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legends-of-apex · 2 years

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‘Atta Girl’ | Tangerine x f!Reader (18+)

rating: 18+ (semi-public smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, profanity)

word count: 819

summary: In which Tangerine fingers f!reader in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant. Featuring lots of Tangerine's use of pet names and encouragement.

‘Mind and keep quiet if you don’t wanna get caught, love. Because you know I couldn’t really give a fuck if we do or not.’

‘You’re not making that easy!’ You replied with a shaky breath.

Tangerine chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the mess he was making of you. Few things got him off quite like having you stood on shaky legs with his fingers nestled between your thighs in a place like this.

Thankfully the bathroom had been empty since you slipped away with him and slammed the stall door closed, his lips on your neck and your fingers entwining with strands of his dark hair. Someone could still walk in at any moment. The bathroom wasn't even especially far from the restaurant’s bustling floor. Sound seemed to carry well in there too from the marble tiles to the soaring ceiling. Tangerine’s dress shoes had clicked loudly as he ushered you into that stall.

You had to at least try and keep quiet but he never made that easy.

‘Sorry, love.’ He responded like a man who absolutely was not sorry for any of this. You had outright asked for this but had wrongly presumed he’d make you wait until you got home to his place. It was easy to forget Tangerine was compulsive enough to finger you in a restaurant bathroom. ‘The worst that can happen is someone walks in and then you’ll really have to keep quiet. So for now just relax and enjoy it, yeah?’

You knew he had you. One thing about Tangerine is that he always makes sure to support your body and keep you close. So you decided to relax and trust that he had you, as he always did.

‘That’s it. Atta girl.’ He praised when you relaxed in his hold.

He liked watching your face as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, as he curled them to make your thighs quiver and shake. When you flung your head back against the wall of the bathroom stall it was like dangling a carrot on a string, your neck was just begging to be kissed. So he pressed his lips to it. The soft prickle along your neck from the hair upon his upper lip made you gasp.

‘I wish we were home right now so I could fuck you good and proper. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ He mumbled against your skin and you groaned at the thought. ‘We wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom, love. I’d have you sprawled out on the fucking dining room table with your dress still on and all.’

He loved the way sweat gathered and glistened on your sweet skin, the sheer desperation for release that laced your every movement, your every half-swallowed cry.

‘God, look at you.’ He admired, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now?’

Your clit pulsed beneath his thumb as he pressed down on it in smooth circles. His pace was steady and thorough enough that you cried out so loud he had to kiss you to muffle the sound.

‘Careful.’ He warned. ‘As much as I love the sound of your pretty voice we don’t want to cut this short now do we?’

You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and waistcoat until your fingers cramped; Anything in a bid to relieve tension as he flexed his fingers inside of you so deliciously. It made him want to ravish you, to wrap your legs around his waist and have you right against the stall.

‘I’m close!’ Your voice wavered. The pace of his fingers sent heat down your back, pooling in your stomach like white-hot amber. Your entire body tensed. Your breath fell so heavy and quick.

‘You gonna come for me? Come on now, I know it’s gonna be beautiful.’

So you let the floodgates open.

He kept up the pace of his fingers even as you buried your head in his shoulder to muffle yourself, to keep your voice from bouncing off the walls. You barely even registered that he was praising you until you felt his lips on your forehead and the fullness dissipating along with his fingers from within you.

‘You alright, gorgeous?’ He asked with a gentle gaze and the softest touch to your cheek. ‘You did so well.’

You nodded and still held onto him as you caught your breath and your limbs softened. Tangerine was in no mood to rush your recovery. Instead, he took to smoothing your dress back down for you before pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. His clothes were just as much of a mess as yours were from your clawing at them but he couldn't bring himself to care.

‘Do you think our food’s gone cold?’ You questioned once your breath evened.

‘It most certainly has, I reckon.’ He replied with a laugh.

Tagging: @icy-spicy @simpingforclaudette (Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tangerine tag list <3)

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #aaron taylor johnson #fic #reader insert #one shot #mine #my writing #k.exe #not sfw

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legends-of-apex · 11 months

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It’s Done | Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

Rating: 18+ for smut

Word count: 2,3k

Summary: Spoilers for Shadow and Bone season 2! After winning back the Crow Club and Inej’s freedom from Pekka Rollins, Kaz returns home to you bloodied, beaten but with desire burning through his veins. You offer him an outlet for that. This is show!Kaz so he is very much an adult!!

Tags: Smut, rough sex, Kaz’s trauma, p in v sex, injury/violence/blood mention, Kaz is okay with p in v sex but is still touch-averse, established relationship, clothed sex, bathroom sex, dirty talk, praise, aftercare, he calls the reader “good girl” and “darling”, AFAB reader, slightly ooc Kaz as I haven’t written him before

When Kaz Brekker strode through the door with blood and a look of utter delirium on his face, worry flooded your veins. His eyes of endless oceans were wild, pupils blown and his chest heaved. His hair hung loose in front of his eyes, swinging with each hurried step in your direction.

With each tap of his cane against the floorboards, the coil of worry in your stomach began to fade only to be replaced by something much more dangerous.

“I need you," he uttered, barely above a strained whisper.

“So have me.”

You wanted him. How couldn't you when he looked at you like that? Like he was a man on fire and you alone held the water that could quench the flame.

“Would you really let me have you like this?” He asked, stepping close enough that his outbreath rustled your hair. “With another man’s blood on my face… half-mad with spite?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, please.”

Oh, how generous a lover you were. Whatever did Kaz Brekker in all his crooked life do to deserve you?

Usually Kaz would at the very least take the time to enjoy the warm weight of your chest in his gloved hands or whisper delicately in your ear until you were squirming for him, untouched. But tonight, all he needed was relief from the adrenaline coursing through his hurried veins. The adrenaline ran so high that the cold waters barely even threatened to rise at his close proximity to you. His palms didn’t sweat.

The fire of want consumed him. He needed you here and he needed you now.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, quietly. “I'm afraid I can’t have you gently tonight.”

“I don’t want you gently.”

He studied your face for any hesitation, any discomfort yet he found none. Even in his bloodied, frazzled state you gazed up at him with want in your eyes. Kaz felt like his skin was on fire.

With hurried hands he simply pressed you against the bathroom sink, knocked your legs wide open with the end of his cane and got to work.

Kaz hadn’t even bothered shedding his bloodied clothes. It was better that way, less risky for him. Only his jacket hung deftly on the hook at the door. A few folds of his shirt sleeves had his pale forearms glinting in the low light but his gloves stayed firmly in place. He’d come far but not far enough to have you without that barrier just yet.

He bunched your skirts together in his fist and peeled away your underwear. You gasped when he tore the lace at the hip and tossed them to lay in a heap on the bathroom floor. There was no time for neatness. He was the one who bought them for you in the first place and he would be happy to replace the pair.

“Saints, look at you.”

Were he a better man, he’d hoist you up on the sink so he could kiss you and dote on you as you deserved. Were he a better man he’d know he wasn’t good enough to be here with you at all. But in the end good men die just the same as bad ones. And you didn’t want a good man. You wanted him.

He tucked his face into your neck, feeling your pulse with his lips. You’re skin is warm and soft and inviting. Blood rushed through your veins beneath your skin. Your hair so soft and skin so smooth reminded him that you’re alive, you’re here and you want him to have you. He used your drumming pulse as an anchor.

With one bruising kiss of thanks to your cheek, Kaz sank into you.

His ribs ached and creaked with each thrust. His temple stung, ears still ringing. Pekka Rollins had definitely broken something when he kicked him as hard as the man could muster but Kaz couldn't find it in him to care. His knee ached too. A sharp pain shot through it when he tried putting even a sliver of weight on it. So he grasped at the sink’s smooth edge to keep himself steady and his pace thorough. Your sweet sighs made it all worth it. He could rest his body once the good work was done.

"My name. Say it,” he gritted out.

“Kaz!”

He grinned, flashing a sliver of teeth. All he needed right now was this.

The bone-white sink kept you upright for the most part, your hands gripping desperately at its sides as Kaz shook your very soul to its core. He’d started off with calculated, deliberate thrusts before the need took over.

Saints, that man knew how to fuck hard when he wanted to.

They say that Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason but he certainly did to fuck you like this. He was usually so gentle. If it wasn’t for your encouragement he might have been able to show restraint. But your cries for more made him want to give you just that. He’d have put his beating heart in the palm of your hand if you asked. He would rip the stars from the sky and scatter them at your feet if only to see your eyes brighten for him.

“Please!”

The sound was the sweetest nectar, a balm to all his ills. Your voice warmed the very caverns of his cold and bitter bones. But more than that, it grounded him. The sound kept the waters at bay and he savoured it.

“More, Kaz. Please.”

His gloved hand gripped your chin, guiding you to look at him in the mirror. In the low light he looked almost demonic. His face bathed in the warm tones from candlelight that cast deep cut shadows bordering every ridge. His hair, once so precisely slicked back, hung loose and swung against his forehead with each plunge of his hips. Fresh blood had even begun to trickle from the gash above his eye. Kaz's molten gaze had your knees threatening to buckle from intensity. The jet black of his pupils all but eclipsed the startling blue.

That man in the mirror? That was Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands and whatever other name people whispered as he walked by with blood coating the end of his cane. Here he was brimming with adrenaline, dishevelled and so deliciously unhinged and you loved every inch of him.

Whatever mask of civility he wore on the day to day was torn to shreds sometime in between being kicked in the stomach by Pekka Rollins and having finally had the man on his knees. The sometimes gentle, maybe even soft man Kaz could be with you may as well have sunk to the bottom of Reaper’s Barge for all his presence was felt right now. He was death himself come to steal you away and you went with him merrily.

“Please, Kaz!” You cried out, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Tell me just what it is that you’re asking for so politely?" He murmured with his voice so smooth.

"More! Please, I want to come!"

"Is that so?" He asked, grinning again. "Very good. Keep your eyes on me."

You did just that. Watching in the mirror as he took his hand from your chin and flexed it once before bringing it down to the soft flesh of your thigh. This was the tricky part. Being inside you was as easy as breathing; Your warm honeyed walls welcomed him home each time. Even with gloved hands, it was touching the rest of you that caused the waters to rise, inch by freezing inch.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” Your voice pulled him out of the harbour again.

“No, I want to.” He replied, but you saw the clench of his jaw in the mirror. “So long as you’ll have me.”

You really didn’t mind touching yourself but Kaz was determined. He wanted to bring you all the pleasure you deserved. Even if it risked the waters trying to drown him, he needed this.

You nodded your consent and he started off slow with little squeezes as he made his way up your thigh. His hips slowed to a grind now as he touched you. When the waters began to rise, Kaz let his lips find your pulse point again and buried his face in your neck. Your words of encouragement helped greatly but it was the soft thump of your heartbeat that sent the waves lulling down to his feet.

“Each day, each night, I yearn to have you like this.” He uttered, close enough that you could feel his breath kiss your ear. "More than you could possibly imagine."

"Even when I dream I can’t escape you," he added.

Heat bloomed in you the closer he got to where you needed him. Your body began to shake when two leather-clad fingers parted your folds and dove right for your clit. You'd never realised his gloves had the most delicious texture. You couldn't help the moan of his name that escaped you at the feeling. Not only did it feel good, you were so endlessly proud of him. Kaz revelled in it. Your body's reaction sent any anxiety he had flying out the window as he focused on bringing you pleasure.

He had to plant one hand firmly on the mirror so he had enough leverage to fuck you properly again. The mirror squeaked as his hand slid down it just an inch or two. When you gasped he smirked like the devil and only went harder, his hair threatening to cover his eyes.

"Tell me how it feels." He ordered.

"So good!" You whined, "It feels so fucking good."

There was something almost sacred about this: Him buried deep inside you, his hand on your pussy and your pulse on his lips. He'd never felt so rich in his life and yet he still wanted more.

“Come,” he gritted out. "Be a good girl and come for me. That’s it. That’s it, darling."

With a shiver, you did just that. Your thighs shook like you were freezing. When you clenched around him he failed to suppress a groan and it was beautiful; The crack in his concrete composure akin to watching an angel fall.

Soon Kaz was pulling out and resting the full weight of his body on the mirror for support. His arms caged you between him and the sink as you stood there breathing heavily together.

Saints, he needed that.

"Thank you." Kaz breathed, taking in the sight of you in the reflection.

Kaz tucked himself back into his dress trousers and took a step towards the bath. The bath was made of smooth, rich copper and aside from the stolen DeKappel painting hanging on his office wall, it was the most expensive thing Kaz now owned. Once the bath was filled, he extended a hand towards you and you took it after shedding your dress, letting him help you take a shaky step into the warm water.

He watched you settle down into the water, steam already leaving droplets on your skin. The sigh of contentment that passed your lips made him envious. Not of you but of the water. He wished he could give you as much comfort and relief. As much as he would love to get in there with you, to let you lay back against his chest as the water relaxed you; He couldn't and he likely never would. The harbour would come flooding back to him more quickly than he could ever hope to handle.

So instead he lowered himself to the ground with a wince and sat with his cane across his lap, legs outstretched on the cool bathroom floor. His knee would hate him for it but he couldn’t bear to be away from you right now.

He watched you trail your finger over the water's surface, seemingly lost in thought until your eyes landed on him. The water sloshed against the tub's curved edges as you moved towards the side.

"Can I borrow your gloves for a moment, please?" You asked softly, as if not to startle him.

His eyes met yours and he found nothing but softness in them. You just wanted to help and he trusted you with his life. So he tugged them off, one slender finger at a time, and handed them to you once you dried your hands on a towel. Kaz felt bare without his gloves, exposed and so very vulnerable. Yet he was mesmerised watching your delicate hands disappear into the black leather.

With a cotton pad folded over your gloved fingers, you leaned over the bathtub’s edge to dab at the blood on his brow, then his lower lip. Kaz was sure he must’ve smeared some crusted blood on your neck when he sought solace with your heartbeat. But you didn’t seem to care.

Once he had his gloves back on, you placed a kiss to his knuckles. Those hands that had done so many bad and crooked things? They didn’t deserve such a kiss but he hadn’t the heart to deny you right now, not when you looked at him like he held the sun in his hands. And if you wanted it, he’d do his damndest to steal it for you.

You settled back into the water, enjoying the steam. The water relaxed your muscles, washed away the sweat and grime of the Barrell.

“So it’s done, then?” You asked about Pekka Rollins.

“Yes.” He replied, eyes unfocused. “It’s done.”

Kaz rested his head against the wall and dragged a hand back through his stubborn hair in an attempt to smooth it out of his face. He let a rare sense of peace wash over him. There was always so much pain in his world, in his life. But not in that room right now. Not with you.

Tagging: no one as this is my first time writing Kaz! Please feel free to drop me an ask, message or comment if you’d like to be tagged in future Kaz fics tho :)

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #not sfw #shadow and bone #my fic #six of crows #grishaverse #mine #k.exe #he really had me barking in that scene with Pekka okay

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