Pairing: Hangman x Reader
Warnings: Passing out, Swearing
Request: yes! by a lovely anon, find it here
Word Count: 7.9k
Synopsis: Due to some grueling training and the extreme heat, you find yourself passing out from heat exhaustion. Luckily, Hangman is there to catch you.
A/n: first Hangman fic lets goooo ! love this guy and it was such a pleasure writing for him :)
GIF by @unicornships
Keep reading
Word Count: 4.6k
I cut down some of the less, y’know, important stuff (the plot lol)
Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), fem!reader, awkward first times, awkward af, the reader is a dipshit. I’m ngl this isn’t one of those cute first time fics where virgin!reader is suddenly a sex goddess, you are legitimately an idiot. As usual, written with a plus size!reader in mind.
Sanji finds out you’re a virgin. You suck his dick. Congrats!
Sanji was going to fucking lose it. Out of all the possible scenarios Sanji never once considered Nami would take you out to a bar to pick up guys. He brooded as he nursed his drink, Zoro rolling his eyes at the display. Sanji just growled. Usopp looked between them.
"How about another round? 'Nother milk Lu? Hey Sanji, why don't you come with me? I saw some hot chicks up at the bar."
Sanji just shook his head brooding. He looked to where you stood with Nami, laughing at some guy's jokes. He felt stupid at how jealous he felt.
"Hey, Sanj, man. Nami isn't gonna reciprocate y'know?" Usopp offered lightheartedly. Zoro scoffed from next to him.
"It's not about Nami for once."
---
When Sanji's eyes found you again he saw you alone with the same guy, nursing a drink. Now that Nami was gone he could see the atmosphere had changed, you didn't seem happy like before. He watched as the guy said something and you shrugged halfheartedly. The guy then proceeded to wrap his arm around you. Sanji had known you long enough to see how uncomfortable you looked. Anger flared in his chest. The final straw was seeing the guy trying to tug you out of the booth to leave. You looked so defeated, it hurt. He began stalking his way to your booth.
"C'mon sweetcheeks, let's leave this dump."
"I'm good thanks, I should get back to my friends."
"I already told you bitch, we're going. I didn't spend all this time fucking around to go home empty handed. You're lucky I even stayed once your hot friend left. I'm doing you a favour, so hurry the fuck up."
"No, I really don't want to." You began, the man snarled, grabbing your wrist.
"It wasn't a question. You owe me. I don't go for ugly, but a hole's a hole, and from the back you're probably passable."
You had tears in your eyes from embarrassment. This whole trip was a bad idea. You wish Nami would come back. As the man tugged on your wrist harder you heard that gorgeous voice ring out. You tried to hide your face so Sanji wouldn't see the tears in your eyes. That last thing you wanted was for the crew to think you're weak.
"That's no way to win hearts Sunshine. So uncouth, and frankly, disgusting behaviour."
"Who the fuck are you? How about you mind your own business?"
"And watch such a beautiful lady be treated that way?"
"Beautiful lady my ass. The only thing you can know for sure about girls like this is that their pretty pussy is untouched." The man barked out a laugh causing you to wince. He snaked his other arm to cup your breast over your dress. You saw something flash in Sanji's eyes. "And I know I'm gonna really enjoy these."
You squirmed, before biting the man. He howled in pain, releasing his hold on you. You quickly made your escape, rushing to cling to Usopp and Luffy, crying. You felt pathetic. Embarrassed that all eyes were on you.
Sanji saw red. You blinked back tears as you called out to him. Sanji was protective of all of you, but he seemed especially so of you. You knew it was because he saw you as some kind of little sister. "It's okay Sanji. Really, let's just go home. Please."
"No." He fixed the drunk man with a freezing gaze. "You dare touch someone so out of your league? I asked you nicely to piss off, but now I'm going to fucking kill you."
Before you could react Sanji had kicked the man in the chest. You watched as he began ruthlessly kicking and stomping the man, muttering profanities and sentences you couldn't understand. With a final stomp he huffed. Zoro finally pried Sanji away. You saw Nami returning, fuming. If you weren't so traumatised by the night you would have laughed at how Zoro pried Nami away too, holding the two brawlers by the scruff as they fought against it, looking like wet cats.
You don't remember how you got home. You remember Usopp covering you in his coat and dragging you out of the bar. You remember apologising to Usopp, crying that you needed to go back. The last thing you remember was Luffy running to join you, scooping you up and starting the walk back to the Going Merry, you, falling asleep in his rubbery arms.
---
"Ah my dear, you're finally awake. I made you something to eat."
You smiled tightly at him, thanking him. The way you played with your food tugged at his heartstrings. You looked so mournful. He pulled up a chair, sitting backwards on it, gripping the backrest.
"C'mon lovely, don't make me have to feed you myself." He winked. Your lips twitched upwards performatively. Sanji frowned. "Look (name) about last night-"
"I'm sorry."
Confusion. "What?"
You cringed inward. "I'm....I'm sorry I ruined everyone's night."
"You didn't ruin anyone's night, that good for nothing prick did. Don't understand why you'd even go for a guy like that to be honest." He added bitterly. You frowned.
"I wouldn't normally. Everything moved so fast. He seemed nice...It was too late before I realised it's because he wanted Nami." Silence. "Once Nami left, I, well, I didn't want to cause a scene."
"So, what? You were just going to let him take advantage of you?"
You jolted, shocked. "No! No, I- there was no way he was going to-”
“(Name), love, I know you can be a bit naive but-”
Your voice was small. “He said so himself! He..." you trailed off. "He didn't 'go for ugly girls'. And besides…he was right."
Sanji frowned, angry at the world. How could anyone make you believe that you weren't beautiful? That you didn't deserve some guy trying to take advantage of you? He took a deep breath, steadying his resolve
“There's no such thing as an ugly girl (name), and if there was, I can assure you you're not one of them.”
“Not that.” Sanji took in how you winced, trying to make yourself seem smaller.
What?
Sanji felt the wind knocked out of him.
You're a virgin?" He asked, clearly shocked. You bristled with embarrassment.
"Well...yeah, but I understand how it works! It's not such a big deal, I mean...I've just, I've never had the chance."
"Have you ever...y'know, at all? Not even a handy?" You shook your head. He flushed, you were completely pure.
He felt slightly sick at how his perverted thoughts twisted that. He could be your first, ruin you for all other partners. He could be the one to take your innocence. His cock twitched at the thought. Shame flooded him. You were his friend, his, admittedly, very cute friend. He shouldn't be thinking about you this way. His mind was racing with all the obscene thoughts he'd ever had, the deviant things he dreamed of. He was disgusting. You were too innocent, he'd felt guilty before, but now he felt like he was defiling you just by thinking about you.
You took his silence as pity and pointedly looked away from him, taking a deep breath.
"It's not like I don't want to. I do. But, ugh, it's so silly...no one has ever shown any interest. I'm not exactly a goddess like Nami."
"Darling, I don't believe no one has ever shown interest." He offered a smile. Gods if you only knew how badly he ached for you. How hard you made him. Now wasn't the time for him to blow your friendship over him thinking with his dick. You were being vulnerable.
"I don't need your pity Sanji. It's okay. You don't have to give me the 'everyone's beautiful in their own way' speech. There's more to me than my lack of experience! I'm a good fighter! I have talents, I don't need to be pretty. Just, sometimes, it'd be nice.".
This wouldn't do. He had to try to fix this. He took your small hands in his, trying not to lose his breath at how warm they felt. Swinging them lightly, he stared into your eyes.
“You are a beautiful girl, you deserve way better than some kind of bastard like that. Men are pigs (name), you shouldn't trust any of them."
"I trust you."
Sanji froze. You peaked up at him shyly. He looked conflicted, and that caused you to smile sadly, misinterpreting the look. You withdrew your hands, fiddling with them in your lap. "I didn't mean that you should take one for the team Ji, I just meant that, well, I trust you. I don't think you're a pig."
"You shouldn't trust me." He lowered his voice. You stared at him, clearly taken aback. "I'm just as bad."
"No, you-"
"No. I'm an absolute pig darling. You aren't that dense surely."
You frowned. "Sure you flirt a lot with other girls, but that's just you! It's charming, non-threatening. I don't see you acting like-"
"I flirt with you too!" He tried, clearly exasperated. You smiled.
"Exactly! You make cute comments to me, and call me cute things like darling, but you're just naturally flirty."
Sanji groaned. Your smile slowly faltered. Sanji screwed his eyes shut. "I'm not 'just naturally flirty'...I mean, I am, I suppose, but I'm actually trying to flirt with you. I thought you were just being polite, but are you really that dense?"
"I....you are?"
"Are you kidding me?!"
"But, I'm..." You gestured to yourself. "You're more friendly than flirty to me?"
"You're too innocent, it's not like I could just waltz right up and tell you that I think you're hot, can I?" He bristled.
You felt electricity surge down your spine. Hot? Sanji thought you were hot? Sanji?
Sanji took your silence as disgust. "See! That's exactly why I couldn't tell you."
"You think I'm hot?" He nodded. Your grin spread, hurting your blushing cheeks. Your eyes sparkling. "You think I'M hot?!"
"Yes, okay!" He sounded almost angry.
"Sanji, you're gorgeous! I'm too awkward. Too fat. Too plain. I'm not a model or some kind of beauty. And you're telling me someone as handsome as you, thinks I'm attractive!? And I-"
You stopped, really thinking about what he said. "Innocent? I....well I suppose. I'm not that innocent though."
Sanji's nostrils flared. "Not that innocent? Please love! You prance around in those low-cut tops and shorts in front of everyone, thinking that they ain't gonna go ballistic? You're too trusting of men, thinking that we aren't all beasts inside."
You laughed, still riding the high of his praise. Sanji snarled, banging his fist on the kitchen table. "No! It's true. You think someone doesn't see the way your tits look and salivate? You don't think you would make anyone insane? You don't think I got so fucking hard when you told me you're a virgin?"
He froze, blood turning to ice, clearly regretting blurting out that last bit. You stared at him, eyes round with wonder. He avoided your gaze, cringing at what you said next.
"I...I make you hard?".
"I'm sorry (name), that was very ungentlemanly of me. I didn't mean to say that last part."
"But you did." He felt warm hands prying his open and playing with his fingers. He flitted his eyes up to see your face red, staring at him with your eyes practically sparkling with mirth. "God, I've wanted you to fuck me for ages, and now you're telling me you've actually wanted to this whole time?"
Sanji stiffened, cock twitching. He ached painfully. He felt parched, throat burning. This had to be a joke. "You...what?"
"Yeah. Fuck. I, mean, the clothing was purposeful at first, I wanted you to notice me. I had no idea it was working though, haha!"
"WHAT!?"
"Yeah, I thought you knew? You never noticed I only wore those kinds of clothes when you were around? You never noticed how I tried to cling to you in the kitchen? I just assumed you knew and thought I was gross, so I pulled back." You laughed. "Did you seriously think that because I'm a virgin I can't think sexually?"
"But you've never-"
"You've never said anything raunchy to me like you do to other girls. I thought you saw me as a little sister. It'd be weird if someone you saw like family told you they want to suck your dick."
"Fuck." He hissed.
"Oh this is too good! Have I been torturing you?" You laughed, running a hand up his arm. "You must be so frustrated."
"You have no idea."
"I could help you."
Sanji groaned. "You can't say things like that."
"Oh." You pulled back, back to being timid. Even if it was at his expense, Sanji felt the loss of your confident persona. Fuck he really was a masochist, wasn't he? "I, um, I'd need you to guide me. But if you did want help, I'd like to be the one."
"God, you have no idea what you're doing to me." He heard you giggle lightly. He opened his eyes to see you biting your lip, staring up at him through thick lashes, a blush adorning your chubby cheeks. He throbbed.
"You could show me? I promise I'll be gentle! Please Sanji? Can I pretty please touch your dick?"
Sanji felt like he was going to explode from how cute you were.
"Fuck. Please."
You squealed in excitement, jumping up from the table, both his arms in hand. He wanted to laugh at how innocent you looked, but instead he felt a lump in his throat. You didn't notice, pulling the seated man into an awkward, crushing hug.
"C'mon! C'mon what are you waiting for? Let's go!"
"Go where?" He laughed at your eagerness. "In case you haven't noticed darling, we aren't exactly alone."
The way you deflated was comical. What wasn't was the wicked glint that formed in your eyes. Sanji gulped, that was never a good sign. He watched as you quickly dashed out of the kitchen. Sanji looked around, confused. Minutes passed. He got up from the table, moving over to the kitchen island, hiding his lower half behind the counter, lest one of the crew wandered in. He sighed, willing his boner away.
Bang!
The door flew open. Sanji jumped. There you stood frantically in the doorway. Your hair a mess, breathing heavy, and that wicked glint set on him. He watched as you closed the kitchen door, taking a chair and boarding the door. You grinned, stalking towards him.
No. There's no way.
"We aren't going to be disturbed." You were practically vibrating in excitement.
"What? No. Not in the kitchen. We. Eat. Here." Sanji hissed. You peeked up at him, lip pouting.
"Please? I'll make sure there's no mess left." You pleaded.
No mess? Sanji closed his eyes and groaned when he realised what you meant. You were going to be the death of him. When he opened his eyes you were in front of him, staring at him shyly. He startled.
"Can I kiss you? Or is that too far?"
Too far? He wanted to cry. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. He bent down. You grinned. He wrapped an arm around the back of your head, pulling you closer. You tipped your head up. He smiled softly before placing his lips on top of yours.
Your lips locked together like the last piece of a puzzle. You sighed, eyes flitting closed. You pushed further against him, trying desperately to pull him closer. He tasted like cigarettes but you didn't mind, an addictive taste for an addictive man. You wanted more of him. You kissed him feverishly, reluctantly pulling back for air. You stared at the taller man through lidded eyes. He gazed down at you lovingly, a blush high on his cheeks. His blue eyes studied your face closely.
Sanji laughed as with both hands you pulled his face back for another kiss. His skin was hot, your hands now cold against his cheeks. You tasted sweet and he wanted to devour you so badly. You were too cute. He felt you pull him closer to you. You were kissing and sucking at his lips before you felt it. Sanji bit back a groan, feeling your hips brush against him. He felt pure embarrassment as he heard your breath hitch, pulling away. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a groan as you experimentally pushed your hips against him harder.
"Oh my gods." He heard you whisper against him. He froze. "Oh my gods it's so-"
"We can stop if it's too much dar-LING!"
He squeaked as he felt both your hands rake down his chest, you humming contently as you kept yourself pressed against him. He felt overwhelmed at how eager you were. He'd never had someone so upfront in wanting to touch him. His cocked throbbed. You mewled lightly, causing another throb.
"Oh my god it moves?" You giggled. He cracked a smile back. You were so innocent.
Sanji had made one crucial mistake though. That was thinking that just because you were inexperienced, that meant you would be submissive. He felt you cage him against the countertop, the wood digging into his ass, your hands on him. It wasn't that he didn't like it, the dissonance was making him dizzy. He felt your hands find purchase on his waist. You breathed out a dreamy sigh.
"God your waist is so fucking tiny."
Sanji bristled with embarrassment. He tried to address it without upsetting you. "Love, that's not exactly what I want to hear."
You giggled. "I can't help it, it's so hot. You could kick my ass if you wanted, but holy fuck you're just letting me feel you up. Gods I've seen you fight, I've seen how thick your legs are, but fuck your waist is so little."
Sanji hissed. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Your hands migrated upwards, resting on his pecs. Your slow pace was driving him insane.
"Can I?" You gestured to his shirt.
"Fuck, love, I'd love to, but maybe when we have somewhere more private okay? Don't want to be too unclothed if someone tries to come in. Same with you okay? Don't want anyone to see something so gorgeous." He smiled at you. You nodded your head, practically buzzing at the idea of this happening again. He winked at you. "You could take off something else though."
Sanji was shocked and delighted at how quickly you dropped to your knees. You began playing with his belt, figuring out how the clasp worked. Sanji scrunched his eyes shut. Fuck, you were so eager! He never would’ve expected it to go like this. Despite your eagerness you were so gentle, as if you were afraid of touching him. He was going to prompt you, but instead you softly pulled his zipper down and began drawing the fabric down till it sat mid thigh.
Oh, fuck. There he was, huh?
You looked at his clothed cock, studying It like it was some kind of strange bug. You wanted to laugh at the comparison. Above you Sanji was flushed, embarrassed by your staring. You ran a finger over the bulge. He hissed, his dick jumping lightly. You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat.
"What?"
"It's so cute the way it jumps."
"Maybe this was a mistake."
"No no no! I promise I'll be good. Can I, um... do I?"
"Just...hah...do what you think is right. I'll...correct you."
Sanji let out an undignified squeak as he felt you lightly grab the clothed bulge. You massaged it, feeling what you could, watching with curiosity how the man above you writhed. Exploratively, you moved your hand further back, cupping his balls through the fabric. The friction of the fabric against bare skin was pure torture.
"Oh shit!" Sanji whined. You withdraw your hand like it burnt. "That's, god, that's really sensitive okay? You're killing me sweetheart."
"Sorry." You mumbled, placing a kiss to his bare thigh. The "strange bug" jumped again. You began peppering more kisses to his thigh. Once you reached the inside of his thigh you breathed deeply, he smelt musky, it made your mouth water. Experimentally, you licked the inside of his thigh. Sanji's thigh tensed. You licked upwards in long stripes until you reached the leg of his underwear. You gave a quick moment of hesitation before you blew air over the bulge. Sanji hissed. Smiling, you placed a kiss directly over the top of his bulge.
"Did you just kiss my dick?"
"Mmhmm. Watch, I'll do it again." You placed an open mouth wet kiss over Sanji's clothed cock. The man above you threw his head back, whining softly. The fabric was dampened with a mix of your spit and something else. You saw how taut the fabric had become. You cooed. "That looks like it hurts."
Sanji nodded. You looked up at him.
"Can I take them off?"
He shuddered. "Fuck. Please (name)."
With curiosity you began dragging the wet underwear down his hips, settling them at his mid thigh. His musky scent overpowered you, and you watched with fascination as Sanji's cock slapped against his stomach. Looking up at him you saw how tight his eyes were scrunched, knuckles gripping the countertop. You noticed how he shivered lightly at the exposure. Sanji's cock stood, large, imposing, and leaking. You breathed out a curse. It looked gorgeous, just like him, long and lithe. His happy trail led to a neat little patch of dark hair. You salivated. Eyes drawing to your prize, you winced at how red and angry the head looked.
Sanji thought he was going to kill you when he felt you tap his cockhead like a microphone. Instead he bucked his hips away, humiliation colouring his face. "Stop that! I know you don't know what you're doing, but please use your brain dearest."
You mumbled an apology before rubbing your hands together, trying to warm them. He watched as you wrapped a hand around his dick before moaning lowly. You studied him, absolutely enraptured, as you gave a test pump. The man above you crumbled.
"Do you always get this way?"
"No." He panted.
"Just for me?" You tried sultry, trying to muster up some quote from a smutty novel you once read. Sanji peeked one eye open before groaning.
"No." His voice was strained, breathing heavy. You tried pumping him, but the rhythm was sloppy. "N-no. You're...it's a lot right now. I'm not used to it being this slow…or clumsy."
"Do you like it?" You looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Unfortunately." He muttered. With a burst of pride you tried pumping him harder. Sanji squealed, grabbing your hand. "Fuck (name), I really need you to spit in your hand. Th-that's painful."
"Oh...sorry." You offered. Sanji watched as you perversely spit in your hand, wrapping the digits back around his cock. You tried setting a rhythm, it was sloppy, but you focused on giving him consistent squeezing pressure. Sanji moaned lowly at the squeezing, hips rocking.
Soon you reached a steady rhythm. You watched with bated breath before you slowed down. Sanji began to whine from the loss, only to keen loudly as he felt your lips enclose his cockhead. He began spluttering, eyes rolled backwards. He'd take anything right now, fuck he wanted to cum so bad. He sucked in a breath.
"No teeth, okay love?"
You laughed, the vibrations tickling him in the best way. He moaned, trying desperately to not fuck your face. His eyes were so tightly scrunched.
You slowly forced yourself further down his length, squeezing the base. Sanji swore. You froze, taking a deep breath through your nose. When he didn't stop you, you continued your devotion.
"Ack!" You choked, throat burning. You felt Sanji's hand patting your head. You retreated off him, coughing.
"Darling don't take more than you can okay. We don't want you to choke now."
You gazed up at him, eyes wet and throat hoarse. "Let me try again!"
Your raspy voice made Sanji quiver, but the way you looked up at him, absolutely wrecked, made him burn. As quickly as he noticed it, it ended, and you unceremoniously inhaled his cock. He could feel you try to smile.
"Fuck!" His voice was high as you sucked hard, adding your tongue to flatten against the underside of his cock. "(Name)! Baby, fuck, I-"
"Hey why won't the door open?" Zoro's voice rang through the wood. Sanji stilled, holding your head. The two of you looked at each other frozen. Sanji tried clearing his throat.
"If you keep making noise out there, I'm gonna explode, Mosshead!"
You snorted, trying hard to not laugh. 'Yeah you're gonna explode,' you inwardly snickered.
"Whatever shitty waiter."
Silence. Sanji looked down at you. "Darling, maybe we should stop. It's okay, we can try again another day." He froze at the frustrated look that overtook your features. "Fuck." He whispered.
You sucked harshly causing Sanji to bite his hand hard to avoid screaming. He felt you try swallowing, watched as tears pricked your eyes. You didn't slow down on your work, sucking harshly and hands wandering. You grabbed a fistful of his asscheek, other hand tracing circles on his inner thigh. You felt him tensing, quivering. His hand reached for your neck, trying to coax you off. He was so close.
"Oh god!" Sanji gasped. "Baby I'm gonna cum, you need to hop off-AH!"
You sucked harder, milking the man through his orgasm. It was like music the way he spluttered and grabbed the back of your head, nails scratching your scalp. You felt hot, thick liquid painting your throat. It wasn't pleasant, but fuck his reactions were. Some dribbled out of the corner of your mouth and Sanji wiped it away with a thumb, a fucked out expression on his features. He pulled his softened cock out of your mouth, and watched, breathless as you swallowed his seed. You made a grimace afterwards causing the man to laugh.
"Was it okay?" You asked, shyness taking over you.
"You're lucky I don't mind a bit of torture. It was good for a first try." He gave you that flirty grin and a wink. "I think you need more practice though."
You laughed, outstretching a hand so he could help you up. You tried stretching your legs, noting the numb pain in your knees. You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Was I that bad?"
Sanji pulled his underwear and pants back up, zipping his pants closed. He pulled you closer. "Nah, you're just something else entirely. Silly." Kiss. "Torturous." Kiss. "And I am smitten with you."
"We've wasted enough time, better get back to it." You smiled against his lips.
"I'd love to pay you back."
"Later loverboy, we're gonna have the whole crew in here soon if we don't hurry."
"I'm so glad there's a later."
You winked, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. You stopped, turning to stare at the man.
"For you baby? Always. Oh, can you make souffle?"
"What? Why?"
"I told the guys we were making a souffle and needed the kitchen completely silent."
Sanji laughed. You definitely kept him on his toes.
-----------
I'm not going to lie, some of this is coloured by my first time hahaha! I am an incredibly awkward person, and yes I did also once tell a guy how cute I thought it was when dicks jump. He also told me I was fucked for that ha!
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉
Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).
Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.
Part 2: You Move Me, Baby
This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on.
It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.
But through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards.
For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us.
And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels.
Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.
In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. But you felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass.
Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick.
Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”
You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail.
May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered.
“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down.
Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”
You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back.
“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette.
“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”
“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.
The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering.
“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.
Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her.
Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.
“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.
That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.
However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.
Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.
But Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.
You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.
Then the curtain slid open.
Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!
The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. But they soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.
Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy.
You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.
“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.
“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand.
“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger.
Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.
“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”
You took in an unsteady breath. But with each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident.
“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”
As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission.
You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.
But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while.
There. You finally saw it.
Or rather, you saw him.
Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest.
He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby.
Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude.
You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.
And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.
Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.
So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.
“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?”
You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away.
Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…
You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.
Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.
“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.
You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin.
He was watching you.
Good.
“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”
As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd.
You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target.
Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team.
“He’s here.”
Annie was no longer backstage.
“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm.
“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.
You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room.
You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard.
“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine.
You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much.
“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.
“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”
He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk. But you spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept.
Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular.
You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”
This wasn’t the plan, exactly. But you decided it was even better. Just infinitely more dangerous.
Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.
“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm.
You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”
“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”
You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.
But Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you.
You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking.
It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.
You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room.
Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you.
Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand.
Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides.
Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips.
Show time, you told yourself.
“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.
“What makes you say that?” you asked.
He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger.
“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.
You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table.
You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.
You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment.
And distracted, for as long as he let you.
You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early.
You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...
"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"
Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.
You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage.
“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.
Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down.
“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.
“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow.
“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. But your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh.
It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk.
You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger.
There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.
“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze.
“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”
A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin.
“Depends,” you said coyly.
Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him.
“On?”
You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive motherfucker, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish.
A smile played at your lips.
“On what excites you,” you replied.
By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer.
Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap.
You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one.
He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile.
“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed.
Yes, if you were honest with yourself.
There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance.
“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”
He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin.
He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?
You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair.
Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back.
But before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.
His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.
This is getting out of hand…
He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks.
You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…
But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath.
With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk.
But you gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin.
“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said.
Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?
And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…
Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?
And you realized, he knew exactly who you were.
Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust.
“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.
But then you smirked. “You can fuck this.”
You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant.
Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.
And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you.
You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now.
He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun.
“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”
“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”
Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell.
“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.
“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.”
Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient.
“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”
“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.”
Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?”
You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer.
“All right,” he shrugged.
Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand.
Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.
You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy.
You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up.
You knew what came next.
And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns.
Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.
You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin.
Damn it!
You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. But mostly at yourself.
After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.
Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard.
In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup.
Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed.
You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump.
Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. But before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist.
You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again.
While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.
But you didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop.
“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. But you searched for your gun in the wreckage.
While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.
You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.
You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.
And it was lights out.
You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car.
You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume.
You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were.
The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house.
…Well, this fucking sucks.
The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you.
Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie.
You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.
“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.
“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.
But then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.
But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you.
What the fuck.
But then you noticed him.
Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭
And are you ready for what's coming next?
To keep reading: Part 3
Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged in this series! And follow me for more Boys fics (and other fandoms). I'm also on Ao3!
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A PROFESSIONAL INTERVIEW -- sebastian vettel
part 4/5, previous l l next (coming soon!)
pairings! redbull!sebastian vettel x fem!journalist!reader
In which, Sebastian Vettel has always been a cocky, and an annoying f1 driver to interview, but suddenly his tendencies seem more flirtatious than annoying.
note: hopefully this isn't too bad, trying to do character developement! i really enjoyed writing this chapter, even if it was a bit rushed!
taglist! @viennakarma, @chiliwhore, @i-wish-this-was-me, @gcldtom, @sugyomama, @bladestark, @queenofmanydreams, @bb-swift, @leclerking, @fanboyluvr, @killjoynotes
You let out a loud scream the second you woke up and took in your surroundings.
You had a good night's sleep, opening your eyes, surprised by the lack of a hangover. An arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in the man's chest. He was warm, perhaps a Mongasque from the club. You turned around, and could not contain your scream of horror, surely waking up all surrounding people in the hotel.
What the hell was Sebastian Vettel doing in your bed
And what the hell was he doing naked!
He covered his ears with his hand, and rolled over, once you finally came to clarity and covered your mouth with your hand. Seb turned back over, about to say something before noticing you sitting up against the wall, tits out, and Seb's face dropping in shock. Seb exclaimed something in German that you could only assume was an obscenity as you tumbled out of the bed, fully naked and filled with anger. You pulled on your underwear first, suddenly mad that it was a thong, but you were trying not to panic.
“You better be turned around!” You exclaimed over your shoulder, pulling on your bra. Seb turned back, his face pressed against the pillow.
“I obviously saw you naked last night!” He called out. He looked out of the corner of his eyes as you rummaged through the drawer, trying to find something that could fit you and wouldn’t exactly look like it belonged to Seb. “Can I look back now?” “Whatever, you’re right, it doesn’t matter.” You said, you held up a pair of grey sweatpants. “I’m going to take them.” “Those are my favorite sweatpants.” Seb said.
“I don’t care!” You said, pulling them up, and cinching the waist in.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Seb asked, he seemed slightly frustrated at you. You had assumed his flirting would result in nothing, that was not nothing. Sure, you imagined he didn’t want it to end like a drunk hook up. A few memories returned to you, his confession, your instigation. You had instigated it, why had you instigated it?
“Maybe if you had your pants on.” You said, tossing a pair of plaid boxers to Seb, he pulled them on, throwing off his sheets and walking closer to you. You moved out of the way, still searching for a top, not planning on leaving in a push up bra. Seb pulled on another pair of sweats. You picked up a hoodie off the floor, it was a plain gray color, matching the sweats, you pulled it on.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You asked, not wanting to talk about it at all.
“You know, we hooked up.” “Yeah.” “What are we gonna do about it?” “I’m on the pill.” “But what about how we interact, does this change anything, should it change anything?” Seb said, leaning on the counter. “It doesn’t have to change anything. We were crazy drunk. There’s an explanation.” You said, looking over at the door, considering making a run for it, quitting your job, and moving in with your parents, or Y/B/F, if you could pay enough rent she’d let you stay.
“I meant what I said, I remember that, at least.” Seb told you, making eye contact with you. You squirmed away from his gaze. “I would like to be more than just-”
“Seb, I can’t do this right now.” You interrupted him, holding up your hand as if to push him away with some sort of telepathic ability. “I’m going to chase Jenson down, get my key, and I’ll see you in Silverstone.” You smiled awkwardly, trying to give him some sort of sense of peace from your words. Seb frowned, giving you a response you didn't expect.
“You’re skipping three races?” “Yeah.” “I won’t see you for a month.” “I always go on breaks during the season. Usually around this time because it makes me feel like I just have some massive summer break. They don’t need me, so I’m not going.” You said with a shrug. Seb mumbled something you couldn’t hear. He looked down at the ground as you said your goodbyes, you felt bad. You wanted to give him a hug, wish him luck on the championship, have a nice time with him in Monaco, but no, you left.
You weren’t quite sure what you did at your parents house. You spent a lot of time thinking too much about your decisions, acknowledged the fact that you had little to no life outside of formula one, and had a good time with your family. You felt somewhat numb, just mulling over your thoughts and rejecting guys in the grocery store. You didn’t even know why you rejected them. You supposed that covered your break.
But now it was time to get back to formula one, and face your suppressed thoughts and actions from the country of luxury, Monaco. You had attempted to keep Seb out of your mind, but he managed to sneak in during late nights and cold mornings. You wish you remembered everything from that night, but you didn’t, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You could hook up with him again, your brain offered, and you let out an annoyed groan, slamming your hands over your face. The mother daughter pair next to you gave you a side eye, but you didn’t care. You pulled on an eye mask, just wanting to sleep.
You woke up in London, the plane landing with a slight jolt. You checked how you looked in a pocket mirror, mascara smeared, bronzer splotchy. You wiped it all off in the airport bathroom, before going out to collect your luggage. You were thankful for the bright colors as you made your way to the parking garage, planning on taking a taxi that usually crowded the garage for people without cars.
“Y/N, over here!” Shouted a voice, you turned around, brows furrowed as Lewis Hamilton waved over to you, jogging over.
“Do you know the work I had to do to get here?” He said, sighing slightly. “To find out about when your flight was landing.”
You hugged him briefly. “You could’ve texted me.”
“You didn’t text back.”
“Did you text me when I was in the air?”
“Probably.” Lewis replied with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m here to take you to the hotel. Figured I’d show up all your other driver servants.”
“You didn’t have to.” You told Lewis, smiling as he rolled your suitcase to the garage, you in tow.
“I kind of did, and you still have to drive.”
“Oh no, I have to drive a beautiful car, whatever will I do.” You said, you pressed your hands over your face to resemble comedic fear.
“Don’t break any traffic rules.” Lewis told you, chucking your suitcase in the back with no mind for fragilities. “Also, we need to talk.”
You pulled out of the garage. It was a luxury one, and so easy to exit and make your way into the highway, unlike most airport garages.
“What do we need to talk about?” You asked. “Your terrible haircut.”
You didn’t think baldmilton was a look, but Lewis looked serious. “I know about you and Seb in Monaco.”
You froze, turning toward him slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh my god, it's true! I mean the photo looked incriminating, and then the other one of the two of you the day after.” Lewis said slowly, in shock. He examined your expression, certain it reflected your thoughts clearly. “Holy shut, you hooked up with Seb!”
“What photo?” You asked. “Lewis, was there a photo of me going into his hotel room?”
“You didn’t know about it?” Lewis asked. “Have you been under a rock these past weeks?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed. “Where is Seb staying? We’re going there.”
You pounded against the door of Seb’s airbnb, shouting into the wood for Seb to open the door. Lewis placed one hand high on the doorway, ready for Seb to open the door.
“I’m coming, Ficken!” Seb shouts, you heard him jogging to the door, and tried to decide what expression to put on your face. Seb swung open the door, seeing Lewis before you. “Hey, Lewis.”
“Good afternoon.” Lewis said with a smile.
“Hey, Seb,” You said, interrupting their friendship. He looked over at you, a smile appearing on his face before he switched it to a “cool guy” look. “Um, we need to talk.” “You were serious when you said you’d tak in the UK?” Seb asked, placing his hands on his waist.
“Yeah, I was, but we also need to talk about the photo.” You said, pursing your lips together. Seb nodded, gesturing for the two of you to come inside.
“Are you sure you guys want me here?” Lewis asked, crossing his arms. “Yes.” You and Seb replied at the same time. You sat down on the small kitchen table, Seb taking the seat across from you, and Lewis taking the comfortable loveseat in the corner.
“So, what about it do you want to discuss? We can’t take it down, everyone’s seen it, and we did exactly what they’re saying.” Seb told you.
“Well I don’t want to get fired.” You said, you hated that Seb was right. You couldn’t do anything to make it better. “You aren’t going to get fired.” Lewis reassured you.
“You really aren’t, I checked with your boss.” Seb added on.
“Seb! You told my boss we hooked up!” You exclaimed, wanting to slam your head against the table.
“No, I didn’t! I told her you slept in the guest bedroom.” Seb shouted in defense. You let out a sigh of relief.
“So now you just deny deny deny to the other journalists.” You said, and Seb nodded.
“Or we could just say we’re dating.” Seb offered, and you frowned.
“I don’t want to lie about things like that, Seb.” You admitted. Call yourself a romantic, but you only had a few relationships, and you didn’t want to lie about one, especially not when feelings were starting to sneak in for the person who offered it.
“Okay,” Seb replied. The three of you sat in silence for a bit, before Lewis finally spoke,
“Y/N, what interviews are you doing this week?”
“Mark, Seb you got left out, Alonso, and your best friend, Nico!” You told Lewis, counting off the names on your hands. “Also Micheal, which I’m super excited for.” “Have you met Nico and Micheal before?” Seb asked, playing with a napkin on the table between his fingers. You felt the sudden urge to take his hands in yours, but suppressed it.
“Yeah, I’ve interviewed them both a few times, and last year Nico and I sat next to each other on a flight from Japan to Monaco because first class had no seats.” “I feel like you and Nico would get along.” Seb commented, you raised an eyebrow. “Why?” You asked. Sure, you and Nico had gotten along fine during the flight, but you weren’t sure what they were talking about and Seb appeared to ont want to explain it to you, but Lewis jumped in.
“You two are drama queens, and I’m allowed to say this because Nico is my best friend and I think you and I are close enough for me to say that.” “I’m not dramatic!”
“You screamed when you realized we had hooked up, actually screamed.” “You don’t need to remember that, and Lewis doesn’t need to know it.” You told Seb. You picked up your bag, and turned to Lewis. “I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bid him a small smile, waving to Seb, and grabbing your bag as Lewis trailed behind you.
Silverstone would turn out to be boring, Mark won, and the Mercedes boys were nice. You would be kind to Seb in Germany, as it was his home race, and in Hungary you would frown, and try to avoid attention. You suppose you would have had a better time if it hadn’t been for the lasting effects of the stupid photo. You hadn’t been fired, which you were endlessly grateful for, but the gripes and comments were enough to ruin whole weekends. Your dear friend Y/B/F obviously noticed this over calls, and so all the sudden you were invited to a villa in Ibiza.
How she made this happen? You had no idea. How the two of you didn’t have to pay a cent? Again, a wonder. She made magic happen, and you loved it. You were glad you didn’t have any summer plans, and had packed various bikinis and adorable summer outfits in case some sort of miracle happened.
Now you were landing in Ibiza, ready to party it up, swim in the ocean, and get drunk off your mind. In any order.
Seb didn’t know why he had decided on Ibiza. Peer pressure, maybe? Jenson was, Lewis was, Nico was, even Fernando and Mark were going. Seb had spent the first four days on the beach. Despite his young rouge persona he had cultivated, he wasn’t the biggest fan of parties and the whole playboy life every other formula one driver had. Seb could flirt around, it was almost like his second job, but at the end of the day he wanted a girl to go home with. He lay in his bed in the dead of night, the sound of waves crashing against rocks rushing through his window, and the sound of Lewis and some model fucking sneaking through the walls. Seb pressed his hands to his ears, and sat up.
A run, he should go for a run. Seb walked over to his drawers, pulling on sweat shorts and a black crewneck. He grabbed his phone, and headed downstairs. Certainly he couldn’t wake anyone more than the driver sleeping in the room on the far right. His phone rang loudly and suddenly. Seb rushed outside, that could have woken somebody asleep on the bottom level.
“Who is it?” Seb asked, not prepared at all for the next conversation. “Seb!” A voice gleefully called through the phone. “You picked up!” “Y/N?” Seb asked, in genuine confusion, what were you doing calling him at one in the morning.
“Yeah, it’s me, so I know you’re in Ibiza.” You told Seb, lowering your voice to a whisper.
“I am, are you?” Seb asked, confused. “Why are you calling me at one in the morning?”
“Why are you up this early in the morning? Okay, so these people my friend and I are staying with say I need to get a ride home because I can't handle my alcohol or something.” You complained, slurring your words. You couldn’t handle your alcohol. “I don’t know, so I called you. Is there any chance you can pick me up?” Dead silence over the line.
“Yeah, I can.” He told you, going inside and grabbing the keys to the rental car. Fate must really have wanted him and Y/N to get together, or his delusions. “What bar are you at?” “You’re an actual savior, Seb.” You said, sounding genuinely grateful as you told him the name of the bar. “Okay, I’ll be sitting on a chair against the wall when you get here.”
You hung up before Seb could offer to stay on call. He thought he was supposed to be the blunt one. He drove easily through Ibiza, enjoying the convertible porsche. It was hot in Ibiza, but slightly colder in the night, and the warm wind made it much more enjoyable. The club he arrived at was massive, and when he bypassed the bouncer – pulling the driver card, he found that it was even bigger inside. Neon lights blasting from the dj booth, and fake plants covering the walls.
A chair against the wall, Seb wondered, this place is massive, and is there even a chair in here?“Yo! Yo!” Someone called out. Seb looked up, furrowing his brows as a girl pushed past people to get to him. “Yeah, you! Blondie!” “Blondie?” Seb asked, pointing at himself. She nodded, stumbling over and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, you’re Sebastian Vettel right?” She asked,
“Listen, I’m looking for someone, it’s kind of late, I don’t really want to sign anything right now.” Seb told her, looking around the massive room for any sign of a fucking chair.
“Ugh, you are a jerk.” She said, an image of disgust on her face. “I’m the girl you’re looking for’s best friend! Yeah, Y/N, do you know her?”
“Y/N said I was a jerk?” Seb asked, of course this girl was your best friend, and he managed to seem like a total asshole.
“Yeah, anyway follow me.” Y/B/F said, grabbing Seb’s shoulder and dragging him through a massive crowd. You were not in fact sitting on a chair, but a bucket, and essentially jumped into Y/B/F’s arms the second you noticed her.
“Hey babe.” Y/B/F said, handing you over to Seb with slight ease. She whispered into his ear, “She’s on eight drinks Y/N, so about to be possibly sick, and have many epiphanies.” Seb placed his hands on your shoulders as you first noticed him.
“Oh! Seb, this is my best friend in the whole world.” You said, smiling at Y/B/F. “And also the person who ruined Ibiza.” “You wouldn’t have Ibiza without me.” Y/B/F said, sliding a massive tote bag over to Seb. “Also, I hope you can crash on his couch because . . . ,”
With the smile the two of you exchanged, Seb assumed Y/B/F was going to be doing the same activity as Lewis was occupying himself with that very night. “Okay know get the fuck out of here before you throw up or pass out on top of somebody.” Y/B/F said playfully. “Love you!!” “Love you too!” You called back, latching onto Seb’s arm and immediately putting your entire body weight on him. “Thank you so much, Seb.” “Yeah, anytime.” Seb said, pretty sure he actually meant it. He pushed open the door, taking in a breath of actual fresh air.
“Let me guess, the porsche-uh.” You said, slurring your words heavily. Seb nodded, opening the convertible door for you and dropping you in the seat as he took his place at the driver's seat. You wore a tube top and a sarong, the sunburn around the halter bikini top and bottoms indicating a day spent at the beach.
“Did you have an eventful day?” Seb asked, you nodded, leaning across the central console to press your cheek against his shoulder. “Yeah, but I think I should quit clubbing.” You told him honestly. “I always do stupid things.”
“Mhm, like hook up with me.” Seb commented. He could feel your frown through his shirt.
“I think if I hadn’t been drunk it wouldn’t have been too much of a mistake.” You told him. “I would’ve been sneakier.”
“Sneakier?” Seb asked, smiling despite himself. He had to remember, you weren’t you after eight drinks of whatever alcohol you had consumed that night. Most likely some Spanish drink the bartender made up to scam tourists. You suddenly sat up straight, hand covering your mouth.
“Pull over.” You said, dead seriousness.
“What?”
“Pull over right now!” You shouted, clutching the door of the convertible. He swerved to the edge of the road. You essentially fell out of the car, he jumped out, rushing over to you and managing to pull your hair out of your face just in time as you threw up, not once, not twice, but three times on the concrete sidewalk. “Ugh, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Seb said, lifting you up slightly and seating you on the passenger's seat once more. “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, less drunk I think.” You said, grabbing the massive tote bag Y/B/F had handed Seb. “Luckily I actually packed everything I’d need in case every terrible thing occurred tonight.”
You then pulled out a toothbrush and a toothpaste stored in a small plastic bag, and efficiently began brushing your teeth. Seb glimpsed the driver’s villa in the distance, and turned over to you.
“You’re okay with sleeping on the couch, right?”
“I’m fine as long as I can sleep.” You said, spitting the toothpaste out over the side, and collapsing back in the seat. You were slurring your words less now, but it was still there. “I’m just so fucking tired.”
“You’ll be able to go to sleep in a second, don’t worry.” Seb said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as well. Exhaustion was supposed to be contagious, wasn’t it? Who knew, it seemed like whatever you felt affected Seb.
“Okay.” You said, clutching your bag like a pillow. He pulled to a stop in the driveway, helping you out of the car, essentially being half-carried the entire way through the door.
The massive windows facing the beach illuminated the living and kitchen, exposing a sight Seb wasn’t sure he was ready to see. Lewis and his hookup nude filling up two separate bowls of cereal.
“Hey Seb.” Lewis said with a nod. His face changed expressions instantly to surprise and slightly happy when he noticed who you were with. “Look who you found!”
“Hey, Lewis.” Seb said, resisting the urge to cover your eyes.
“Hey.” You said with a smile. You turned to the model next to him, and smiled at her. The woman smiled back. “You have very nice boobs.”
“Thank you.” She replied with a wide smile. “You have nice ones too!”
You smiled, and the model girl waved you a farewell as she and Lewis returned, Lewis holding two bowls of cereal. They covered his nipples at least.
“Are they going to eat cereal while having sex?” You asked, mouth slightly agape.
“You can go and ask if you want.” Seb offered.
“I’m good.” You said, laying down on the couch, and rummaging through your massive tote bag.
“Do you want me to grab you blankets?” Seb asked.
“Duh.” You replied, pulling out a pair of black shorts from your bag. Seb turned around and essentially sprinted up the stairs to grab a handful of blankets from the closet. When he came back. You had changed into a gray baby tee, and black cotton shorts, face squished into a pillow. Seb smiled at the image of you asleep, memories brought back to the days he had been an absolute asshole, and you hated him. Developement? He placed the two blankets on your resting form, slightly surprised at how quickly you had managed to change and fall asleep.
“Good night.” Seb whispered.
“Are you leaving?” You mumbled.
“What?” Seb asked, slightly frozen above you. “Why aren’t you staying?” You asked, grabbing his hand tightly and pulling him closer. “You want me to sleep on the couch with you?” “Mhm, you’re warm. Like a human heater.” You mumbled, wrapping your arm around his forearm. Seb frowned slightly, not quite sure what the right move would be, choosing to sit down on the edge of the couch. He leaned his back against the pillow. You adjusted your sleeping position, resting your head on Seb’s chest and wrapping your arms around his waist in a way that made Seb nervous to move too much. “My not so sweet human heater.”
You woke up later in the night, maybe four or five am. Slightly hungover, and intending on closing your eyes once more as you looked up at Seb. His eyes were fixated on the wide windows overlooking the beautiful ocean. You wished you could know what he was thinking behind those baby blues.
next (coming soon)
i want to sit on his lap and examine his face.
Cardan and Juliette collaborating tho💀
Summary: The reader helps a drunken Osferth to bed.
Notes: From number two on this prompt list. Contains drunk Osferth, Finan being Finan, Sihtric being a good bro, and some kisses. Fluff! Gender neutral and entirely undescribed reader. Unbeta'd and unedited. oop
Read on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider giving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.
Uhtred’s men had, once again, spent an evening drinking in celebration. And you, one not as fond of ale as the three men, had found them singing in the street. If one could call it that. Their singing resembled far more the shouting and long drawn out cries of startled cows at pasture.
“You best shut your jaws before the alehouse bans you from the place altogether,” you remark, arms crossed as you regard them stumbling through the mud of the street. “Your singing is worse than the innkeeper’s wife.”
Finan laughs heartily, stumbling with Osferth as Sihtric smiles at you, steadying the young monk between them.
“And what would you know of decent singing, eh?” Finan teases. “Always the critic!”
“I’m sure they have a lovely singing voice,” Osferth pipes up, his ‘g’s exaggerated. As he attempts to take a step forward he practically careens sideways, saved only by Sihtric catching his flailing arm. The Dane seems to be the most sober out of the three.
“I think the three of you have had enough ale tonight,” you try not to laugh at the sight. You nod to Finan, making eye contact with Sihtric. “Go on and help the Irishman, I’ll manage Osferth.”
He nods, steadying Osferth on his feet and going around to the young monk’s other side to start herding Finan to the Irishman’s bed.
“Oi, why does baby monk get your help and I’m stuck with the Dane bastard?” Finan jokes, clapping Sihtric on the back, who playfully wraps an arm around his neck in a mimicry of a grapple.
“Because this baby monk doesn’t weigh twice more than a fat dairy cow,” you dig playfully as you sling Osferth’s arm over your shoulder. “And is far more polite than yourself.” Osferth smiles gratefully, sheepishly, at your words.
Finan laughs easily, and before Sihtric can stop him he reaches over and claps Osferth on the back, sending the two of you stumbling.
“He might be polite enough, friend, but watch him! He’s a sly one when a pretty thing like yourself is about!”
Osferth’s head shoots up, eyebrows high at Finan’s words, but Sihtric shoots you a look and wrangles Finan away at last, the two men laughing at something as they turn a corner.
“Come on, ‘baby monk,’” you say, adjusting his arm around your shoulders and you follow the other two men.
The two of you march and stumble your way through the drying mud of the street, nearing the building your party is staying at.
“Thank you for your help,” Osferth says, catching himself on a porch pole when he stumbles sideways, nearly taking you with him. “It’s easy to get carried away when you’ve got Finan egging you on.”
You grin in amusement. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Osferth,” you say, pulling him back onto the road.
You help him all the way to his bed, going as far as tugging his boots off when he drops onto the cot.
“The room isn’t spinning as badly as I expected,” he says. “You don’ ‘ave t’ do that,” he protests, words slurring a bit, but you’re already taking his second boot into your hands.
“Like you could do it yourself right now,” you scoff. “And I’ll not have you muddy up the bedding for whatever poor soul cleans up after guests leave.”
He slouches slightly, trying to hold his leg out straighter for you to pull the boot easier. “But you’ve got mud on your hands now,” he mumbles.
“Hands that I can wash easily enough,” you say, finally yanking the boot free, and putting it aside with its partner. “Stay here, I’m going to get you some water so you don’t die of too bad a hangover when the sun comes up.”
He doesn’t protest, not that you’d listen if he did, and so you leave the room. You wash your hands in cold water from the well outside, and fill his waterskin you’d liberated from his person, as well as your own, before hurrying back out of the cold.
When you return, Osferth is laid on his back. He is still in his robes and his leather armor over his chest, leather bracers still on his forearms. He’s at least undone the belt of his scabbard, though not fully removed it. You scoff, amused at the sight.
“Jesus, baby monk, can’t even get undressed can you?”
He opens his eyes to look at you from his recline, and you approach and sit on the edge of the cot.
“Come on,” you pat his shin. “Up. At least have some water and take off your sword properly.”
He hauls himself up obligingly with a light groan, legs a warm presence against your thigh as he adjusts and accepts the waterskin.
“Thank you,” he says with a gasp once he releases it from his lips.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you repeat yourself from earlier, nudging him gently.
He grins slowly. “That’s th’ second time you’ve called me pretty tonight,'' he begins to tease good naturedly. “Don’t let Finan hear you say that or he’ll think you mean it.”
“Oh, shush your pious hole,” your face warms and you avoid his all too intense gaze, as lighthearted as his smile is.
There’s a shift in the air, as Osferth keeps watching you, his smile suddenly turning to a slightly openmouthed look of surprise.
“You do,” he says, vocalizing his realization. “You think I’m pre–-”
You act on impulse, shutting him up with the first thing your body finds as a solution before your mind can catch up, pressing a quick firm kiss to his lips. You’ve pulled away before he can process it, and then the two of you are sat there staring at the other with wide, equally shocked eyes.
“I—” you don’t know what it is you’re going to say, how you’re going to play this off, but it hardly matters when his hands embrace your face and suddenly he’s kissing you.
It's a frenzy, all lips and teeth and surprised whimpers and gasps from both parties, the taste of ale and fresh cold water passing from tongue to tongue.
The need for air pulls you apart at last, chests heaving. You aren’t sure when or how it happened, but you find that you are straddling Osferth’s lap, your ankle twisted in the long strip of cloth that makes up the front of his robes. His hands are on your hips, steadying you, and your hands are on his shoulders.
He stares up at you, eyes wide as yours must be, both faces an expression of surprise.
“Uh—”
“So—”
You both start at the same time, and then you burst into a fit of nervous laughter. “Oh, God,” you say, covering your mouth as you try to stop from laughing too loudly. “Finan was right.”
The smile that had been spreading at your giggles turns into a confused frown. “About what?”
“You’re sly,” you chuckle, pushing at his shoulder to show you’re only teasing. “How did I even get on top of you?”
“Dunno,” he grins again, loosening his hold on your hips as you try to untangle your foot from his robes.
You shoot him a stern look as you finally free yourself and stand clumsily. “Are you even drunk?”
His eyebrows shoot open. “Wh– yes–!”
You push at his shoulder again with a broad grin, and he falls back despite it having only been a playful nudge. “Good.” You collect your water skin and straighten your clothes, smiling to yourself.
“You’re not staying?” He asks from the bed, shifting about to lay properly on his side. When you look at him he almost looks disappointed.
“I’m not going to hump you for the first time while you’re drunk, Osferth,” you cock an eyebrow.
Both his eyebrows raise again, and he shifts on the arm that has him propped up on his side.
“And I don’t want to be caught by Finan in the morning,” you admit. “Another time, baby monk.”
His face turns pink when you grin at him, closing the door behind your exit.
Leigh: so Jesper is a Grisha.
fans: screaming crying throwing up 😱😱😱🤯🤯🤯
Leigh: ......what? u guys didn't know? oh well 🤷♀️
Kaz Brekker and Mutual Ma$terba$tion.
If you’re tagged it’s simply because I copied the tag list for Kaz.
(If you’d like to not be tagged in future smutty/spicy Kaz fics, please let me know!)
Description: 3.6k wc, smut/spicy fic with Kaz. Cannon Kaz, still has a touch aversion but finds himself and his girlfriend needing release so they compromise by verbally guiding the other while they be each other’s hands. (Kaz style aftercare featured)
Warnings: sexual content, mentions of touch aversions (anxiety & related notes), 18+ Only, cursing
Kaz crumpled yet another piece of paper and tossed it to the side, still unable to collect his thoughts.
The heist went sideways hours ago and he hadn’t been able to figure out why or how he should’ve been able to prevent it.
It had never taken him this long before, he was usually done within a few minutes and spent the rest of the night sulking.
Meaning it really shouldn’t take him long tonight since it was only a minor deviation and not much of a set back.
He should’ve been able to figure this out hours ago.
However, y/n had never not been in his office after a night like this.
Kaz sensed things were tense between them lately but since he didn’t know why he elected to let it blow over.
As he sat alone in his messy office tonight, he regretted that decision.
Clearly that was another plan he made that failed.
Begrudgingly he rose from his desk, bracing himself on his cane as he walked to the door.
If she wasn’t coming to him, he’d go to her.
Kaz lingered outside her door as his mind raced to find the best way to greet her.
She was already mad, but he didn’t know why and therefore which side of him would be most helpful here.
If he let Kaz Rietveld greet her and she’d been mad about one of his triggers or weaknesses that would make it worse.
Not that y/n ever got upset let alone mad over that, but Kaz anxiously awaited the day he felt was inevitable.
If he let Dirtyhands Brekker greet her and she was mad he’d been too distant or mundane it would surely piss her off more.
He sighed, annoyed at himself for even allowing himself to get so attached to her that he cared about these things.
Kaz tapped his cane against her door twice and awaited a response.
He heard some shuffling around before y/n opened the door for him.
Her hair was a bit disheveled from seemingly running her hands through it, but it was clear she’d tried to fix it before opening the door.
“Love,” he greeted briefly, the versions of himself compromising.
She smiled nervously at him which made him sigh.
“May I?” He asked, tipping the crow’s head end of his cane in the direction of her bedroom chambers.
A room in which she rarely ever was, having usually been sleeping in his room while he worked.
Kaz watched her throat tighten as she swallowed before nodding.
He took inventory of her room, the way he would any room he’d stepped into where he felt unsure of his surroundings.
He’d been in here before but tonight he was unsure where he stood with her and hoped the room would provide him some clues.
Y/n’s bedding was wrinkled and the poorly made bed was evidence she’d futilely tried tucking the sheets back into place before letting him in.
Kaz tightened his grip on the crow’s head, despising himself for whatever he did that prompted her to chose to sleep here instead.
Sure it was her room, but he couldn’t recall the last time she’d actually slept in it.
“Kaz…” she mumbled, standing a solid distance away, “you look like you have something on your mind”.
Kaz pressed his lips into a tight line as he turned to face her, but was unable to look into her eyes and ask his question, “are you mad at me?”.
Her silence caused him to turn his gaze upwards from the floor and to her face.
He watched the shocked look on her face turn to confusion before she shook her head, “No Kaz. I’m not mad at you”.
“Y/n, do not lie to me” he grumbled.
“I’m not” she sighed.
He stared at her and took a step closer to her, noticing how her body tensed when he did, “you’ve been distancing yourself from me. Yet, you claim you are not mad?”
Y/n quickly looked to the far wall as if one of her pinned up photos was suddenly more interesting than this conversation.
Yet, in a whispered voice she still spoke, “I’m not mad, Kaz”.
Kaz squinted, taking a step back to create more distance for her, “are you afraid of me then?”
She snapped her head towards him, a concoction of confusion, shock, anger, and guilt storming her face, “of course not!”
“Then tell me” he ordered, closing his eyes for half a second to compose himself, “if you’re not suddenly scared of me, tell me why you are distancing from me if you’re not mad”.
“I…I’m… not mad… I umm.. I’m..” she mumbled, biting her lip.
Kaz gave her a concerned look and took a cautious step towards her again, continuing when she didn’t look away.
“You’re not mad, but you are… what?” He asked calmly, a foot from her now.
“Frustrated” she whispered.
“What?” He repeated, not sure he heard her correctly.
“Frustrated!” She blurts loudly, looking away and pulling in her hair, “I’m frustrated, Kaz”.
“Frustrated is synonymous to mad, love” Kaz sighed harshly.
“Not that way” she said, shifting her gaze around rapidly.
“I don’t und-“ he stopped, realization hitting him.
He’d read the signs wrong.
Her hair wasn’t a mess due to running her hands through it out of anger.
His eyes shifted to her bed.
The bedsheets weren’t wrinkled and a mess because she’d been sleeping in them.
“Were you just touching yourself?” Kaz asked, the tension in the room thickening.
He noticed she refused to look at him, so he gently tapped her toe with the bottom of his cane.
She still didn’t look at him but nodded minimally.
Kaz felt his face heat up and an uncomfortable feeling form in his body at her confession.
Well, it wasn’t the feeling that was uncomfortable, it was the knowledge he couldn’t act on it.
The knowledge that he’d found himself needing sexual relief on numerous occasions with relation to her and not being able to act on it due to his touch aversion.
He hated that he put her in that same position and also that he couldn’t offer either of them the release they both needed and desired.
The biggest irritation he had with his aversion was that his body still held the capacity for desire and sexual attraction but he couldn’t act on it.
He hated that he wanted more than anything to be able to take her here and now but the thought also made him nauseous.
“Show me” Kaz said faintly, his brain body desperate for a compromise.
“What?” She squeaked, her eyes finally landing on his dark and fully dilated pupils.
“Show me what you like” he repeated, taking a slow step towards her bed.
“Kaz, what?” She asked breathlessly as her eyes widened.
He looked at the ground in guilt, “I cannot give you what you want”.
Y/n began to interrupt but he held his gloved hand up to signal her to stop.
“But, I’d like to see what it is you want” He said, his voice shaking.
He wasn’t sure he could handle this.
Sure she’d be touching herself, not him touching her.
But, he felt he might combust watching her get herself off by doing things to herself he could only dream of doing to her one day.
“Kaz. We don’t have to do this” She offered kindly, sensing his nervousness.
“I want to. I want to watch. Touch yourself for me. Be my hands” Kaz declared, his pants already feeling tighter as he admitted this desire.
Y/n took a shaky breath but nodded and made her way to the bed, unceremoniously crawling onto it.
She wasn’t opposed to it, but she knew intimacy was intense for Kaz and she didn’t want to push.
Y/n bit her lip as Kaz moved to stand beside her bed, as close as he’d allow himself to be.
“Kaz, I know this is really vulnerable for you, so we can take this as slow as you need and stop whenever. You’re in control here, okay?” She promised, staring into his eyes.
Kaz’s eyes softened for a moment -as he offered her a small smile and nodded-, before they shifted back to their dark state with a recently displayed lust tinting them.
He’d seen her naked before, having changed in front of him countless times at this stage in their relationship, but this was different; for both of them.
She felt her heart quicken, her hands trembling with nerves as she shyly started to lower her pants once again.
“Love, don’t be nervous, if you need, I’ll guide you through it. Just be my hands” Kaz heard himself state, surprising them both.
Y/n took a deep breath of air and nodded rapidly.
Kaz smirked, his eyes closing lustfully as he let them both catch their breath before beginning.
When he opened them, his pupils dilated again seeing she’d stripped out of her pants and panties, her lower half now fully exposed to him.
“Fuck” he breathed out, letting a rare curse slip.
She blushed but kept her eyes on his with a small smile on her lips.
“Shirt” he said, clarifying when his request was met with confusion, “your top too”.
Y/n smirked at him as she slowly removed her shirt to display her bare breasts before him, practically making him hard right away.
He swallowed thickly, adjusting his stance awkwardly, “you are perfect”.
Kaz learned long ago she loved him complimenting her and while he’d let that vulnerable side of him out more often since that discovery, this was new.
He’d reassured her how beautiful she was the first time he’d seen her naked body, needing to help her patch up a cut on her rib and thigh after a heist.
But this, this time, she was laying here before him, not because she was hurt or getting ready for bed.
Instead, she was all but presenting herself to him; a vulnerable and important moment for them both.
Kaz stared into her eyes, making sure she was comfortable with what they were about to do.
When he felt confident she was, he shut his eyes and softly said, “show me what you were doing”.
She nodded, looking down at her waist, her hand moving towards her center.
Y/n gazed off into space as she slowly ran her pointer finger down her pubic mound towards her lips.
Kaz eyes fixed on her finger, wanting so badly for it to be his own touching her that way.
He took a shaky breath at the thought of his son on her’s making her immediately stop and stare at him with concern.
He shook his head to calm her worries, “Don’t stop. Just, talk to me during it”.
She nodded, remembering how he’d cling to the sound of her voice when anxious.
“So,” she said with a breathy shyness, “ when I find myself needing a release, I start with this”.
Kaz focused on her voice and explanation while his eyes studied her demonstration and instructions with such intensity it was as if her pleasure were a heist he must successfully complete.
After a few minutes Kaz had become more comfortable and realized the bulge in his pants was already a step ahead of him.
He blindly reached for her desk chair, knowing he should sit.
But he couldn’t find it without looking away from her, and he wasn’t able to do that.
Kaz stared as her thighs clenched together, firmly trapping her hand between them.
"Spread your legs. I want to see how turned on I make you” he said, looking from her seized legs to her dazed eyes.
Her lips parted slightly as she complied, her hand now being the only thing blocking his view of her full anatomy.
“More” he said, his deep voice betraying his pleading, as did his gloved hand faintly placed on her closest knee.
“I love hearing you moan” Kaz blurted, pressing his hand firmly against his throbbing shaft through his pants.
She looks at him through hooded eyes, the fingers on her left hand still inserted into herself.
“Curl your finger” Kaz advised, an idea forming in his mind.
Y/n smirked lazily at his newly formed scheming face as she followed his suggestion.
“No, no, your ring finger” he corrected, his piercing eyes that were frozen on her swollen and flushed bare skin around her vulva, unsatisfied with the choice she made.
“Oh saints!” She cried out, her head slamming back into her bed aggressively.
Kaz felt his dick twitch as he proudly relished in her loud moans and watched her hips lift off the bedsheets.
“Mmm, that’s it, good girl” Kaz said, his voice dark.
Y/N’s eyes flitted closed as she twirled her hooked finger around inside of her walls, trying to not be so loud as she didn’t want to risk the others hearing.
“Mmm, come on darling” he whined, “let me hear you.”
She stirred slightly before pushing her fingers in deeper, moaning pleasurably as her vaginal opening stretched even more.
“That’s it” he grinned, his sight clouding a bit as he unconsciously began stroking his length through his dress pants, “I want to hear you say my name”.
Y/n needed a moment, so she slowly pulled her now soaking wet fingers from her vagina and rested her hand on her stomach, smirking at him.
“You what?” She teased, pretending she couldn’t hear his request.
His vision cleared as he lightly glared at her, “you heard me”.
She hummed, dancing her fingers tauntingly over her exposed skin from her neck down to her hips, “I don’t know that I did… Kaz”.
Kaz’s head snapped to the side quickly, his hand reaching out and pulling the desk chair to him.
He sat down just as his knees threatened to buckle from the tension between his legs and the sight of y/n sprawled teasingly before him.
Kaz knew he wasn’t going to win this, especially in his current state, so he repeated himself, “I need to hear you say my name”.
She smirked at him, “Kaz”.
He threw his head back in frustration with so much force he was surprised the chair didn’t break under him, “you know what I mean”.
Y/n loved seeing him like this, over her.
So she decided to drag it out a bit more, smiling innocently as she asked, “no, can you elaborate what it is you need me to do, Kaz?”.
Kaz clenched his jaw, returning his head to its normal position and watching the devilish glimmer in her eyes, “don’t push it, you’re the one who needed this. I can leave any moment”.
Y/n saw through his bluff, tilting her head sideways as she pushed her self up until her arms were supporting her back and half raised position.
“Kaz, honey, you can pretend all you want” she winks, bringing her still wet fingers up to her face and tracing the outline of her lips, “but I can see the mess you're making of yourself”.
He froze in confusion, following her gaze as she stared at his lap.
Kaz felt his cheeks double in temperature as he saw he’d practically ruined his dress pants.
The material now wet and clinging to him.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
“It’s okay Kaz, but I don’t think you’re quite done” she whispered sweetly, “why don’t I help you?”
Kaz stared up at her, his eyes soft but jaw tense, “I-… I can’t… yet.. I-“.
She shook her head, “I’m not going to touch you honey, I promise”.
He nodded appreciatively.
“You wanted me to moan your name?” She asked delicately.
He forced a weak glare making her laugh softly, “I can do that. But first, remove your pants”.
Kaz hesitated for a moment before standing enough to lower them to the floor.
“Now your underwear, the poor things are very clearly in both of our ways” she added, Kaz sighing tranquilly as he pushed the hem of his underwear towards the ground and let his penis fly upwards when it was free.
“Now, cup one hand around yourself, from underneath” y/n said, her gaze never leaving his erection.
Kaz obeyed, shivering as his cold leather glove wrapped around his length.
Y/n moaned lightly, Kaz’s eyes jumping to watch as her fingers walked down her bare body to her clit.
“With the other, rub the tip” she whispered seductively.
Kaz didn’t hesitate to do so and mirrored her moans with his own as he did.
“Look at me” Kaz rasped as her gaze has shifted to her waist.
“Oh, fu-“ y/n sighed, the knot in her stomach growing.
Kaz clenched his jaw more tightly as he continued masterbating as she had requested, but secretly trying not to climax yet.
He was fairly certain the leather in his gloves was going to cause his shaft to be raw by the end of the night but he couldn’t care less.
“Cum for me” he ordered sharply, not sure how much longer he could resist his release.
Y/n sensed his predicament and puckered her lips to blow him a kiss, “just let go Kaz”.
Kaz shook his head, but as she resumed circling her clit he found his resistance weaning.
“More pressure” he advised her, having made mental note of what seemed to work best for her earlier in the night.
“Ka-Kaz,” she moaned, her eye lids fluttering as she pushed her thumb harder against her clitoris.
At that, Kaz’s self preservation disintegrated in an instant.
“Oh” he moaned, his voice breathy, “fuck”.
He threw his head back, his neck bending as the back of his head rested between his shoulder blades.
“Don’t stop doing what I taught you. You’re being my hands, remember? Keep moving” She ordered, a smirk painting her tone.
“Y-y/n” Kaz shakingly mumbled, his eyes glazed over, “fuck, you’re… fuck”.
Kaz was certain it was the least intelligible thing he’d ever spoken but the bliss he felt kept him from caring.
He wiped the white cream from himself and the bedspread next to her, too relaxed to be embarrassed over the mess he made and how vulnerable he was.
“Shit, Kaz” she groaned, her lips curling at the ends as she watched him.
“Cum for me” he repeated his earlier request.
Y/n chuckled softly, tiredly bringing her hand back down to her wet lips.
“Kaz” she moaned softly, her eyes glimmering as she held eye contact with him.
Kaz smiled faintly, lifting his cane.
He delicately tapped the side of the crow’s beak to y/n’s swollen clitoris twice before lowering his cane back to the floor.
She shivered at the cold sensation before her eyes darkened as she looked back over at him.
He nodded with a smirk on his lips, “keep your eyes open and on me”.
Y/n silently obeyed, her fingers picking up their pace.
Kaz’s smirk grew as he watched her desire increase.
He intentionally ran a hand through his hair, having been clued in that it was a turn on for her.
She grinned and shook her head weakly, letting him know she knew what he was doing.
Triggering another turn on, Kaz held eye contact with her as he smirked more before licking his lip, “so unfathomably irresistible”.
Kaz lips shifted into a cocky grin as she loudly whimpered his name, her back arching towards the ceiling and legs trembling.
“That’s it darling, just keep being my hands” he encouraged, watching as she softly stroked herself as she rode out her orgasm.
“While I must point out that we could have started this much earlier had you not hid, I do prefer the location” Kaz stated, handing her a towel from her dresser.
“Oh?” She asked, her voice still faint from her climax.
“It means I don’t need to clean my sheets” he smirked teasingly.
She scoffed, feigning offense.
“Hmm, well, I suppose we’ll see if the door will be unlocked next time or not” she teased, delicately cleaning herself up.
Kaz squinted at her as he pulled his trousers back up.
“Fine, I can begin washing my sheets” he complied.
“You haven’t been washing them?!” She gasped, wanting to smack his shoulder.
Kaz chuckled, a laugh he’d only allow the person currently before him to ever hear, “Of course I’ve cleaned them; you sweat in your sleep”.
Y/n’s jaw dropped as she stared at him in shock, somehow mortified over the idea of her sleep sweating in his bed, despite what just happened in here between them.
Kaz laughed loudly, his dimples showing as he shook his head, “darling, it was a joke. You’re perfect”.
Y/n placed the towel on the other side of her, turning to face Kaz as she tugged on her blanket.
He smiled tenderly at her - another behavior only she’d witness- before standing to help pull her blanket over her body the way she wanted.
His gloved hands were sure to never touch her skin during the act.
But, as he set the fabric over her bare chest, he sucked in a deep breath before he slid his gloved fingers under her arm to tuck in the blanket.
He’d touched her skin more directly than that by now, but after the intensity of the moment immediately prior, he didn’t want to risk ruining the intimate moment they shared by taking a chance.
She smiled up at him, her body relaxed and eyes heavy.
Kaz nodded as he sat back down in his chair.
“Kaz” She whispered, waiting until he nodded again for her to continue.
“Do I swear in my sleep?” She asked, making him laugh again.
He rolled his eyes, “I honestly would not know. It’s my obsessive need to stick to a routine that prompts me to wash our sheets, not you “.
Her shoulders lowered as she nodded happily, “okay. So your room next time?”.
Kaz smirked, resting his gloved palm a few centimeters from her arm, “as long as you’ll continue to be my hands for now, we can do whichever room”.
“If you’ll be my hands taking care of you, I’ll be yours” y/n promised, grinning tiredly at him.
Kaz nodded in agreement, “the deal is the deal. Now, rest”.
Y/n grinned at him once more before letting her eyes close, peacefully falling asleep. 
Kaz Brekker Navigation/Masterlist
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Kaz Brekker Tag List (comment here to added):
@directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r ( @chewiethecatus for this one only as it was for your request)
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Pairing: Neteyam x reader
PART ONE PART THREE
Summary: Neteyam confronts his fears of the scientists compound in his attempts to reach you. He’s all over you the second he see’s you and while you don’t really know what he’s saying it doesn’t fail to have an effect on you.
Warnings: I basically turned him into a cat unintentionally.
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: I did not proof read this very well cause I was working on multiple fics then realised I had nothing to post! She’s as good as it gets rn kids sorry.
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