.”

Suppressing the urge to smile, you move to stand and he follows suit. The way Kaeya unfolds himself from his chair is something noteworthy, all long legs and perfect stately posture. Some men of his height manage to look gangly or uncoordinated but he is decidedly neither of those. It’s like even at rest he’s so thoroughly perfected the performance that it imbues everything he does right down to the most benign.

You can’t help but wonder how you must look standing together as he comes around the table to flank you. He’s left the pile of mora behind, more than enough to cover the tab and a generous tip on top of that. The owner and sole bartender of the establishment is likely the only person who has any real notion of something going on between the two of you but his silence on the matter was effectively guaranteed. To everyone else it likely just looked like a friendly, casual meeting between two knights. That wasn’t so strange, especially not for someone like Kaeya who enjoyed so much popularity amongst the citizenry. He was on good terms with just about everyone.

You, on the other hand, were much more of an unknown to the general populace. It came with the job description. But no one even gives you a second glance now as you make your way towards the back of the establishment where the secondary exit was located in a cramped little alcove. At a glance it would look like you were leaving to go somewhere else and the curiosity of any nosy eavesdroppers would’ve already been safely satisfied by the exchange at the table. Kaeya wouldn’t have suggested taking leave if he’d even so much as suspected someone was paying more attention to the two of you than simple passing interest, and you were likewise certain that it was safe to make your move for much the same reason.

The rear exit you make your way towards is located directly next to the rickety, well used staircase that leads up to the second floor where the rooms for rent were housed. It was both to give traveling merchants and passing tourists an easy way out so they didn’t have to go all the way to the front, and to ensure an easy traffic flow. You’re pleased to find the coast completely clear despite the late hour, and you take a sharp turn to climb the stairs with Kaeya right on your heels. The weight of his presence just behind you is as comforting as it is full of the velveteen promise of what was yet to come. On one hand you knew you could trust him at your back in the platonic colleague sense. But on the other, much more pressing hand, you also knew you could trust him to give you a night to remember. He always did.

Unfortunately for him — or fortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it — you were much more interested in blowing his mind tonight. He’d left you feeling punchdrunk and floating in the ether last time and now it was your turn to get a little payback.

You can hardly contain your excitement as you reach the landing and make your way down the row of doors until you reach the last room sequestered in the far corner. Arrangements had been made earlier in the evening when you’d first arrived, when it was still slow and not likely to raise any eyebrows; and the heavy wooden door swings open with a quick turn of the key given to you by the owner. Kaeya lets you enter first then steps in behind you, pulling it shut and locking it again in quick succession. No one would be interrupting you any time soon, barring any unexpected emergencies cropping up at the worst possible time.

“So,” He says, unfalteringly casual about it as he leans back against the shut door. “Regarding the prize I owe you. I can take a guess, I’m sure, but what exactly did you have in mind with this?”

Quickly spinning around, you step into him and close the distance, your body pressing flush to his in one smooth motion. You, impatient? Never. “You’ve already kept me waiting long enough, don’t you think Captain? Let me see you first and then I’ll decide what I’m going to do with you.”

Bringing your hand up, you reach for one side of his shirt and he tips his chin down, attentively watching as you peel it away. You’re afforded a much better look at the brassiere now, the thin lace of the cup stretched over his broad chest in a way that was not dissimilar to that of your own, although it lacked much of the same weight and fullness. His figure was far from feminine but that didn’t make it look any less appealing in your eyes. The color is especially striking against his rich skin tone which surprises you slightly when you were so used to seeing him in his signature blue. Who would’ve guessed.

You pull your attention back up to his face again, brow quirked in question. “What made you go with red?”

The smirk that tugs at his mouth tells you exactly why. “I’m afraid you never specified a color. I just assumed it was up for me to decide and you didn’t particularly care either way.” He puts his head to the side, looking oh so very smug and pleased with himself. “Why, don’t you like it? And I spent so much time picking this out too.”

Trying and failing to conceal your smile, you lower your gaze back to his chest. You can even see the darker bud of his nipple showing through the delicate lacework and it looks undeniably inviting like this, trapped behind a thin layer of fabric yet still in plain sight. Idly, you reach up to tease it with a featherlight brush of your fingertips. Was this just a small taste of what men felt when they were graced with seeing a woman in alluring lingerie? If so then you were certainly starting to understand the fascination.

“Rather than if I like it or not, I think the better question is how did you feel wearing this under your clothes out there? Did it excite you, Kaeya?”

He subtly shifts against you, reaching for your other hand. You let him take it without a fuss and he rather pointedly directs it to the front of his pants. He makes you cup him, curling your fingers around the bulge there, and your next breath comes in a quick little gasp. It was far from completely filled out but he was getting there fast.

“Is this answer enough for you?”

“Oh my,” You relent, sighing softly when he twitches and grows against your fingers. His pants were already so tight you didn’t think his placket would be able to restrain a full erection if you didn’t get them off him soon, and time was clearly ticking. You’d have to move this along but it’s impossible to resist the urge to tease him just a little bit for his eagerness. “You’re always so cool and composed, Captain. I had no idea you were this bothered. I’d have never guessed you were hiding away such an excitable prick in your trousers. How do you manage to make it look so easy?”

“Plenty of practice.”

It’s his turn to step into you now. He casually walks you back, using his greater size and weight to guide you until you’re distantly aware of the waiting bed sitting stationary just behind you. The room is not a very large one but it serves its purpose perfectly well.

Eager to see the rest of him, you bring your hands together to fumble with his belts and then the fastens on the waist cinching band around his middle. Kaeya shrugs out of his capelet with a quick flick of his hand while you work on buckles and latches, the distant rustle of it hitting the floor sending a quick shiver up your spine. Then his fingers come up to touch the underside of your chin and tip your face towards him. You gladly rock forward, going on your toes to accommodate the height difference and accept the kiss he bends to place on your mouth.

Working together, you get him undressed one layer at a time. His corset is quickly discarded, the flouncy white shirt soon joining it followed by the tighter, clinging black top underneath. He looks so good standing there naked from the waist up, in nothing but a bra that had quite clearly been tailored to fit the broad expanse of his chest's width and the fingerless gloves he chooses to leave on for the time being. So good in fact that you almost allow yourself to get distracted. Side tracked with questions and exploratory hands, eager to map out this new take on familiar territory through your sense of touch. But then he moves to kick off his boots, hands already at the waistband of his slacks to make your own excitement ratchet up another notch, and you promptly forget what you’d wanted to do.

Watching him take his pants off is always entertaining in its own right, because his legs are so long and the material so form fitted it takes a bit of shimmying on his part to get them pulled down. This time is even better than usual though, because more and more of the bottom half to the lingerie is revealed the more he peels them away. You're a little surprised when you first glimpse the top of the garter belt, the same shade of red and just as finely made as the brassiere, but you don’t quite have the presence of mind to pretend to be scandalized by it. Not when it was easily one of the most mouth watering sights you’d ever seen.

Kaeya’s waist was already small even without the corset there to keep it in check and the crimson band hugged around it just makes it look even more gracefully svelte. Decidedly grabbable. You couldn’t wait to do just that, your fingers practically itching for it while he steps out of his pants.

The matching panties were, predictably, much too thin and flimsy to properly contain his cock but they do a valiant job trying. This is the only part of him that looks in any way out of place or disheveled so you had to give credit where it was due to whoever had done the tailoring. His balls were half spilling out of one side and his swelling length was tenting the front of the material enough to pull the whole garment askew. But his confidence remains unshaken and he merely reaches down to try and adjust himself without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it, although it does very little in the way of good.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step forward to touch him. Gently lay your hands along his narrow waist and give it a squeeze to bring his attention up. “Don’t worry about it. You look amazing.”

“Please, I don’t look anywhere near as good as you would in this thing.” He laughs, low and sultry, the sound so edged with silken promise it makes your loins curl in anticipation. “I admit I didn’t really understand why you wanted me to dress up like this at first. That’s usually the sort of request a man makes in this kind of arrangement, no? But it’s actually not so bad, other than …”

Rather pointedly, he tries to nudge his testes back into the underwear but of course it doesn’t work. You share another quiet laugh with him, giving Kaeya a wry grin to accompany the finger you suggestively slip into the waistband of his panties.

“Now you know how we feel when you start making unreasonable demands of us. Unfortunately for you, this kind of underwear isn’t really meant to hold anything in.” You give the material a quick tug and let it go so that it lightly smacks back into his hip. “What you need is something with a little more coverage to really hold you in place, Kaeya. Maybe a waist high pair with mesh so you can still show off that pretty cock of yours.”

“Oh,” He breathes out, evidently liking that idea. “I’ll remember to bring you along the next time I decide to go shopping for panties then.”

You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face as you lean into him, dragging your hands up his sides to palm along his ribcage. His skin is so smooth and creamy, you could get lost in just touching him like this for hours on end if only time and duty would permit it. “Promise?”

“Yes, you little pervert.” He murmurs, his tone growing hushed and thin. “I promise.”

Bending at the waist, he kisses you again. Slow and steady even when your hunger clashes with his and doubles the weighty sexual tension in the room to leave both of you all but trembling with pent up need. You have all night though, and you don’t want to rush it. Especially not when he looked so damn good like this. Tall and lean, appropriately muscular in the places one would expect a knight in his prime to be, and yet delightfully petite in others. Kaeya was not an overly large man by any stretch of the imagination but his innate masculinity was undeniable. Even like this, even wearing the sort of lingerie meant to compliment a woman’s figure, to hug curves and emphasize certain assets, there was an air about him that was all man.

Something as simple as lingerie couldn’t take that away from him and, although it perhaps wasn’t quite what the maker had intended, it was most definitely showing off his assets.

Abruptly you realize he’s reaching for the front of your slacks and you pull back from his mouth, giving his fingers a quick, playful swat. “Hey, now. This is my payout from our bet so that means I get to call the shots, right?”

A soft hum of amusement. The knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth that pulls his smirk a little wider. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. You should have expected as much from him.

“Of course. Your wish is but my command. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m practically naked and you get to keep all your clothes on, that’s all.”

“Hmm, and yet I don’t think that’s dissuading you by the looks of it.” You murmur, sending his straining cock a slow, pointed glance. Was that a tiny wet stain starting to form, bleeding through the lacy material? He was practically begging for it at this point and you were so very eager to give it to him.

Trailing your sights a little lower, you reach down to tauntingly flick at the dangling garter clasp over his toned thigh. Kaeya’s twitching length eagerly flexes behind the thin barrier that tries its best to contain him at the close proximity of your hand, pushing the material further out from his pelvis. You could probably guess why he’d forgone the hose his garter belt should have hooked to but you were still a bit disappointed at their absence. His legs were so long and lean, firm from years spent atop a horse but densely packed with muscle. He would have looked stunning in them.

“Didn’t have enough time to find yourself a pair of stockings, Captain?”

He issues a low, breathy laugh even as he tries to subtly shift his weight from one foot to the other, attempting to angle his cock towards your hand. You’re quick to pull it away though, uninterested in giving him even that simple satisfaction or folding to his needy little demands just yet. Soon, but not yet.

“I thought about it,” He says, obediently stilling again now that it was clear his bid wasn’t going to work. “But I’m unfortunately not half as well versed in these matters as you seem to be giving me credit for. I wasn’t sure what you would like and, more importantly, I didn’t know what would fit properly. There were so many options to choose from and I’d already made quite enough of a spectacle of myself, don’t you think?”

“Did you go to the shop I told you about?” At his nod, you reach out again. Touch fingertips to the tight muscle running up his thigh and lightly draw your nails across it to make his breath come out in a tiny huff. “Then your secret is safe with them. I’d trust that dressmaker with my very life. I’m certain she would have helped you without any judgment or snide remarks.”

“Dully noted.”

You’re obviously distracting him quite a bit but Kaeya still manages to find the wherewithal to drag his attention slowly down your legs, like he was half remembering, half imagining how they would look without your pants in the way. He doesn’t make an attempt at wrestling control from you though, nor does he start throwing his greater weight around even though he very well could. In truth, he is perfectly compliant and malleable for you like this. Those were the parameters of the game, after all, and if there was one thing Kaeya could be trusted with it was his word.

The agreement at the offset of this arrangement was that the winner took all while the loser paid up in full, no questions asked. You’d initially been wary to agree, anticipating him to stack the odds in his favor just so he could play out whatever pigheaded fantasies that seemed to plague the minds of men, but that had not been the case. Not only was he far more inclined towards soft, drawn out encounters of a rather tender persuasion, he was also perfectly amenable to taking orders too and he never cheated. As far as you could tell he really was just the type of person who craved intimacy with another but could only feel truly comfortable with a set of rules in place to give it structure. Almost like … it was almost like he feared giving too much of himself to a lover. Of saying too much, revealing too much.

Playing it out this way would allow him to step back before things got too serious and he crossed a line he either wouldn’t or couldn’t bring himself to cross, as unwilling as he was unable to take that risk and find out what existed just beyond. It gave him the option of temporary companionship without any of the expectations that came with a traditional coupling. Perhaps it would have been sad had it not been exactly the same for you. Glorified spies weren’t exactly famous for their long life expectancies, you know.

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you slide your hand inward and brush a light touch against the darker skin of his ballsack. His chest rises with a quiet hitch, hard nipples cutting up into the material of the bra as his one visible eye takes on a heavy lidded quality. It’s clear he’d been eagerly awaiting your touch and now that he’s got it a stiff edge starts to creep into his posture.

Smiling up at him, you gently tease the weight of his testes where the skimpy underwear can’t quite seem to keep them contained. “It’s a shame I didn’t wear stockings either today, otherwise I could have given them to you. I mean it, Kaeya. You’d look so good in a nice pair of thigh highs.” Still fondling the silky flesh in your hand, you lean up to swipe a quick tongue over one tightly coiled nipple through flimsy lace. His lashes flutter for a brief moment and then he seems to regain his bearings, looking down at you like you hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky. Like he would do anything you could possibly ask of him in that moment. “Not to worry though, Captain. We’ll get you sorted out soon enough. For now though …”

You give his balls a gentle, coaxing tug and he obediently shuffles forward half a step. It’s hard not to grin, seeing the kind of power he lets you hold over him in private like this.

“Why don’t you give me a spin and let me see the back?”

An almost affronted sound bursts out of him, as much a throaty laugh as it is a question at where your thoughts were headed. To his credit he doesn’t protest or act embarrassed about it though, and you simply let your hand slip away from his testicles when he moves to turn around.

You’re not particularly surprised to find that the reverse of the garment is just as skimpy as the front. It’s hardly any wonder that such flimsy underwear can’t hold him in place, and you find yourself giggling as you slip a finger into the thin strip of fabric running between the cheeks of his tight little ass. Although hardly practical in terms of everyday wear, this was in many ways exactly what you’d been hoping for.

“I have to be honest, Kaeya. I half expected you to go for something much more modest and reserved than this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you belonged in a brothel rather than on top of a horse leading the cavalry to victory.”

“Hah. Do I really seem the shy type to you?” His response is edged in mirth and something much thicker, something that darkens his usually flirtatious tone. A challenge, you think, and it brings yet another smile to your face.

“No, you don’t. Which is precisely why I think you deserve a reward for not disappointing me.”

He starts to draw breath, already formulating a no doubt witty remark on the tip of his silver tongue, but it audibly catches when you curl your finger inward. Find the tight pucker of his hole and just brush against it. The tension running through his body abruptly doubles and then triples, becoming some almost tangible, vibrating thing. You can feel it bleeding into you through the contact even for as brief as it is, and you lightly rub the pad of that digit over his entrance again. Just testing the waters. Seeing how amenable he was to this type of play before you pushed your luck any further.

Evidentially frozen to the spot, Kaeya just stands there for a long, harrowing beat of uncertainty. You’re sure that’s what it must be. But he manages to recover quickly enough, seems to shake off the surprise gripping his lungs. He hesitates and then gingerly pushes back, surprising you more than just a little bit. You’d teased this part of him in passing before but not like this. Not with the suggestion or the context of true penetration involved.

There’s no denying it’s presence now though and your opposite hand instinctively comes up to hook over his shoulder, both to hold him in place and to gently nudge him down on your fingers again.

“Oh, Kaeya,” You breathe out, flicking over his hole with a light back and forth gesture. Back and forth, back and forth, up and then down. “Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of reward?”

“Even if I’m not, I'm certain you’ll prep me for it, won’t you?”

Cheeky. That’s what he is.

Giving his ass one final, lingering pass of your finger, you withdraw completely to grab a pinching tight handful of one cheek and offer it a quick jostle for good measure. “You’re right about that. Why don’t you be a good boy and get on the bed for me?”

A quick, playful swat to his behind gets him in gear. He slowly turns back around to face you with a quiet, throaty laugh and you glance down as he moves to step past you. Something not unlike delight lights up within your chest at the way his cock eagerly bounces within the confines of his panties, the bleeding wet stain obvious now. It was hard to say what, exactly, he was expecting you to do next but he doesn’t question it. Doesn’t get huffy or roll out the masculine grandstanding. Just obediently steps up to the bed so he can climb on top, somehow still so poised and elegant even while wearing women’s lingerie with his balls hanging out of one side. So much so that it looks almost second nature to him, in a way. Yes, a reward was certainly due. He’d be in for a real treat here in a minute.

Thinking back on the last time you’d fooled around and the absolute dripping mess he’d made of you, you decide that payback is indeed a bitch.

“Like this?” He asks, posing like a tawdry slut on his hands and knees with his firm ass in the air. Some men may have looked ridiculous and laughable trying for sultry like that, but Kaeya somehow manages to pull it off. Between the svelte arch of his back, the way his narrow waist gradually tapers up to broad shoulders and the coquettish way he looks back at you, it’s clearer than ever that he knew how to put on a show. Even the heavy weight of his erection dragging at the paper thin garment trying to hold him in isn’t enough to make him look silly or awkward, and it probably would have made you green with envy had you not known with absolute certainty that your stake on him had already been claimed. This wasn’t a competition.

“Not quite what I had in mind but it’ll do.”

Stepping into the space between his feet where they dangle over the edge, you hook your finger into the red fabric running up his ass and tug it aside. His hole is dark and smooth, not unlike his ballsack in its silken appearance, and ever so slightly raised from your earlier minstrations that had only teased the muscle, not tested it. You’re distantly aware of him tensing up as you bend to get closer, opening your mouth to unfurl your tongue, but you don’t pause long enough to allow him a chance at protest.

The first pass over his entrance makes Kaeya jolt like you’d electrocuted him, a tiny sound of startlement escaping his mouth. The second makes him hiss a soft expletive under his breath, and a third has him huffing out the faintest whimper you’ve ever heard. He shifts on top of the bed then, twisting his upper body to look back at you with his uncovered eye. Even from where you’re busy tonguing his asshole, you can clearly make out the fluster dancing across his face and it fills you with warm, fluttering delight.

“I know you’re in charge here but … you don’t have to do that on my account.”

You come up for a fresh breath, pinning him with a saccharine sweet look. “What, you mean like how even when you don’t have to go down on me you do it anyway? Oh, I know. This is just a warm up though so let me have my fun, okay?”

With a quick wink you swoop back down to press the flat of your tongue against his hole, swirling the wrinkled muscle to lathe it in saliva and encourage it to loosen up. He lets out another huffy breath, sounding like he isn’t quite sure what to do with this yet, how to accept it, but he still makes an attempt to relax into the sensation anyway. Resigned to his fate, evidently. Not that he seemed to find it entirely disagreeable, given the way you can see his toes flexing just at the peripheral of your vision, but you strongly suspected this was a first for him.

Good. The less he expected what was coming the more explosive the final results were sure to be. Considering the mess he’d made of you last time he was going to be lucky if you didn’t turn him inside out before the night was through.

Gripping his cheeks with both hands now and holding them spread apart, you lean into your work with renewed enthusiasm. You’re intentionally sloppy with it, letting yourself freely slobber over his hole and taint to ensure he was thoroughly coated before you moved on. This wasn’t something you wanted to rush anyway, far too keen on savoring the taste of him to do that, but with your greater objective in mind you especially wanted to err on the side of caution. One could never be too wet and lubed up, and you were sure Kaeya was going to agree with that by the time you were finished with him.

And he groans so prettily when you dip your tongue into the center of his pucker, just breaching his body, that you have to do it again. And again. Fucking into him like this makes Kaeya twitch and subtly writhe, his breaths coming quicker and shorter as he weakly rolls his hips back to meet you. That he seems to struggle between thrusting out with his cock or riding your tongue with his ass is decidedly charming in its own right, and it only encourages you to keep going. To lap at him more vigorously, to drool more copiously until it feels vaguely like you’re eating out a particularly juicy cunt. It wasn’t often you managed to truly surprise him so you were happy to take advantage of this opportunity while you had it.

Burying your face as far into his ass as you can, you seal your lips around his twitching entrance and gently suckle. Kaeya pulls in a sharp, vaguely frazzled breath in response but still instinctively arches his back to better present himself to you, plainly offering his hole up to your mouth. It may have been a brand new sensation for him, one he didn’t yet know how to process or brace against, but that clearly doesn’t make it any less physically satisfying and that pleases you a great deal.

The previously tight ring of muscle quickly becomes raised and puffy under your attention but you don’t stop until his whimpering groans have turned pitchy with his growing need. That was exactly how you wanted him. Desperate for stimulation that was a bit more substantial, more meaningful, and you finally pull back with a loud, wet smack of your lips some moments later. A quick glance at the sloppy state of his puckered hole has you grinning from ear to ear, and you give Kaeya another quick swat to his raised behind as you straighten up.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? Do you like when I go down on your slutty little ass?”

He quietly seethes, offering you a short lived but no less plaintive shake of his behind. The motion is stiff and halting, like he didn’t want to give in to the urge but couldn’t quite stop himself from doing so. But he immediately grows stills again, panting softly to make his shoulders rise and fall with the quickened inhale-exhales of arousal. “Don’t tell me you really plan on holding out on me if I don’t go along with the ‘slut’ routine …?”

“Of course not. You can tell me to stop at any point and we’ll decide where to go from there. That’s one of our rules, isn’t it?” Failing to keep the mischief out of your voice, you reach between his legs to tug the panties aside in the front too. The weight of his balls seems glad to slide free of their lacy prison and his cock practically springs out, so stiff and leaking sticky precum that he hisses quietly in response. You feel resoundingly victorious as you finally wrap your fingers around that straining, aching length and give it a tauntingly halfhearted tug. Even for as minuscule as the friction is, he still weakly keens like it’s the best thing he’s felt in a very long time. “Just look at you. Do you really feel like anything other than a slut right now? Dressed like this and with your ass in the air … be honest, Kaeya.”

The way his cock jumps in your hand and dribbles more beading clear fluid from the tip is answer enough. He could have kept his silence and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you.

But your words hit their intended target straight on, and he gives a wholly unintentional jolt that makes the bed quietly creak. Perhaps embarrassed by his subconscious reaction or unbearably turned on by it, Kaeya groans low in his throat and presses his face into the bedding to muffle his response. “Do you seriously need to ask? You know I do … but you just want to hear me say it, isn’t that right?”

“You got it. Remember all those filthy things you made me say the last time we were together?”

His head suddenly comes up, a disbelieving guffaw punching out of him. “Is that what this is? Revenge?”

“Something like that.” You shrug your shoulders, as innocent as can be when he twists around to look back at you again. “I just like to think that all is fair in love and war, I guess. You started it and now I’m rebalancing the playing field so to speak. That and … I do so enjoy seeing you on your hands and knees, you know.”

Kaeya’s expression turns wry at that but he doesn’t immediately snap back with some cute little remark. Instead he seems to think about it for a quick moment and then, surprising you and delighting you in equal measure, he suddenly smirks like he’s just realized he’s holding a winning hand. “Fine. I’m certainly not opposed to being on the receiving end, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Do your worst. Let’s see if you can make me say it.”

That initial feeling of pleased bewilderment quickly vanishes, replaced by a simmering heat low in your gut as you mirror the look on his face with a sly grin of your own. “Is that how you want to play it? Gonna’ be a little brat for me?”

“Only if you think you can handle it.”

“Smart ass.” Suppressing the urge to laugh, you pull back from him and straighten up with another sound slap across his upturned cheek. “Get on your back for me. Let’s see how long you can keep up that attitude.”

“Oooh, I like where this is going.”

It takes everything you have no to roll your eyes at his obvious wheedling while he gets turned over. Clearly he thought he could out maneuver you, somehow, if he just held onto his usual mask of sauve surety for long enough but you were sure you could rip it away from him with relative ease. For better or worse, not many men could keep their wits about them when faced with what you had in mind for him.

Ignoring his pointed, haughty looks of challenge, you take a moment to disrobe down to your underwear so that the both of you were in a similar state of undress. Mainly because it was getting a bit warm in the cramped, stuffy room and also because it would make getting situated together that much smoother.

You finally join him on the bed another moment later and Kaeya keenly watches as you crawl closer, smiling like the cat that ate the canary when you move to kneel between his legs. He was so sure of himself. So confident. That wasn’t going to do him much good in the long run though, and you take a moment to get comfortable before reaching out to palm along his strong calves.

His cock had started to gradually flag in the interim, resting across his lower belly now, but you could tell it was just one caress away from springing right back to life again. All that pent up need to cum was going to be his undoing.

“I’m waiting.” He drawls, idly toying with a long strand of his hair. “After the way you were talking, I expected - -“

Hunching over his pelvis, you lean down to lick a sudden, wet stripe up the underside of his cock. Whatever he’d wanted to say lodges in his throat with a hardly dignified grunt, his uncovered eye widening in obvious surprise as satisfaction lights up within your chest like a smoldering ember. He looked a bit startled, and a lot disarmed. The fact he hadn’t expected that either, that you’d managed to catch him off guard twice now is nothing short of gratifying, and you were ready to bat for three.

Quickly, you swivel your attention back down before he has a chance to find his bearings. Open your mouth to flick at his glans with your tongue where it peeks out from behind the stretch of his foreskin. A strangled sound rises deep in his chest while his cock jumps to immediate attention, flexing up off his stomach for a brief moment before slapping back down with a meaty noise. He fitfully shifts atop the creaking bed and then tucks his chin against his chest to look down at you, his hips arching off the sheets in needy supplication.

It’s a delicious sight to behold; the usually confident and suave Captain of the Cavalry so hot with need it had him antsy under your attention. You decide to take pity on him for the moment and lean down again, catching the flushed head of him between your lips so you can suck on it while you bring a hand around to grip at the base. You make sure to do everything quick and without warning so he doesn’t have a chance to brace himself for it, and he rewards you very handsomely for your efforts.

Kaeya outright grunts like you’ve just sucker punched him, seething through tightly clenched teeth. Twists his balled up fists in the bedding and allows his head to fall back, moaning gruffly up at the ceiling while his stomach dramatically flexes at the abrupt sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his cock. You greatly enjoyed seeing him like this. Worked up enough for his sensitivity to be heightened but still so unaware of what you were building up to, what you were planning.

It makes it incredibly easy to crowd your other hand close to your face so you can coat the fingers in spit, idly pumping his length in the absence of your tongue and lips. He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel downright devilish as you lean down to take him a third of the way into your mouth again, just short of brushing the back of your throat, and slip your now sticky digits between his legs. At the first tentative touch to his hole Kaeya chokes on another undignified sound but quickly bites it back. Wrestles it under control. You can tell it’s a struggle for him though, and you were more certain than ever that he wasn’t accustomed to being touched like this. It really was a brand new experience for him.

“Don’t tense up,” You murmur, coming off his cock just enough to speak. “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me, okay?”

He tries to laugh it off but it doesn’t quite come out sounding very calm or casual. “Trust isn’t the issue. Telling me not to tense up … now that is a tall order.”

“You told me to do my worst.” You lightly remind him.

“And I stand by that.” Drawing a slow, deep breath that makes his hole subtly flex under your fingertips, he releases it with a drawn out exhale. Carefully inches his long legs a little further apart to give you more space, better access, in a clear display of submission and acceptance. “Do it. I’m not going to stop you.”

“That sounds rather fatalistic, don’t you think?” Gently, you rub your fingers over his hole again. It was still wet with saliva and puffy from before, the center puckered enough that you could feel the skin start to give way under the slow pass of your ministrations. If you’d planned on using anything much bigger than this you would have needed real lube. He was just too tight and unstretched to accommodate much else without the proper prep. But for a finger or two, this should be fine.

Perhaps sensing your train of thought, he shifts again and peers down at you. His gaze is heavy and distant, and you think he’s probably blushing right up to his ears under the dark complexion of his skin as he carefully curls one leg up to better present his entrance to you. “I’m not trying to be a martyr. If you say it will feel good then I believe you, just … take it slow, okay?”

You weren’t used to seeing him express any kind of doubt or uncertainty like this, and you offer him a warm smile in return. Curl your fingers to find the center of his hole and just prod into it, teasing the slackening muscle with the suggestion. His mouth parts as if to groan or perhaps sigh, but nothing comes out, like he can’t quite find the oxygen to do either. “I will. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax your body into it. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll stop.”

He nods once, clearly distracted by what you were doing with your hand. That was as good a sign as any in your eyes so you give a little push that sinks the tip of the middle digit into him. It wasn’t true penetration yet but it’s enough for you to feel the intense heat of his guts and how the muscle tries to clench at the pressure. Pausing there, you give your finger a careful wriggle to coax his hole into opening up more for you. You can feel him trying to brace against it, to hold himself in check, and his raised leg visibly falters in the air as a result.

Quickly releasing your hold on his length, you reach up to grab his ankle and guide it over your shoulder. He hesitates, almost seems to want to fight it at first and then allows his leg to slide into place with a stiff, almost whiny hiss. He wasn’t used to this, you remind yourself as you give his calf a brief squeeze of reassurance. Kaeya was typically more accustomed to being the instigator, not the one at someone else’s mercy. All of your previous wins had been cashed in with relatively tame asks. You’d sat on his face multiple times now, though you suspected that was as much a treat for him as it was for you. In truth he’d gone down on you more times than you could count and on more than one occasion had even stuffed his thumb into your ass upon request while he took you from behind. The most daring thing you’d asked of him thus far had been to ride him out on the shoreline beaches of Cider Lake in the dead of night and he’d certainly fulfilled that fantasy with star glitter results.

But the current situation saw you firmly in control and it took all the power away from him, leaving his usual cool nothing more than a distant memory. He holds himself so stiffly there on top of the bed that you can see the thick bands of muscle across his chest bulging under the skin, his lean stomach so tensed it almost looks concave from this angle. At the subtle wriggle of your finger Kaeya haltingly twists his upper body against the sheets, leaving them in a wrinkled ruin, but his lower half remains almost stock still. Like he didn’t trust himself to move just yet when he had no idea what was truly coming.

All the better, really. You could take pity on him if you’d wanted but he hadn’t shown any of that restraint the last time when he’d reduced you to a babbling, squirting mess. If you could do the same to him, you’d consider this a resounding victory.

“Relax, Kaeya,” You breathe out, and his cock eagerly flexes up off his stomach again at the cool waft of air. “I promise you’ll like this.”

A small, throaty whimper is the only answer you get but it’s as close to acquiescence as you’re likely to get.

Holding the breath in your lungs, you carefully start to push deeper into him. The resistance of his body is unmistakable but the right amount of pressure applied to the very center of his sphincter soon has you slipping in past that initial barrier. His entire frame shakes with the haggard, threadbare gasp he sucks in before going so completely still you can’t be sure if he’s still breathing or not even as the constricting heat of his guts fully envelops your digit. Gentle yet insistent, you keep going until you can feel the puffed up rim of his asshole pressing against your knuckle. It’s only then that you pause, just letting the simple penetration sink in and for him to adjust to it as you dip your face close to his pelvis again.

“Take a deep breath, good boy. For me?” You murmur, lips brushing over the curve of one testicle.

He immediately draws another quick, flustered exhale; the noise catching in his throat with a low choking sound. His cock springs up with it and strains skyward, lurching so powerfully it smacks against your cheek with a small meaty slap.

You laugh, unable to help it, and that seems to dislodge the tortured groan he’s been valiantly fighting back this entire time. It bursts out of him with a suddenness that would have startled you had you not been fully aware of how enthusiastically his inner sleeve was clenching around you in sporadic pulses. Like he was torn between tensing up or relaxing into it, and the end result all but has him milking himself on your finger.

Heady with that knowledge, you bring your head up and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, pulling it in deep. Kaeya lets out a broken little sob, once again twisting in the bedding while his leg uselessly flexes over your shoulder. He’s usually much more in control than this, and you’re exceedingly glad that you chose to do it in this position because it allows you to glance up the length of his pulled taut body and look at his face. His pinched expression is one of ruin and desperation, his fluster as plain as day.

You’d never seen him look quite like that before and you drink it in, committing it all to memory while you flick your tongue over his satiny slit to lick up all the bitter precum leaking out of him. The deep furrow of his brows leaves a small wrinkle between them, further highlighted by the light sheen of sweat starting to form along his skin. His teeth clench tight when he swallows hard, making his jaw powerfully flex, and then his mouth warbles back open again to let loose the faintest, faltering groan you’ve ever heard. He seems to be torn between looking down at you, watching what you were doing, and fixing his hazy attention on the ceiling overhead. It has him fitfully squirming, his knee bumping your arm when it squeezes inward to accompany the deep clench of his innards.

Content to leave it at that and just watch him, you don’t think to proceed any farther. But then he manages to surprise you this time when he finally tucks his chin to his chest and peers down at you with an imploring look so unspeakably needy it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Please,” He breathes out. So hushed and quiet you almost miss it despite the close proximity and the total lack of any other noise, save the distant sounds of the tavern in full swing down below. “Need to cum ...”

Oh.

Suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter, you give his cock one last lingering suck and pull off. It twitches in the absence of your mouth and strains after you, his pelvis needily lifting, but you just pin him with a slow simmering smile to still him again. “Do you now?”

At his terse nod, you draw a deliberate breath that makes his thighs eagerly tense up in anticipation.

“Are you going to say it?”

Kaeya’s thin attempt at laughter bounces off the walls, so transparent it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out he was trying to bluff. Trying and failing. “You really want to hear me say it that badly?”

“I’d enjoy it but I have no intention of withholding from you if you don’t. It’s just part of the game, that's all. But more importantly,” You pause to give your finger another wriggle inside him, and he outright chokes on the sensation. Feeling quite pleased with yourself, you slowly curl that digit upward to feel along his inner wall in search of the tight cluster of nerves that would have him seeing stars. “Let’s find that sweet spot of yours, hm?”

A low, gravelly moan rattles inside his chest as you poke and prod at him, massaging his interior with gentle insistence until you locate the telltale mass nestled just on the other side. It’s no bigger than a walnut but he gives a full bodied shudder the second you put any amount of pressure on it, and your pussy clenches in sympathetic excitement when he stiffens up. His mouth hinging open in surprise as much as deeply felt pleasure, Kaeya issues a half strangled mewl into the statically charged room, noticeably higher in octave than usual and raspy. It sounds heavenly to your ears.

“Aaahhn - -“

“Ooh, there it is. And so sensitive too. I’ve barely even touched it yet and you’re already …”

Gaze dropping, you watch his cock wildly flex as yet more creamy discharge bubbles up out of the slit. It gathers so quickly, and in such a thick concentration, that when you idly press up on his prostate again it flings right off at the sudden jolt of his achingly stiff length. The nearly translucent fluid stands out against his complexion where it splatters on his stomach and you have to make a conscious effort to stop yourself from chasing after it with your tongue. This was somehow even better than you’d imagined it would be.

“Do you like that, Kaeya?”

He tries to speak, croaks out something unintelligible, and has to pause to clear his throat once, twice, before trying again. “Mm’not sure yet but …”

“But?”

“Please do it again.”

You grin from ear to ear, delighting in doing just that but with added pressure this time. Where your first few brushes against that tight little cluster had been soft and coaxing, you now curl the pad of your finger directly into it and massage it with steady strokes. Kaeya reacts like you’d given him a shock of electro, his entire body heaving and locking up in sudden tension that is at complete odds with the way his cock impotently jerks through the air like it’s got a mind of its own now. And he just keeps leaking a near constant stream of sticky precum that seems to bubble up quicker every time you rub against his prostate. It beads and gathers at the tip before dribbling off the next time his length flexes and you aptly watch as it falls, leaving a glistening thread trailing down to his stomach where it lands not far from the first.

It becomes increasingly more difficult for you to keep your own urges in check as you watch him wheeze through it, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure and yet unwilling — or unable? — to shy away from what you were doing to him. He certainly could have if he’d wanted to. Kaeya was not only twice your size but double your strength too. If he really deemed it to be too much for him to take anymore, he could have all too easily put a stop to it one way or another.

Instead, he gasps like his soul is actively trying to leave his body and writhes stiffly before — slowly hiking his other leg up to curl it around you. It suddenly feels like your chest is constricting too tight for you to breathe, and it’s only a subconscious reaction that has you nudging your arm down so he can hook his knee over it much the same as the first. You don’t give it any deeper thought than that. You can’t, not when it was as if your brain was flatlining and all you could think to do is accommodate him. If he wanted to do this with his legs in the air like a proper slut then that was what he would have.

And surely no one could fault you for that when it was by far one of the hottest things you’d ever been lucky enough to have a front row seat for. You felt like you were going to explode and your neglected cunt hadn’t even been touched yet.

“Nnghhn, that’s … oh, that’s good. Unexpected but — good.” He sounds incredibly winded, like he’d just returned from running all the way out to Dragonspine and back without taking a break anywhere in between. The damp quality of his skin gives the same impression where it was making some of his dark hair stick to his temple and cheeks in a few spots of gathering perspiration.

Truth be told Kaeya already looked wrecked beyond repair but you wanted to ruin him even more. How could you not when he was so devastatingly gorgeous and all yours for the taking?

“You really like it? You’re such a good boy for me, y’know that. I really wanted you to enjoy this.”

“I am,” He grits out with no shortage of effort, his narrow hips juddering slightly in their elevated position. You’re even more glad for your foresight now because it makes it all the easier for you to adjust the angle of your finger when his pelvis is up off the bed and you attack his prostate with renewed vigor now, earning yourself another tortured moan. “Ohh! Ahn … please. Need to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Kaeya. I’m not going to stop fingering your ass until you do.”

The sound that bursts out of him is downright wounded, guttural and keening. Whiny, almost. He writhes so uncontrollably you can tell he’s getting dangerously close and the excited quiver of his guts only serves to further solidly that impression. You know it’s only a matter of moments now and your pulse skyrockets as he blindly reaches up to squeeze at his own chest through the lacy cups of the bra. His dark nipples cut up into the fabric, as stiff as can be and begging for friction. It’s almost too much for you to bear but you persistently keep going even when your wrist starts to cramp from the constant flexing and the tight angle. If you’d had the time for it you probably would have tried to worm a second finger into the tight heat of his squeezing passage but it was already much too late for that.

His breaths coming in quicker, shorter bursts, Kaeya tips his face down to look at himself. The red lace stretched across his pectorals and around his waist, flimsy panties pulled aside and away from his bobbing cock while he’s got his long legs draped over your shoulders. The sight seems to surprise a faltering groan out of him, and he struggles to keep his eye open and trained on you when his expression pinches tight.

“Burn everything, I’m going to cum. I’m cumming. Yes, yes, yesssss, aghhn, keep fucking my s - slutty ass until I — I - -“

His head suddenly falls back against the bed, viciously seething up at the ceiling while his cock gives its most violent jerk yet. Ropes of thick, milky semen shoot out of the slit in an abrupt eruption that almost manages to catch you off guard. The weight of him pendulously swings with the sheer force of his ejaculation, sending it back towards you just in time for the next pulse to catch you across the chest. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Not even so much as a peep.

Making the impulsive decision to put it to good work anyway, you quickly swoop down and catch the head of him between your lips with mere seconds to spare. The third jet of potent discharge shoots off at the back of your throat and your eyes roll back in fluttering bliss at the same time Kaeya cries out in deeply frazzled distress. The way he clenches, so fervent and tight he feels like a livewire on the brink of snapping, makes it apparent that he hadn’t expected to find himself cumming directly into your mouth. That pleases you a great deal too, especially when it seems to elongate his pleasure. Drags it out with yet another roiling heave that sends more bitter semen squirting down your gullet.

He doesn’t have anything else left to give after that though, and further pressure on his prostate just coaxes out a thin, watery discharge that tastes of potent salt on your tongue. You groan low in your chest at the bitter flavor even as you dutifully swallow it down where it can settle hot and heavy in your gut. Kaeya just hisses like an incensed wildcat at the overstimulation before finally making an attempt to shirk away from it, sensitively curling his lower half inward.

Letting go of him immediately, you watch his cock swing forward with an accompanying thread of glistening spittle stretched between your mouth and the glans. It stays upright for a short beat or two before swooning down towards his stomach when it quickly starts to soften in it’s thoroughly spent state. You give your lips a quick lick to rid them of any lingering spit and turn your attention up at his face, leaving your finger wedged inside for the moment but angled away from that sensitive bundle along his upper wall to give him a moments reprieve.

He’s got his head turned away and hidden behind an arm carelessly tossed over his eyes, still trying to calm his erratic breaths. You give him another minute or two, then reach up with your unoccupied hand to rub over his belly in comforting circles while actively trying to avoid the goopy mess he’s made all over himself. “Are you alright, Captain? Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Yeah.” He barks out a short, mirthless laugh as he stirs, working to unhook his long legs from you with cautiously slow movements. “You can take your panties off and get over here. I think I owe you a little payback of my own after that.”

Your pussy gives a muted throb of excitement, but you don’t immediately jump at the chance to do as he’d asked. Both because you wanted to check in on him first without getting distracted and because you were still lodged inside him up to the knuckle. Suddenly pulling out might come as a shock if he wasn’t ready for it.

“There will be time for that later,” You remind him gently. “I think we should talk about you first. How do you feel?”

Finally moving his arm, Kaeya looks down at you with a sardonically lifted brow. “You can’t be serious. You really need to ask? Just look at exhibit A.” He gestures meaningfully at the sticky discharge splattered across his front, making you take note of the goopy stains on the band of his garter belt for the first time. He certainly had cum a lot, hadn’t he? “Never mind that I just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life and it’s going to take me longer than usual to bounce back from it. Need I also remind you that you got me to say what you were fishing for earlier?”

You can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at the memory. “You sure did. I’d almost given up.”

“You know I don’t like to disappoint.” A smirk tugs at his mouth but it quickly vanishes when he tucks his knees upward, opening himself up to you and giving you a picture perfect shot of your finger crammed in his ass up to the hilt. Oh, if only you had a kamera on hand.

“Can you, uh …”

“Of course. Just relax the muscles as much as you can and try not to clench.” With that, you gently start to ease your hand back. Despite your helpful suggestion his interior still tries to cling to you on the way out and Kaeya seethes at the sensation. It doesn’t escape your notice that he actively refuses to look at you during this process but you couldn’t really hold that against him. Some men became cripplingly shy and embarrassed once the heat of the moment has worn off, others got angry at themselves for enjoying it so much.

Kaeya didn’t seem to be either embarrassed or angry though. If anything, he almost struck you as … vulnerable in that moment. Like he was confident enough in his own masculinity, his own ego, not to let something like this rattle him. Rather you’d seen another side of him tonight that you were unfamiliar with and he was — uncertain how you would react?

Could that really be it though?

Curiosity lights up the back of your mind in stunning high definition. You’re already forming the question on the tip of your tongue as your finger pops free and he groans very faintly, wincing at the loss. But youre quick to lean over him before he can turn away onto his side, getting right in his face so he has no choice but to look up at you.

“Kaeya, do you - -“

He abruptly pushes up, catching your lips and silencing you in one fell swoop. You issue a soft sound of surprise against his mouth but he just swallows the sound, kissing you so heatedly you can’t fight being coaxed into the motion. Giving in with a stilted sigh, you half melt into the exchange and kiss him back with your own hunger, your own need reflected in the hard press of your mouth against his.

When he finally pulls away a long moment later, he’s effectively stolen your breath and almost made you forget what you were going to ask. Almost, but not quite.

“You should know by now I’m not so easily distracted.” You pant, pinning him with a mock rueful look.

“Oh trust me, I do. It’s one of the many things I like about you, if I’m being honest.” He murmurs back, his tone low and hushed yet once again colored with silken promise. It almost comes as more of a surprise than the kiss had, how quickly he could rebuild his walls and put the mask back on. At your look of confusion, though, he just offers up a sly little grin. “It wasn’t actually meant to distract you. We can talk about it later. Promise. For right now though, I think the far more pressing matter is seeing if I can make you cum half as hard as I just did. That only seems like a fair exchange, doesn’t it?”

“You’re hopeless.” You sigh out, even as your nipples harden painfully fast against the interior of your bra at the simple suggestion. You wanted to feel his touch there, between your legs, everywhere and all at once. This arrangement was fun and games on the surface but deep inside there was something else brewing, taking hold of you and growing. Would he be as amenable to that as he’d been with this kind of play?

You’re not so sure when his own vulnerability was already such a touchy subject to broach but the way he leans up to press a tender kiss against your lips seems to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it was the same for him too. He was scared. You were scared. Perhaps the two of you could be scared together.

“I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours.” He teases, and the resulting warm caress of his breath against your skin makes you shudder. A pleased look crosses Kaeya’s face as he reaches a hand up to palm along your waist, your hip and finally down into the waistband of your underwear so he can possessively smooth it over the curve over your ass. “Stop thinking about it so hard. We’ll sort it out soon enough, once I’ve taken care of that sweet little pussy for you. Surely you wouldn’t rather I leave you high and dry?”

It’s a frustratingly easy question to answer. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I thought.” Chuckling, he gives you a tight, lingering squeeze that makes your breath catch. “Let’s get these panties off then. I have a few ideas I want to try out on you now that it’s my turn. I wonder how loud I’ll be able to make you scream this time.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #self insert bullshit

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chubbypotatoepie · 9 months ago

Text

Lily’s War (Chapter 5)

Summary: SOE Agent Lily Darlington is unexpectedly demoted from her position and offered a life changing opportunity to become the first female Paratrooper in US history?

Pairing: TBD - The suspense is part of the fun, no?

Warnings: Mentions of violence, language

A/N: Chapter 5!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Camp Toccoa, 1942.

The drizzle outside had turned the Toccoa countryside into a muddy mess. Inside the crowded bunkhouse, the air was thick with a mix of cigarette smoke and the pungent aroma of wet wool. The men of Easy Company lounged on their bunks, nursing their aliments, exhausted from a day of drills and exercises, their ears still ringing from Sobel’s screeching. The incident at the combat drill was still fresh in everyone's minds, the men sat on their cots, eyeing each other with a mix of confusion and suspicion, their usual gambling and shit-talking pushed aside for the evening. Only Luz seemed genuinely impressed, nursing his jaw where he had taken an accidental elbow from Randleman during the scuffle.

"What the hell just happened out there?" Joe Toye grumbled, fighting his lighter for a flame as he sat on his bunk, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders.

"No idea. But Lieb sure got his ass handed to him," Perconte added, throwing Toye a pack of matches as he passed, still trying to process what he'd witnessed.

Guarnere, ever the cynic, rolled his eyes. “Ain’t no way I just watched some dame outfight Liebgott. Makes no fuckin’ sense.”

Cobb, unnoticed in the doorway, listened intently. He had a habit of lurking around other bunkhouses, craving a sense of camaraderie he struggled to find in his own. His eyes, ever watchful, focused on the animated discussion as he puffed away on a cigarette.

Webster, unlaced his boots and kicked them to the side before glancing over at Luz, sat half on, half off his cot shuffling a pack of cards, grinning to himself like a Cheshire Cat. “Well you’re best friends with the girl Luz, care to enlighten us on what just went down.”

Luz looked up at the men staring in his direction. “What the hell should I know?” He said shrugging his shoulders. Webster was right that he was friends with Redcoat, but as for what just took place, he was just as baffled as the rest of the men.

Randleman chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette. ‘All I know is that Girl’s got some moves. Reminds me of a wildcat, unpredictable, shifty.”

“Alright country boy, All I’m saying is I ain’t never seen a dame fight like that, taking down Liebgott like he was a rag doll,” Gaurnere mumbled.

Malarkey, nursing a bruised ego after being taken down himself, scoffed, "Yeah, but how does a girl like her learn to fight like that? Ain't natural, if you ask me.”

Cobb, seizing the opportunity to contribute to the conversation, spoke up from the doorway. "I heard she's almost outshooting Shifty. What kind of girl can shoot like that?” The mention of her marksmanship prowess added another layer of intrigue to the already mysterious woman. The men exchanged puzzled glances, each grappling with their theories about her background and abilities.

“Yeah, and where the hell d'you hear that?” Toye replied, his eyes rolling in disbelief, barely looking in Cobbs's direction.

“Spiers.” He replied, matter of factly. “Maybe she’s a German spy, sent to sabotage us from the inside,” Cobb suggested, his voice low and conspiratorial.

The room fell silent as the suggestion hung in the air. The men exchanged uneasy glances, the idea taking root in their minds.

"A spy? Jeez, Cobb, that's a bit far-fetched," Malarkey scoffed.

"Think about it," Cobb insisted. "She just shows up out of nowhere, none of us know a damn thing about her. Almost outshooting Shifty, Liebgott getting his ass handed to him?”

"I've been shooting since I was a kid, and she was giving me a run for my money,” Shifty mentioned, shuffling his hands in his lap. “But I’m not saying she’s a spy or anything.” He shot his hands up in defense.

The bunkhouse was filled with a charged atmosphere, discomfort and suspicion swirling like a storm.

"Maybe she's some kind of martial arts expert," Perconte suggested, trying to rationalize what they had witnessed. "You know, like those Japs with their karate stuff.”

The tension was broken by Jonny Martin shoulder passing Cobb as he made his way into the bunkhouse, giving him a shifty look as he passed, soaked through from the rain.

“Who died?” He said pointedly, uncomfortable by the silence from the usually rambunctious group.

“Liebgott’s dignity.” Cobb scoffed from behind him.

Martin’s eyebrows raised in response. “Yeah, I just came from that way, had to help hold Liebgott down while they popped his arm back in. Could hear Sobel chewing her out from a mile off. He said shaking his head at the thought.

As the conversation lingered, Cobb slipped away from the doorframe, leaving the men to contemplate the enigma that had entered their ranks. In the world of war, where every secret held potential danger, the bunkhouse at Camp Toccoa became a hub of suspicion and curiosity, its occupants unwittingly drawn into a web of unanswered questions about the girl who had just proven herself more than a match for Liebgott.

— -

The flickering light from the film projector cast shadows on the walls of the dimly lit hut as the men gathered for an evening of official training films lecturing the men on the importance of hygiene. The echoes of Liebgott's disgruntled mumbles still lingered in the air, the atmosphere around the men was tense, a mixture of confusion accompanied by an undercurrent of suspicion surrounding the outsider. The War Department’s attempt at a Nickelodeon droned on as Lily sat amongst the rabble, her eyes rolling at the notion that grown men needed instruction on basic cleanliness, her expression one of amused bewilderment.

As the film extolled the virtues of regular showers, Lily couldn't help but mutter under her breath to Luz, “This is ridiculous. What’s next, a tutorial on how to tie their boots?”

Luz chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "You'd be surprised what some of these guys need to be reminded of.”

Their hushed conversation didn't escape the notice of Cobb, who sat in the row behind. Always on the lookout for an opportunity to needle Lily, he leaned in between the pair and smirked, "Well, Redcoat, maybe some folks need these lessons more than others. I've never seen you in the showers, you know.”

She turned slowly to face the man. ”Perhaps that's because I like to keep an air of mystery, Cobb. I’d rather run Currahee with Sobel strapped to my back than have to shower within ten feet of you.” Her eyes squinting as she smirked to match him.

Cobb's face reddened in embarrassment, and he retorted, "You think you're clever, don't you? Just wait till you're out there in the real action, sweetheart.” He said, folding his arms as he slunk back into his seat. Dissatisfied with the exchange, Cobb grumbled to Toye, "She's always got some smart-ass comment.”

A sshhh was aimed at Cobb from further down the row, his head whipped back and forth to find the culprit. “I’m just saying, I ain't ever seen her in the showers.” He voiced to an uninterested Toye again.

Shifty sighed, lighting up a cigarette before he answered the man. "You see, Cobb, Sobel don’t let her shower with the rest of us. Makes her wait until the coast is clear.”

Cobb's annoyance deepened. "What? Why does she get special treatment?”

“Why the hell do you care?” Toye responded, not even bothering to look in Cobb’s direction, seemingly more interested in the virtues of regular sock changes over the small man’s problem. Sensing his wall, Cobb whispered something to Liebgott, still nursing his shoulder as he replied, muttering something unintelligible, and the conversation moved on as the training film continued to play. Unbeknownst to Lily, whispers circulated among those who had overheard the conversation. Lily, caught in the crossfire of prejudice and resentment, became the unwitting target of a brewing storm within the ranks. The shadows of contention stretched across the hut, setting the stage for a night that would test the fragile bonds of brotherhood.

— -

The bathhouse at Camp Toccoa was a modest structure, a refuge for the trainees to wash away the grime of the day and the bruises of training. Lily stood alone in the quiet, having waited patiently for the usual post-training rush to subside. The air was thick with the lingering scent of soap and damp towels. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought that, perhaps, the men had indeed learned something from the training film, given that they had taken double their usual time in the showers, accompanied by the water fogging over and dripping from the unending row of mirrors.

She surveyed her reflection in the foggy mirror, her eyes drawn to the bruises adorning her face like paint. A particularly nasty shiner, courtesy of Liebgott's unyielding fist during the hand-to-hand combat drill, dominated the canvas. She sighed, tracing her fingers across the swollen skin, wincing as she met the peak, not broken-thank God, but not great either. Her hands moved up to the braided bun that sat at the nape of her neck, eager to relive the tension headache stemming from it. The pins holding it in place dinged on the sink as she shook out her long hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders. Lily threaded her fingers through the dark brunette strands, massaging her scalp as she went. It had been tempting once or twice to cut it short and mimic the men in that regard, hell it would make her life a lot easier, however, she couldn’t quite bring herself to reach for the clippers.

She pushed herself off the sink and made her way over to the shower, her body ached to stand under the hot water and wash the day away. The showers had become some sort of sanctuary for her. Sobel’s attempt at keeping her at arm's length from the men was playing to her benefit. It was the only place in the entire camp where she could be alone, a space to think, to remind herself why she joined, she craved the solace it provided.

She hung her towel on the hook outside the stall, reaching in to turn the hot water on before stepping in and allowing the hot stream to drench her body, the rhythmic patter of droplets echoed in the tiled hut, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that hung in the air. Lily couldn’t remember a time she had showered without her PT uniform still on - a precautionary measure, better to be safe than sorry she thought. She watched as the water blended her shirt with her skin, her underwear with her dirt-speckled legs. As she placed her head back beneath the water, she sensed a shift in the air - a subtle change that pricked at her instincts, unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss.

She halted, her breath shallow, straining to hear any out-of-place noise. The air seemed to thicken as the steam filled the hut, she could barely make out the muted sound of a boot squeaking on the tile floor. Before she could react, a sudden blow shot through the shower curtain and struck her side, knocking her against the shower wall. Lily gasped, pain shooting through her ribs. The dim light blurred through the shower curtain barely revealing two dark figures closing in on her. Dread set in as she realized she had been followed. The tension that had lingered since she arrived had erupted into something more sinister. The echoes of their footsteps mixed with the rhythmic pounding of the water against the tiles, created a disorienting symphony of violence. She could feel the oppressive confinement of the bathhouse closing in around her, her training instincts drowned out by the brutal reality of the ambush.

The second blow came quickly, a fist struck the side of her head, the force knocking her back against the cold, tiled wall. Lily gasped for air, her ribs protesting the impact. Before she could recover, another blow landed, this time to her stomach, doubling her over. The shadows seemed to close in, the scent of soap mixing with the metallic tang of blood. The main instigator, a burly soldier, led the charge. His accomplice, hesitant but spurred on by misplaced loyalty, flanked him. As they closed in, Lily's muscles tensed.

In the disorganized struggle, Lily managed to dodge the next blow, sliding further down the wall and jutting out her right leg from where she was slumped over, connecting with the right assailant's midsection as he moved in. However, before she could capitalize on the momentary advantage, the reality of her outnumbered position became painfully clear as her attackers overpowered her, grabbing her and hauling her out of the stall. As Lily’s abdomen took another blow, recognition flashed across the face of one of her assailants, followed by shock.

"You didn't say it was the girl!" He hissed, his initial aggression giving way to disbelief as his grip on the girl loosened.

The main assailant didn’t hesitate with his next blow, his fist connecting with the bruise already given to her that day by Liebgott, unfazed by the soldier's protest.

Cornered and outnumbered, Lily attempted to fight back with every ounce of strength she could muster. Yet, the confined space of the bathhouse restricted her movements, turning the struggle into a nightmarish dance where every move felt like a step closer to defeat. A vicious blow to her leg sunk Lily to the floor, her knees giving out beneath her. As the blows rained down, Lily's fingers groped for anything that could turn the tide. A boot, a towel, anything. Her heart stopped as her eyes landed on a speck of glitter, her fingers erratically slapped the floor in search, until they closed around what felt like an accidentally discarded razor under the sink, its cool metal offering a fleeting sense of hope. In a desperate bid for survival, Lily flung her body over, her arm carving through the air looking for her assailants. A guttural cry mixed with the sounds of struggle emanated from behind her as she slashed back, a momentary disruption in the violent ballet. However, the respite was short-lived. Her victim, blinded by rage, retaliated with a singular savage blow that sent Lily crashing against the hard, tiled shower wall. The impact reverberated through her skull, and the world blurred into a disorienting mosaic of pain and darkness. As Lily's consciousness waned, the bathhouse echoed with the retreating footsteps of the men, leaving only the oppressive silence of betrayal and brutality. The steam lingered like a shroud over the scene, and the shadows, now stained with the taste of vengeance, swallowed the fallen girl in a world where loyalty had been twisted into something unrecognizable.

— -

“You ain’t got no poker face Perconte.” George Luz jeered, leaning back on his stool as he tossed another coin onto the growing pile.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, radio-boy.” He replied, checking his cards for the third time. “I’m gonna take all your money, and then your girls tonight at the bar.”

“Sure about that, but you’re down an ace and you’ve got two 7’s & a 4 so I don’t know how you’re planning on turning that around.”

“What the hell!? You’re cheating!” Perconte erupted, throwing his cards onto the cot as he shot up from his seat.

“I can see your cards in the window reflection dumbass.” Luz laughed, leaning back on his chair, puffing away at a lucky strike.

The commotion caught the attention of Martin, the tip of his rifle glinting in the dim light, who shot a stern look at the bickering duo. “Shut up already, would ya? You got loud mouths on you.” He grumbled, trying to maintain focus on his polishing. Toye, lounging on his bunk, engrossed in a comic book added, “Yeah, I’m trying to read here, take your damn argument outside.”

The barracks erupted into chaos as insults flew across the room. Amidst the turmoil, the bunkhouse door swung open, almost unnoticed. Perconte, ready to fire back at Toye, fell silent, his gaze fixed on a young figure making her way up into the bunkhouse.

“What the hell?” Perconte whispered, one arm still pointed at Toye, the other gripping the bed frame he had been attempting to climb over, perched half on, half off the ground.

The room fell into a hush as the battered figure passed by them. Dripping wet, she silently made her way toward her cot at the rear of the bunkhouse, her eyes fixed forward, ignoring the confused and pained expressions on the faces of the men as she passed.

Liebgott’s trademark smirk vanished as his eyes fell upon the injuries that marred Lily’s face and body. “Jesus Christ.” Escaped from his lips before he even realized it.

She locked eyes with him as she passed, sending a shiver through him. Her eyes were haunting, both bloodshot red, the left curtained by a deep purple crescent-shaped bruise that was split open at the tip, and a wet trail of blood oozed its way down her reddened cheek. Joe’s eyes trailed a droplet of blood as it fell from a jaunty slit in her eyebrow. She made no attempt to blink it away, staring into him as it pooled into her wet lashes.

He felt his breath hitch as she stopped at the base of his cot, his hands tensed in his pockets and his usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. It was only seconds, perhaps just one, perhaps it was two, but to Joe, it felt like hours, his eyes scanned her as he waited. Her clothes were soaked through, with both water and blood. It clung to her figure like a whisper, revealing the lines of her body, her arms, her chest, her waist. His eyes dropped, fixing on an unsettling mark, a vivid testament to her encounter. A red-orange bloodstain, once bold and intense, now transformed into a disconcerting hue as it mingled with the damp fabric, it betrayed a muted vibrancy, creating an unappealing palette of rusty tones against the stark white backdrop of her shirt, telling a silent story. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy as his eyes took in the spectacle before him, the silence between them disturbed by the slow drip of her diluted blood onto the floorboards between them. His eyes moved up to meet hers, noticing the staggered rise and fall of her chest as she breathed through her pain. She took one last look up at the man, before walking back towards her bunk.

An uncomfortable tension hung in the air as the subsequent moments unfolded with disquieting ease. The room bore witness to a palpable weight, settling like a thick fog, as the men, observed in silent contemplation. The battered girl, a resilient figure despite her injuries, delicately moved to slide off her jump boots at the bedside. As she gingerly bent over, a wince etched across her face, George Luz felt the urge to move, to say something. Yet, his words remained unspoken, caught in his throat, as he watched in wide-eyed confusion.

“Luz” Her voice broke through the silence, grabbing the attention of every man in the room.

“Luz” She repeated, herself, her voice strained as she stared at the radioman.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, what do you need?” He hesitated, taking in a deep breath as he waited for her reply.

“A shirt.”

“Um, yeah, I’ve got you, I can do that.” Luz pushed past Perconte and started riffling through his trunk in search of a clean shirt, muttering to himself as he did. Once secured, he stood up, his eyes meeting those of Bull Randleman’s both seemingly searching each other’s for a level of understanding of what they were seeing. With a head jerk from Bull, he walked over to the girl, placing it on the bed next to her, watching her peel off her shirt, a sharp intake of breath escaped her as it moved over her fresh wound.

As the shirt slid away, it revealed an intricate tapestry of marks. The men traced their path, some fresh, some seemingly older. As the extent of her wounds emerged, the atmosphere bore witness to a sobering reality. The air seemed to tighten with a peculiar mix of discomfort, shame, and sudden awareness. The men found their eyes trailing down her body, landing at the large pronounced scar on her abdomen, Luz could feel his heartbeat in his hands as he stood next to her. The fusion of her wounds and the unveiling of her femininity momentarily disrupted their comfort, and a sense of collective venerability permeated the room.

The hallowed silence lingered, pregnant with unspoken thoughts and emotions, as the men grappled not solely with the reality of her injuries, but with the realization that beneath the uniform and the battlefield they were to share, there existed a woman with an intricate narrative - a narrative that now unfolded before them, leaving them suspended in a moment where the boundaries between soldier and woman, ally and stranger, blurred into an uneasy alliance of shared humanity.

Randleman was the first to move, exchanging a glance with Guarnere, a silent understanding passed between them. They rose from their seats across the bunkhouse simultaneously, their expressions almost unreadable, a mix of concern and an underlying anger that simmered just beneath the surface. Lily, still standing by her bunk, felt the weight of their intrigue as they approached her.

Bull, jaw clenched, spoke first. “You gonna tell us what this is?” His head loomed over hers, the perspective making her feel even smaller than usual.

Lily sniffed in response, her eyes focused on finding the opening to the shirt. “I’m fine.” She replied, her head fixed downwards. Her voice held a fragile quality, desperately trying to maintain a facade of indifference.

“Don’t look fine to me.” Guarnere cut in, his fists tightening in his pockets.

Lily remained stoic, silent. The room, buzzing with tension, held its breath as the trio engaged in a silent dance of unspoken words and palpable discomfort.

“Then I fell.” She said halfheartedly, pulling the fresh shirt over her battered frame. The crisp white cotton was marked instantly by her wounds.

“Like fuck you fell.” Guarnere moved closer to her, only to be stopped by a hand on his chest.

“Go get Doc Bill,” Martin said pointedly, ignoring the look from the fired-up man, anger etched across his face. “Roe,” Martin spoke again, pointedly.

Bull seized the opportunity before she could speak, “Roe’s gotta take a look at you. No arguments.” Lily’s resistance wavered as Bull’s stern gaze bore into hers. “If you won’t go willingly, I will pick you up and take you there myself, little bird.” His voice left no room for negotiation.

Lily’s body was beginning to feel the weight of her injuries as she stood there, the adrenaline fading away. She wiped away at a trail of blood as it threatened to trickle into her eye, wincing at the bruise it lay against. Bull Randleman’s determination seemed unwavering, his gaze drilling into her. Finally, with a resigned nod, she gave in. The room’s oppressive silence persisted, only broken by the shuffling of feet and the sound of Martin issuing orders.

�� -

The journey to the medical bay was solemn, tension and anger hung thick in the air. Bull reached out a supportive arm as they left sight of the bunkhouse, holding onto the girl with a tight grip. They walked silently, her steps slow and uneven, each footstep resonating with the gravity of the situation.

She couldn’t help but wipe the trail of blood that was escaping her nose multiple times during the walk, her fingers staining a deeper shade of crimson each time. The mounting physical pain, combined with the emotional gravity had left her in a sweat of weary resignation. Yet, she remained quiet, occasionally glancing at the faces of the men escorting her, each carrying their own blend of anger and concern.

Tag list:

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild @icantdecideofthename @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @weird-obsessed-girl

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thecelestialperiwinkle · 1 year ago

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ᰋ ׅ࣪ ꒰ tarot x zodiac signs ♡︎ a tarot reader predicting what each zodiac should expect before june ends ꒱

sun, moon and ascendant or significant signs on your birthchart is worked for this reading.

aries - seven of pentacles.

you can anticipate working on a project primarily for your own benefit, whether it's at work or in your relationships with others. you should take advantage of this opportunity to advance or work on your skills. also, pay attention to every little thing that happens to you this month because it might tell you what you're manifesting for. if you're applying for a job, they might be about to call you back. i do see this person getting a new job or starting a business on their own this month. your hard work might get you something in return.

taurus - ten of swords.

this month, you might feel really worn out. you might also discover that a someone's you've really trusted for a very long time is stabbing you in the back or talking trash about you. there is also a bad chance that someone will look down on you this month, but whatever the reason, you might end up feeling extremely worn out before the month is over. you were second-guessing yourself a great and bad deals during the current month. self-hatred is a possibility.

gemini - three of wands.

you might come to some brand-new realizations, such as continuing an old self-improvement project, making new progress toward your own self-improvement, or getting over toxic relationships and habits. this month is about moving on from the past and taking a new pathway. while, if you are manifesting someone or something. i do see that it has already manifested with this card, and your manifestation is successful - you are about to see the result.

cancer - seven of swords.

just a word of caution: don't be decisive. additionally, an air sign might attempt to influence you for their own personal advantage because, from what i can tell, you might have a positive public image, and they don't really like that at all. you have cunning adversaries all around you. this month, a lot of people have been spying on you, even on social media. (if you have a sizable and big following platforms, of course.)

leo - the chariot.

you may desire to travel or atleast have a vacation before this month ends. however, you want to focus on your goals whether it's career or study's. you will gain some attention. confidence and self-discipline is likely to workout higher. a possible rival is about to pop up.

virgo - justice.

all of our deeds have consequences whether they're good or bad - karma always kicks in. you are about to get something of what you've done but this more likely in a positive one. it's for the better. the (darkest) truth will finally come up to show themselves up. it will have an affect on you somehow and for the people around you. a new life lessons is a heading for you. be responsible for giving an opinion.

libra - five of wands.

an exciting challenge is heading up for you - this is about working on a team. if so, it's time fore you to show your real skills. it's your time to shine. you are about to get an opportunity to grow from this challenge. if you are an athlete you maybe about to get on a friendly competition - probably a martial arts. if you aren't, avoid playing gambling because you might get lost of control.

scorpio - seven of cups.

the heaven and universe will give you a lot of positive options. whether which one you are going to choose for, in the end it still gonna makes you happy. as well, pay attention to your dreams that seems vivid they're giving hints for you. messy life is about to happen most likely schedules. you will be busy and tired for this month to the point you wanted to escape the reality and just sleep and relax all day.

sagittarius - the sun.

you maybe dreaming a lot of your childhood lately this is because you maybe missed something or someone from your childhood that makes you happy. it can be grandparents, an old house or childhood friendships. you were dreaming an unknown person from your dreams this can be a soulmate. luck will surround you this month - just stay positive. someone's baby or a baby from a womb (family member or yourself) is happy to see and meet you sooner. you will get recognize because of your talents don't think that they're worthless and kitsch.

capricorn - three of pentacles.

you will meet someone whom you think is well-known person. you will be inspired to them to learn more about your skills and knowledge. it's about following your dreams. you will confess or someone's else might confess their feelings for you. if you are asking about job, you will get hired and will be under training or a promotion. your hardwork is gonna be recognize and rewarded.

aquarius - queen of wands.

you spent most of your days with nature currently and for the rest of the month. your mother or a mother figure will play important part for you this month. they can be a new friend and friendly person but somehow get jealous over someone and something this is because of their dominant ego but they're willing to stay on side always.

pisces - death.

a new beginning is about to start, you maybe sees a lot of angel numbers which is define and telling you a new start is about to come. you will cut-offs old habits that will bring a life changing ways for you. a blessings in disguise may happen. a bitter trials is exactly lying beneath of a probable gift.

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gosmigenergy · 1 month ago

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KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Three

DRINKING GAME / BREATH PLAY / FISTING (@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction)

Starring: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Summary: When you tell Jack you’ve never had whiskey before, even a shot of your employer Statesman, he comes up with a way for you to try it.

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking, language, crying, pet names, no use of Y/N, Jack being a big old softie.

Word Count: 3k

Notes: This story takes place in an AU where Statesman is just a legitimate distillery, the main characters all still work there but would have normal, none spy positions. I have no idea of these, please don’t ask me!

“What d’you mean you’ve never tried Statesman?!”

That’s how it started, a casual conversation with the infamous Whiskey and now, you found him banging on the door of your cottage in the distillery’s grounds.

You opened the door and welcomed him in.

“I already told you, I don’t drink whiskey.”

“Well, you’ve clearly never tried the beautiful balance of bold flavour in our finest proof.”

“I run the socials, Jack, you don’t need to run the copy by me.”

He was right in what he was saying, unlike the other drinks on the market, the company’s signature blend was the best.

The only whiskey you’d had shared his name and the only reason you had it then was because it was a work’s party. That night ended with one last free shot from the business’s tab and after you knocked it back, you instantly turned to the person next to you and insisted they put you in a cab.

The next day was not pretty.

“Champ doesn’t drink Statesman either.”

“True,” Jack put a finger up before pointing it at you. “But he’s a sommelier, he never swallows.”

You snort as your mind immediately goes to the naughtiest thought possible. Also, it’s sweet how Jack has so much enthusiasm behind a comment you’re pretty sure is wrong.

You scrunch your nose, “I don’t think that’s right?”

“And you know what I thinks not right?”

He picks up the bottle he’d placed on the kitchen counter, waving it gently as he swaggered towards you like any cowboy would. There was a glint in his eye and a quirk hidden under his moustache. He stood close enough for you to get a whiff of his tobacco scented aftershave, the wood undertones from a day traipsing through distillery floors.

You swallow, eyes flits from the bottle to his face.

“Wanna play a game?”

Your teeth draw in your bottom lip.

Somewhere in your cupboards, you managed to find shot glasses tucked in the furthest depths. In the distance, he took a peek, catching how your shorts rode up a little as you leaned in and behind the small wooden door.

Pleased with your hidden treasure, you wander back to Jack who’d laid out cushions on the floor opposite sides of your coffee table. He complains about a bad back which is why he claimed the side against the couch to prop himself up.

“What are we playing? I’ve got cards in the drawer.”

He waves you off.

“Hell no! Haven’t gambled in years, no, this is a game of Never Have I Ever.”

You scoff, “A college game?”

Not that you’d ever played it when you were in college, you never had the balls.

“You scared, sugar?”

Straightening your back, you fold your arms and try to give your best poker face however hard you tried, Jack knows a bluff when he sees one.

“Look, I’ll start,” he says, plucking a shot glass from you. “Never have I ever…”

He pours himself a shot, already determining that he’ll drink to this one.

“Had a Statesman whiskey.”

You smile, sitting down and tucking your legs in to get comfy. Taking the bottle, you poured each of you a shot of the liquid nectar.

“Never have I ever… dressed as a cowboy.”

He grunts, “You’re missing out.”

He took his shot and you focused on how his throat rippled as he swallowed, your heart skipping a beat when he looked right at you.

Snatching the bottle away, he planned his next move. You’ve clearly decided to play this the correct way to avoid drinking, he had to think of his question carefully. He kept his eye on you, pouring the perfect measure without spilling a drop, you tipped your head slightly in a silent admiration.

In the spirit of the season, he thought of something.

“Never have I ever… dressed in a slutty costume.”

Your eyes narrowed, finger nails clicking on the glass before you sighed and threw the whiskey down your neck.

It was nice at first, there was a buttery almost sweet flavour before you mouth was completely dominated by intense spice and sharp citrus. Then came the burn, the inside of your throat protesting as you had to cough.

“You alright, pretty lady?”

God, how that made things worse.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked as you struggled on your words.

Jack allowed you to catch your breath before he leaned back, nonchalantly throwing an arm across the couch.

“So…”

You blink at him, tears in your eyes, as his smile broadens into a cheeky grin. This wasn’t going to be about what you thought of Statesman.

“What d’ya dress up as?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Oh, he would. Based on your previous ‘Never Have I Ever’, cowboy was obviously out and there was something in your overall personality that makes him believe it wouldn’t be a cheerleader. Some girls go for princesses, angels and devils, bunny girls except none of them seem very you, no, you weren’t like the other girls.

“Never ha—“

“Hey, it’s my turn!”

“Fine,” he huffs.

You clear your throat, “Never have I ever… not not been hit on by Tequila.”

Jack doesn’t drink, his one eyebrow arching.

“You’re not gonna drink?”

“Tequila hits on everyone.”

“Fuck,” you smack your hands on the table, “are you serious?”

“Christmas party, twenty-eighteen.”

“Remind me to ask you about that one.”

He hummed, the words you just said barely sinking in, all he could think about was his next turn.

“Never have I ever… dressed as a nurse.”

A smug smile grew on your face and you propped your elbows on the table, shaking your head as you rested your chin in your palms. His brown eyes changed, he looked like a wounded puppy, how could he have got it wrong?

“I know you’re not gonna stop until you get it so I might as well tell you.”

He straightened up, leaning towards the table in curiosity.

“I dressed as,” you paused.

The shot of Statesman in your hand was more tempting now you were about to confess. Before applying for the job, you created new accounts online because you had no idea whether they’d search for you or not. Everything from your high school and college years still existed, under a pseudonym and attached to other email accounts.

Saying that, nothing would take that long for Ginger to hack.

You take a shot willingly.

“A sailor scout.”

His bottom lip fell slightly, his brows knotting further.

“Like a girl scout?”

You giggle, “No, from Sailor Moon, the anime.”

“You gonna have to give me some context.”

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you find a picture and turn the screen to him. He brings it closer, fingers flexing to zoom in on the image. As he continued to stare, he realised that maybe he really didn’t know that much about you.

“Which one were you?”

“Embarrassingly, I was the Sailor Moon, the one with the buns.”

“And the knee high boots?”

You break eye contact, feeling the temperature rise in your cheeks as you manage to make the smallest noise of agreement.

It’s not to say that Jack couldn’t imagine you in an incalculable amount of outfits but now, he was not going to be able to imagine you any other way. He didn’t even need to see a photo of you in it, he could happily make up his own.

The bow would barely cover your boobs, the white in the outfit would be mesh, the pleated skirt wouldn’t be able to contain your ass and those bright red boots would have to be platform.You could forget about the hair, he didn’t want it to be one hundred percent accurate, he just wanted you in it for him.

Yet he couldn’t tell you that.

“You still got it?”

A cushion hit him square in the face.

“I apologise.”

He holds his hands up though he can’t help noticing how tense your frame has become, how you can’t make eye contact and how your clearly starting to sweat. Taking your glass, he filled it back up again before sliding it over, taking his own in his other hand.

He jutted to you.

“Your turn.”

Time passed and the pair of you had possibly gotten through three quarters of a bottle, you couldn’t be sure. Your head was fuzzy, eyes struggling to stay in one place and the man opposite seemed as sober as when he walked in. Jack wasn’t sober, he knew he wasn’t, he had entered the giggling stage because grown men can no matter how much they deny it.

You had both learnt something new about the other.

If it wasn’t for his childhood sweetheart, he would have joined a travelling rodeo, to which you questioned if they were real. It wasn’t the first time you’d applied to join Statesman, you even tried applying for their distant cousin company Kingsman then you freaked out when they discussed you moving to England.

There were other stupid drunken conversations about remembering your first kisses, what actually was your tipple of choice and how you couldn’t ride a horse though he insisted he could teach you.

“I dunno,” your words come from gritted teeth.

“Who else is gonna teach you? Tequila?”

He knows Tequila won’t teach you right, the boy pretends to be a cowboy.

You laugh from deep in your belly, “Fuck no!”

He’s happy you’re in agreement.

“You’re probably the better teacher.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jack leaned back and stretched his broad shoulders, the buttons on his chest straining. Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip and suddenly, you realise you’re leering, you shake it off quite literally.

“You don’t remember the first day we met?”

He juts his chin, “It’s a little hazy.”

It’s not, he remembers it clear as day.

“I was so fucking terrified, I’d just watched the city disappear behind me and the car pulled into the estate miles away from the distillery. I stupidly wore heels to make a good first impression and the moment I stepped out, I regretted it…”

He was too polite to say anything back then.

“They told me Champ was in a meeting and that he would send one of his men to come meet me. I thought he was already planning on getting rid of me, like a hitman was gonna show, but then I heard the clomping of horse shoes in the distance and in comes this cowboy riding the biggest stallion…”

His lopsided grin brought the creases to the corner of his eyes.

“I heard there were stables on site, ready for when Statesman expanded but I didn’t believe it till then. They stopped right in front of me and I craned my neck up to look at them, the light just catching on the brim of their hat. In a Southern drawl, they asked me why such a pretty lady had decided to come all the way out here…”

He remembers how you laughed, how shyly you looked away from him when he asked.

“Before saying ‘The folks round here call me Whiskey but you can call me Jack’.”

And you always did.

“Christ, I sound like a tool,” he shakes his head.

“I dunno,” you shrug, “you left quite the impression on me.”

His eyebrows raised, “Really?”

The alcohol in your system aids a new found confidence.

“I’m surrounded by desk jockeys all day, it’s quite refreshing when you finally waltz into the office and whisk me away.”

Spending time with Jack was always like a daydream from a ridiculous smutty novel your grandma used to read, it wouldn’t surprise you if one day he sauntered in, scooped you from your ergonomic chair and take you even further from civilisation.

A girl can dream.

“I don’t do that.”

He tried to put you off his scent.

You laugh, “Yes, you do.”

Jack was beginning to sweat under his checked shirt collar, should I tell her? When he broke eye contact, you thought you were losing him and in your intoxicated mind, you couldn’t let that happen.

“Not that I mind, I quite like it when you do,” your voice dropped a few decibels, a wave of anxiety washing over you. “Actually, I love it when you do, in a way that makes me wish I’d read the fine print because I don’t know what the rule is about employees dating.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, his haziness making it difficult to figure out whether that was a confession. His lack of response sinks to the bottom of your stomach, it churns.

Your hands flex, your nervous system beginning to set into fight or flight mode as you bring yourself up from the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

The blood rushed to your head as you stand up straight and you sway before managing to get one foot in front of the other.

“Wait.”

A hand came to your wrist, holding you steady and you glance down to see him on his knees. Putting a free hand on the coffee table, he hauled himself up with a wobble.

“Are you sayin’ you like me?”

His fingertips graze over your pulse, it was picking up speed along with the rise and fall of your chest.

You don’t look at him when you deliver a timid nod.

He takes a step closer, the temperature rising between you. His thumb comes to the bottom of your chin, the rest of his hand picking up your jaw so you meet face to face. It pulls on his heartstrings to see your eyes turn glossy, tears ready to start falling.

You were waiting for the inevitable rejection.

“Please, sugar, I’d hate to see you cry.”

You immediately cover your face, of course his comment would make you cry.

He thought of the best way to fix this. Letting go of your wrist, he curled an arm across your lower back, pushing you into his frame. Squeezing his other arm from between your two bodies, he placed a warm palm to your back and rubbed soothingly.

“Now I feel like an idiot, I thought it was pretty damn obvious I liked you.”

Going back, it is fucking obvious.

From the moment you got here, Jack cured your home sickness, protected you from the likes of Tequila and had your back when decisions were made. There were so many times where the pair of you had snuck into the kitchen after hours and had the chef skim off a bowl of chilli for you to share.

You’d danced until 1am around the 4th of July bonfire and he covered your sick in sawdust when you bolted into the stables during the tour the next day. Hell, he even arrived at your door on Christmas Eve the first holiday you were here to see if you wanted company.

You splutter a mixture of a laugh and cry as everything became clearer.

“No, it’s my fault.”

You always missed the signs.

He holds you for as long as you need, until you wriggle, your arms wrapping around his frame. With your face still buried in his chest, you angle your head so you can look up at him and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes gaze down on you.

The heat rises in your chest and face.

“Will you stay?”

He only just hears your muffled query.

“Course I will.”

Looking round, the view of the mess you’d made was more apparent. There was circles from the glasses, spills here and there where you’d enthusiastically poured yourself another. He doesn’t even remember when the snacks came out, put they were spewed across the table, scraps on the cushions.

He tries to peel himself away from you but your fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands glide over your arms leading themselves to yours and as they enveloped them, the pair of your fingers intertwined. He prised you from him before bringing your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to both sets of knuckles.

“You head up to bed, I’ll clear this up.”

The brightness in your smile returns, “How gentlemanly of you.”

“Well, manner maketh man.”

He puffs out his chest as you giggle.

“Still can’t believe you almost chose merry old England over us.”

“Lucky for you, I much prefer here.”

You lift your head up enough for him to lean down and kiss you gently on the cheek. His sloping nose brushes the tip of yours, moustache tickling your upper lip, he waits for you to come to him. You kiss softly and quickly before leaning deeper into him, building the strength of your kiss.

“I’d like to do this all night but now’s not the time.”

Even with your confession, Jack didn’t want to take advantage, there was the possibility you’d wake up in the morning and regret the whole thing.

“Just one more.”

You say it so sweetly, how can he resist?

Once satisfied, you break away before scurrying off and up the stairs like you were some sort of naughty school girl. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he reaches for the glasses, corking up what’s left of the whiskey.

By the time he staggered upstairs himself, you were out cold, still fully dressed and bundled in the duvet.

He couldn’t do that himself, he had to rid himself of his tight jeans, tossing them to the chair in the corner. He unbuttoned his shirt another two as he picked up the corner of the covers, slipping carefully underneath.

You grunted but didn’t move an inch.

He repositioned himself, rolling onto his side. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, the features of your face becoming visible. You looked so peaceful, lips parted, your eyelashes casting the faintest of shadows. Stretching out a hand, he placed his palm on your cheeks, the heat from the alcohol in your system still there.

When he strokes his thumb right along the bone, you let out the softest sigh.

And he still thought you were the prettiest lady to step foot on the grounds of the Statesman distillery, even if you’ve only just tried their whiskey.

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x you #fanfic

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bad-ending-cards · 2 years ago

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Another Contestant Comes To Play~?

While you were minding your own business, you spotted two people playing cards. One of them seemed to be winning by a lot, and had incredibly high stacks of money in front of him. Gambling is almost completely illegal in Japan, so this is almost sure to result in an arrest if they're caught. And yet, even so, the fact that one of them had won by so much... The loser lays his head on the table and cries in despair, while the winner notices you staring, and winks at you.

"Care for a game or two~? I'll try not to rob you too hard," he jokes, offering some cards to you, which he bad stolen from the loser. "How's about it? Care for a bet with the Ultimate Gambler?"

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed! Mods that play Kokichi or Kotoko on any blog in any capacity, please DNI! ))

@human-monokuma @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @flower-boy-blues @appetite-of-a-candy-addict (thanks again for letting me use the sprites!!) @obsessivexngel @bloodied-gears-of-hope @pink-cross-nurse @theishimarusibs @ask-the-ultimate-cosplayer @tsumugishirogone and anyone else!

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sophierequests · 2 years ago

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a deal is a deal // set it up part one

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: I have no words or reason for this fic. I watched the movie 'Set It Up' recently, and I just knew that I had to write a fic inspired by it. I didn't intend on indulging in it this much, but this fic will definitely be a two-partner since I have written almost 10K words and I can't possibly post that monstrosity in good conscience. I absolutely love the concept of matchmaking and fake dating, so consider this fic one huge clusterfuck of tropes I enjoy. And I hope all of you can enjoy it too <3

You can find part two here!

Summary: Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.0K

Warnings: Cursing, feelings, Kaz being a little bitch, pining, mention of his touch aversion

“Unless you saw someone cheat at Three Man Bramble, I don’t appreciate you spying on paying customers.” You were close to falling off your barstool when Kaz’s voice materialised beside you all of a sudden.

“For Saints’ sake, Kaz!” you hissed at the darkly-clad man leaning against the bar to your left, a certain look of amusement accentuating his features as he saw the way you panickedly held onto the counter. He shook his head at how easily startled you were. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I was dangerously close to knocking you out.”

He raised his brows, throwing a telling glance at his cane, and then back at you. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly his speciality. At least not during the main business hours of the Crow Club. He preferred to make his presence known.

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop prying?” Kaz repeated nervelessly when your eyes returned to the card’s table you had been staring at for about half an hour now. Not that he would know how long you had been sitting here. It’s not like he had been watching you during said half an hour. He had other - a lot more significant - tasks to tend to, rather than wasting his time by letting himself get distracted by you.

“Shush,” you silenced him quickly, craning your head slightly towards him to get a better view of your stalking victims. “I’m not spying on paying customers. I’m spying on Jesper and Wylan. That’s as far away from paying customers as it can get.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Jesper went right to the gambling tables after we came back from the job earlier, and he has stayed there ever since. I assume you can guess who has been standing right next to him for just as long? Our little merchling is so in love, it’s painful to watch,” you whispered excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Kaz was not one to necessarily care for dull relationship gossip.

“I should stop giving you this much time off if this is how you choose to spend it,” he grumbled, subtly following your gaze to watch the terribly awkward scene between the two Crows. Not because he genuinely cared about their immature ways of expressing their emotions, of course.

“Don’t be such a grump, Brekker,” you snorted, giving him a playful eye roll. “Admit it, they’d make such a cute couple! They could probably even compete with Nina and Matthias - don’t tell her I said that.”

“Judging by the fact that Zenik and Helvar were blood-sworn enemies before they fell into their…situationship, that won’t be such a difficult task.”

“See! You think they’d be a great fit too! What a shame one is just as oblivious as the other,” you sighed, twirling around the few remaining ice cubes that floated around in your drink.

“And you think staring them down will help ease their obliviousness?” Your head turned to face him fully, a mischievous glimmer present in your eyes. A glimmer he really didn’t like.

“Help me,” you blurted out.

“Help you with what?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh, uhm, I have no concise plan yet since I thought you’d just immediately say no to me asking you for help. What I know is that I can’t watch them tiptoe around their feelings any longer. I need to do something. And you are precisely the right person to help me with that.”

“What exactly makes me the ‘right person’ to help you with getting these two idiots together?”

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaz answered determinedly, choosing to not indulge in your childish games any longer. “As long as it’s not affecting their job performance, their relationship is none of my concern. I have more important things to do than worry about their problems with intimacy.”

“Come on, Kaz. Please?” you pouted as the man in question already shifted to head back to his office again.

“No, Y/N. They’ll be fine without our interference,” he tactfully ignored your overly dramatic plea.

“Alright, alright,” you mumbled, watching him leave with a hint of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’ll regret it eventually.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Jesper, you’ll need to- Jesper? Jesper, focus,” Kaz ordered, having to pry the sharpshooter’s eyes away from the window for what felt like the hundredth time today. He, Inej and the lovesick Zemeni boy had been working on the details of a minor upcoming job for over two hours, seemingly not making any noticeable progress. It was safe to say that this issue was instantly accredited to Jesper, whose mind appeared to be somewhere completely else.

Even though Kaz didn’t want to admit it, he did regret not taking you up on your offer of trying to get the two together. It had become more and more evident that they were too blind to see that their feelings were mutual, and Kaz was starting to get sick of it. Why couldn’t they just act on their feelings and spare everyone around them the pain of having to watch them act like insecure little kids? What did they have to lose? It was ridiculous, really.

Kaz knew that he was close to losing his patience. And his composure would jump out of the window soon after if things didn’t change.

“Sorry boss,” Jesper apologised hastily, sitting up a bit straighter and at least acting as if his attention was back on the mindless scribbles in front of him. “I was just a bit lost in thought. The…weather is so pretty today, after all.”

The weather in question was a mixture of dark gloomy clouds and the occasional rain shower - a typical day in Ketterdam, but definitely far from pretty. Maybe the weather that Jesper had in mind was ginger and able to play the flute, Kaz thought.

“We should probably leave this here,” he let out a huffed breath, meeting Inej’s confused glance.

“What? But the jo-”

“The job can only work if everyone is on the same page,” he interjected Jesper’s unnecessary attempt at defending himself. “You can leave - both of you. I’ll see what I can work out on my own.”

“Are you sure you won’t need any help with this?” the Suli girl asked hesitantly, waiting for her friend to give them another task instead of just letting them off the hook this easily.

“No, it’s fine. Go,” he nodded towards the door, his eyes following Jesper, who was already on his way out. Before Inej could do the same, he decided to give her one last task. “Inej? Tell Y/N to come up here in the next five minutes. I need to discuss something with them.”

“You wanted to see me, boss?” you questioned as soon as you entered Kaz’s semi-tidy office space. When Inej told you that he wanted to speak to you, your heart almost sunk to the bottom of your stomach. People being called up to speak to Kaz rarely ever got out with their dignity still intact.

“Sit,” he demanded, his gaze never leaving the papers on his desk as he motioned for you to sit in the chair across from him.

“Kaz, if this is about th-”

“Don’t start. Whatever you were about to tell me has probably not been brought to my attention yet, so I won’t allow it to occupy my mind until it pops up on its own. Now sit.”

You carefully obeyed his request, slowly sinking into the offered chair while your eyes still remained fixed on the man in front of you.

“He has become absolutely insufferable,” Kaz sighed, letting his fountain pen drop out of his hand and finally acknowledging your physical presence with a defeated glare. “I didn’t even think it was possible for him to become even more intolerable.”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about? Our favourite bawdy flirt-gill has been acting like an infatuated teenage girl and it is driving me mad.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Jesper!” you let out a stifled laugh upon seeing his tired expression. “So you’re basically admitting that I was right about us having to intervene?”

“I’m merely admitting that there was some truth to what you were saying. Don’t get it twisted and don’t get used to it,” he corrected dryly. “And wipe that self-satisfied grin off your face. I didn’t call you up here to bask in your supposed victory.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do about it?” you replied sheepishly, fully aware that you were dangerously close to testing your limits.

“I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like this.”

“Consider it a deal.”

“When I told you that I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like a dotty puppy, I didn’t mean that you were allowed to barge into my office whenever you please,” your boss grumbled, watching you stumble through the door like you had one drink too many.

“Good morning, Kaz, it’s lovely to see you too,” you dismissed his very obviously spiteful remark, walking right up to the chair you had dubbed yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our two problem children and I had an idea.”

“Oh, so miracles do happen,” he jeered, letting himself lean back in his chair as he watched you get comfortable.

“With all due respect - which isn’t a lot - go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll consider it once you’re done telling me about that magnificent idea of yours.”

“Okay, so, Wylan just stopped me in the hallway to ask whether I want to get coffee with him next Friday.” A waterfall of words began to tumble out of your mouth, giving Kaz quite a few difficulties following what you were trying to say. “So, wouldn’t it be an absolute coincidence if Jesper would also go out for a coffee on Friday? It would be such a nice change of pace for them to spend time with…different people - other than us.”

“I am not asking Jesper to go get coffee with me,” Kaz replied laconically, giving you a dissatisfied look in an attempt to convey that he was not too fond of your musings.

“I am not asking you to get a coffee with Jesper - Saints, that man is going to think that you have a thing for him. We don’t even have to leave the Slat for this plan to work.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Please explain to me again why specifically I have to join you on that job?” Jesper bemoaned as he followed Kaz down the stairs. He was not in the mood for playing his boss’ bodyguard today. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave the Slat. It didn’t help that a certain merchling had been occupying his mind for the entirety of last week, pushing every coherent thought to the furthest corner of his brain. “Can’t you ask Inej? Or Matthias? Or literally anyone else? Wait, why don’t you just ask Y/N? You two seem to be getting along surprisingly well recently.”

“Y/N is already busy,” Kaz objected skilfully. “And having a normal work relationship is not the same as ‘getting along surprisingly well’. Flush these thoughts out of your system immediately.”

“I’m just saying,” Jesper snickered, putting his hand up in front of him defensively.

“Kaz? Jesper?” your cheery voice greeted them as soon as they entered the living room area. Wylan and you had been lounging on the couch for quite some time now, simply chatting about life - and love, even though Wylan refused to give you too much information on his ill-fated crush. Of course, you had ulterior motives for staying that long, but your friend didn’t know that. “What are the two of you up to?”

"We have a job near Fourth Harbour," Kaz replied sternly.

"And he's forcing me to come with him," the sharpshooter groaned, his eyes drifting towards the timid boy sitting next to you, flashing him a cocky wink. "What are you up to? Whatever it is, it looks like a lot more fun than whatever Mister Ruin-My-Mood has in store for me."

"Jesper," Kaz warned, throwing you a quick glance, wordlessly asking you to take over.

"We wanted to head out for coffee and some sweet treats later," you mused, watching Jesper's expression turn sour.

"Won't you look at that, Kaz? This is what other friends do in their spare time," he grumbled.

"Hey, why don't you two just go and grab a coffee?" you offered, your gaze wandering between the two soon-to-be lovebirds.

"Us?" Wylan stammered, his finger pointing from him to Jesper, who looked equally as befuddled.

"Yes, you. Jes clearly isn't in the mood for going on a job today, and I haven't been on a proper one in ages," you suggested, giving your friends an encouraging smile.

"You genuinely want to join Kaz on a job with just the two of you? Like willingly?" the Zemeni boy joked, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

"I'm sure I'll manage. Kaz?" You gave him an expectant look, watching as the ghost of a smirk flashed over his lips.

"Fine," he rasped, causing Jesper to break out into a wide grin, whilst Wylan looked a little short of horrified. "Maybe now we'll actually get some work done."

"And maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet, won't we? I haven’t gone out just to get coffee in such a long time.” His attention turned to the young merch, whose head had turned as red as the soles of Jesper’s shoes.

“I’m sure you will have the loveliest of days,” Kaz deadpanned, gesturing for you to follow him outside into the hallway.

“Enjoy your day!” you called before quickly exiting the living room, leaving Wylan alone to deal with his crush. You could have sworn that he mouthed the word ‘help’ before you crossed the threshold to the corridor.

“That worked way better than I had expected,” he uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear his words clearly.

“I told you it would work,” you bragged, earning a disapproving headshake from the man standing next to you. “You’re not the only mastermind in this team.”

“So what’s the next step in your plan then?”

“We could just stay back here and wait for them to come back. I’m sure they’d tell us if something happened between them.” You locked eyes with him again, the intensity causing goosebumps to spread over his arms. “Or we could get out and follow them. Just to make sure that they’re alright of course.”

“I’m not following them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kaz said as he watched you gape at Jesper and Wylan who were currently sitting on the terrace of the café you had pushed them to go to. You found a corner table at the bakery across from where your friends were sitting, giving you the chance to stay unnoticed while also being able to see whatever was going on between them.

“This is fun,” you hummed, leaning a bit further forwards to flash Kaz a cheeky smile, which was slightly hidden by the obnoxious fake roses in the middle of the table. “Don’t you want to see how this will turn out?”

“No.” You frowned at the impassive tone of his voice.

“You didn’t have to join me, Kaz.” He didn’t. He knew that. As a matter of fact, the pile of unfinished documents on his desk only seemed to get higher by the minute. Yet, against all his better judgement, he still abandoned his work in an instant just to go and see whether your plan was working or not. It was foolish to agree to it, however, for some reason, he still did. He was going insane - he was sure of it.

“I don’t trust you to not fuck this up on the first chance you get,” he stated after a short moment of him just staring at the empty space beside your head.

“You trust no one, yet I don’t see you holding Matthias’ hand whenever you let him go on a solo job - well, metaphorically holding his hand.”

Before Kaz could defend himself, the waitress approached your table, bringing over both of your drinks. She had a sickly sweet smile on her painted lips that made him want to bash his head onto the table. He resisted said urge in order to not make a scene though.

“I’ll assume the black coffee is for you?” the woman joked, eying Kaz’s grimly-looking outfit from head to toe, silently accepting the cup and placing it in front of him. She handed you the drink you had ordered and turned around to attend to the other guests. “Feel free to call me over in case you need anything else. Enjoy your date!”

Kaz almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. This was not a date. Not in a million years would he consider this a date. He attempted to seek some sort of confirmation that you shared his sentiment, but when he looked at your face, you didn’t even seem to care about the waitress’ atrocious assumption.

“What is it?” you inquired lowly on taking notice of his slightly bewildered expression.

“She thinks that this is a date. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“… No? Why should it have?” Kaz mentally thanked his luck that Nina wasn’t around. If she had been here to hear the way his heart was running wild she would have probably thought he had a heart attack.

“This is not a date.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that fact,” you let out a breathy chuckle in response to that. “And that’s exactly why it doesn’t bother me. I know that this isn’t a date. You know that this isn’t a date. So why should it matter what some random waitress thinks?”

“Oh…” For some odd reason, your answer disappointed him. This wasn’t a date, so you were right to say it. But something inside of him was beginning to make itself known.

“Oh no,” you muttered, your gaze back on the people you were actually here for. He did the same, regretting it immediately as he saw the uncomfortable scene playing out in the other café.

Wylan and Jesper were sitting across from each other at one of the tables on the terrace, giving you the perfect view of every interaction between them. But instead of them looking like the happy couple you had imagined they would be by now, Jesper was frantically collecting paper napkins, trying to help Wylan clean up the massive coffee stain that had formed a deep brown blotch on his previously neat beige sweater. And to make things even worse, the clumsy sharpshooter had taken matters into his own hands, pulling the flustered boy closer to him by the collar, whilst wiping a dry napkin over the mess he made - his face a mixture of despair and complete distress.

“Idiots,” Kaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to spare himself the embarrassment of watching them any longer.

“Maybe we should put them in a situation they’re more acquainted with the next time.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of knocking?” He was close to jumping out of his skin when the door to his office flew open without a warning, only for it to be you standing on the other side with two cups of tea in your hands. He hastily caught himself, acting as if you hadn't just scared him shitless. It was way too late for any person with even an ounce of self-preservation skills to enter his space without giving him any sort of notice, but of course, you just had to be the exception.

“Are you familiar with the concept of locking your door if you don’t want to be disturbed?” you quipped, not waiting for him to give you permission to enter before waltzing right over to his desk. The mug was quickly placed in front of him and you threw yourself into ‘your’ chair.

“This may be the Barrel, but some of its inhabitants still possess the basic manners of announcing their presence when they intend to bother me in my own office.” Kaz eyed your offering suspiciously, pulling the cup towards himself as if he feared that you might have spiked its content. “What is this?”

“Tea?”

“I know that it’s tea. I'm not dense,” he said, a bit annoyed now.

“Then why are you asking?”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Kaz, you’re not a toddler. You know what to do when someone places a drink in front of you.”

“Why are you bringing me tea, Y/N?”

“That's an adequate question. I had another idea on how to get Jesper and Wylan to admit their feelings,” you began, enticing Kaz to internally question every single decision in his life that made him end up in this situation.

“And you needed to bring me tea to make me listen to that idea? You're either about to drug me into submission or you’re finally attempting to kill me.”

“Sadly neither - yet. But I had the idea while making tea. And I would have felt bad if I went up here without offering you something to drink too,” you replied meekly, a faint blush settling on your cheeks.

“I hope your idea isn’t tea-related. We shouldn’t bring the two dimwits near anything that's spillable anytime soon.”

"I solemnly swear there are no liquids involved in my idea. At least not explicitly," you assured.

"That better be the case. Let's hear it then," he muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip from his tea whilst waiting for you to collect your thoughts. It startled him how good the drink tasted. He hated that you knew exactly what tea he liked and how he liked to have it.

"You still haven't finished splitting us up in groups for the upcoming heist, have you?"

"If you hadn't dragged me along to play matchmaker, the plan would already stand," he grumbled, looking at the stack of blueprints he had yet to analyse for possible security risks.

"Then I'd like to make one suggestion. How about we - well, you - pair Jesper and Wylan together? We're all pretty familiar with jobs like this, so that shouldn't be an issue. Maybe having them work alongside each other could give their relationship just the push it needs."

Kaz looked like he was about to throw himself out the next best window. It was one thing that you had inserted yourself into the majority of his spare time like an unwelcome flu. Now you were also trying to insert yourself into his work? You were really trying to break him down to bits. And maybe he should let you.

"Please, Kaz. I'll even help you with all your boring preparation and mapping out. I genuinely think this could work," you put forward, knowing that the likelihood of him agreeing to this plan was close to non-existent.

"I'll allow it," he said, averting his eyes to look at basically anything else just to avoid letting them land on you.

"What?"

"Have you gone deaf? I said that I'll allow it," he repeated.

"Kaz, I swear to every Saint you don't believe in, I'm so close to kissing you - you’re amazing!" you exclaimed jokingly, a wide grin on your face.

"Do it and find out what ditch you'll end up in," he threatened, but you were too excited to care about the murderous look on his face.

After almost a week of scheming, scheduling and planning in the security of Kaz’s office, you had finally managed to put together a plan that would ensure two things. The success of the job. And the fact that Jesper and Wylan would be staying at each other’s side the whole time.

“I think we can pull this off,” Kaz muttered, visibly still very much in thought.

“You think we can pull this off?” you asked, absent-mindedly twirling one of his pens around your fingers.

“No.” He swiftly snatched it back, putting it down and giving you a self-assured grin. “We will pull this off.”

A few days later, all the Crows had gathered in the cramped attic space, more or less eager to hear about the plans for the upcoming mission.

“Please don’t tell me that we’ll have to go through all of these blueprints again,” Jesper whined as he saw the stack of layout plans that sat at the edge of Kaz’s desk. They had been on jobs in the University District before, so the quite hefty pile of blueprints wasn’t completely unknown to them. More than one evening had been spent slaving over them, spying out every minuscule detail that could give them any sort of advantage. But these plans were new - updated. And everyone dreaded having to do the whole ordeal of looking at them for a second time.

“Y/N and I already went through them, the annotations should suffice. Not much has changed,” Kaz answered, unaware of the suspicious glances his nonchalant comment created. It was well known that you avoided mapping out blueprints like the plague, so this revelation did raise some brows.

“Y/N and you?” Nina and Jesper blurted almost synchronously. They had noticed your absence from their usual evening get-togethers, simply chalking it up to you being under the weather or something. What they hadn’t expected was you sneaking away from them because you went to spend time with the Bastard of the Barrel. Now that they knew the latter had been the case, they had some certain thoughts on what the reason for these nightly visits might be - none of them strictly work-related.

“Congratulations, you have a basic understanding of auditory information processing. Yes, Y/N and I.” Kaz allowed his gaze to shift towards you. It felt odd to not have you sit in front of him, energetically discussing plans and ideas while the noise of Ketterdam’s streets seemed to have fully vanished underneath the sound of your voices. He hated to think that way, but he had grown used to having you around. Whether it be you staggering into his office to propose another utterly insane plot to get your friends to date, or just you keeping him company with whatever talk you could offer. The thought of this routine being ripped away from him once Jesper and Wylan realise their feelings are reciprocated filled him with more dissatisfaction than relief.

“Since when does Y/N care for analysing blueprints?” The Heartrender asked slyly.

“I don’t. It was my forfeit,” you replied before Kaz could. “We had a bet on how much money Jesper would be able to lose in a span of three days. Let’s just say that Kaz really does know you better than I do, Jes.” A lie. A good lie, Kaz thought. The only reason why you would spend your evenings talking to him would probably be the loss of a bet. But that didn’t make the pull on his heartstrings hurt any less.

“Rude,” the sharpshooter pouted.

“Anyway,” Kaz deflected, returning to his actual intention of this meeting. “We also took the liberty of assigning groups and tasks. So I’d advise you to listen carefully.” He adjusted the paper in his hands, letting his eyes fly over your jagged handwriting for the millionth time. “Helvar will pose as a guard - big and brawny with little to think about. One would say it’s the perfect fit.” Matthias let out a dissatisfied grunt at that comment. “Nina and Inej will keep an eye on who leaves, and who enters. And if there is anything suspicious you will alert me.” The two girls gave him a court nod, content that they were able to work together again. “I will attend as a guest. It’ll give me enough time and trust to hopefully get some information on the new ware shipments that are supposed to arrive the week after the ball. Our main objective is getting intel. Any other material acquisitions are just perks. And finally Wylan and Jesper.” The two boys stared at Kaz with an uncomfortable expression. He had never paired them up before. Why was he starting now? “Since the majority of university personnel will be present at the ball, you’ll take care of breaking into the administration’s office. I need some precise data on the involvement of the Council in sponsoring the university.”

“What about Y/N?” A brief pause followed Inej’s simple question.

After all these hours of planning, you had forgotten to add yourself to the equation. You had been so focussed on giving the two lovebirds some alone time that your absence went completely unnoticed. Both of you felt utterly stupid. How could you have missed that?

“They’ll be my date,” Kaz answered a bit too quickly, not letting the thudding of his heart betray his stone-faced expression.

“My condolences.” Matthias gave you an apologetic but calm look, whilst everyone else in the room seemed to be utterly shocked by their boss’ comment. Even you had to suppress the state of absolute shock that had threatened to spread over your face when he referred to you as his ‘date’. Saints, he himself didn’t believe the words that had just slipped out of his mouth.

“I’ll need someone to chat with the merchant spouses, or else I’ll lose my mind. Their presence can buy me enough time to get the information I need,” he explained, but the majority of his friends were too busy interpreting way too much into this situation to acknowledge his reasoning.

Maybe choosing Jesper as a partner would have been easier on his poor heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

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#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #kaz brekker fluff

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