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#patience saint pim
unholy-boi · 7 months
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got asked to put together an adventure time nightmare blunt rotation. who are you guys smoking with?
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wilderhyperfoxations · 10 months
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i don't know if anyone has pointed it out, but the two ice elementals we know are called "URGENCE evergreen" and "PATIENCE saint pim". a lot of people probably noticed already but i'm slow okay
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archirk · 7 months
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I was also a fan of st. patience pim which had even less time on screen than fern.
When I first published the first one in 2017, I applied all my online marketing knowledge to push first image to the top of Google Image results and I achieved that and it was between 1-3 places in results. I was so proud of it. It was in top results until i eliminated all my drawings from social media where i could.
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mourningmaybells · 1 year
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i like how they pitched adventure time as a sort of power fantasy to boys but then slowly started to get weird girl vibes until 80% of the cast were weird girls and women who weren't romantically interested in finn and two of the women people thought finn would end up with (look unfortunately 12 year olds dont have a clear concept of age gaps yet. i sure didn't) ended up getting together
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awakefor48hours · 7 months
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With Ice Prince still out there and is (to my knowledge) Patience Saint Pim, there’s a chance that Mundaneworld can still be magical. In the way that Patience got the elementals together in the Element mini series, Ice Prince could something similar
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Small Patience Saint Pim icon set! Feel free to take! 
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anonniemousefics · 4 years
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The Deal Is The Deal
Originally posted on AO3
Fandom: Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom | Kaz + Inej
Word count: 7,774
***Rating: NSFW (aged-up characters) -- I’m gonna say this is a 7 on the smut scale***
This piece follows The Trouble With Wanting and is best read second.
Synopsis: Kaz Brekker is not a useless podge who mopes and stews over his personal problems. Kaz Brekker makes deals. Kaz Brekker enforces. Kaz Brekker stays twenty steps ahead. (Or that’s at least what he tells himself.)
Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason, but the right reason made him damn near unstoppable. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Part of crafting a persona your enemies feared involved a considerable amount of convincing yourself of your own fearlessness. And Kaz was very good at convincing. Kaz Brekker always got what he wanted. That’s what he told himself.
Because Inej Ghafa was his perfect reason. Ketterdam had tried to break her a thousand times more than it had broken him, and still she was a better person than he could ever hope to be. He’d always believed the world would be better off if Inej had her way in all things. Making that reality had now become his singular focus.
He had sat in this same spot many times before, at his desk chair in Per Haskell’s old office on the main floor of the Crow Club, considering the terms of their deal and how he would fulfill them. Kaz Brekker was not a useless podge who moped and stewed over his personal problems. Kaz Brekker made deals. Kaz Brekker enforced. Kaz Brekker stayed twenty steps ahead.
(That’s what he told himself.)
Inej had laughed at him when he’d framed it in this way – their deal. But he didn’t mind. If he ever became stranded on a desert island, he could have lived off her laugh alone.
“You can’t just call it something normal?” she had asked him, over a year ago.
They were sitting on the tiles of the roof of The Slat when Inej said this, a blanket of stars overhead. A half-empty bottle of kvas had sat between them, an unspoken boundary he wasn’t sure which one of them would attempt to cross first. Probably her, that’s what he was betting. She always had been braver than he.
“Is what we’re dealing with normal?” Kaz countered.
“A relationship where two people have problems?” said Inej, and she rolled her eyes. “No, you’re absolutely right. We’re revolutionaries.”
“You know what I mean.” Kaz shot her a sideways look. Inej sighed in reluctant acknowledgement. All Kaz had to do to know how the odds were stacked against them was to walk down the street. Men and women all over Ketterdam could hold hands, casually kiss on their way out of their front doors, fuck in dark alleys when they thought they were alone. Kaz and Inej were, as much as they hated it, different.
The only way forward, the only way Kaz knew, was to strike a deal.
“I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know anything about relationships, Inej,” he said, “but I do know deals. And I know how to con. And that’s what will save this.”
“Enlighten me,” Inej drawled. She was raising an eyebrow, her head propped up on her arms as she wrapped them around her knees. Guarded, Kaz noted, and with good reason. He wasn’t offering her romance, and for that, he felt a twinge of shame. Somewhere in him had to be a better man for her, and he hoped it wouldn’t take too long to unearth him. Damn it all, he would try.
“You want me.” He could say it now with more confidence, but it still sounded unbelievable. “And I want you. Mind, body, and soul.”
“Hm.” Inej hummed her approval, lifting her head just a bit. In the dim light from the streets below, he could see a tiny smile play on her lips.
“Those are the terms of the deal. Simple enough, really. Unfortunately,” he stretched out his bad leg, leaning back on his hands, “our bodies are not holding up their end of the bargain. And what do we do when cocky little sods won’t follow through on their deals?”
Inej unfurled her legs then, leaning back as he had. She wore a cheeky half smile as she clucked her tongue with a pitying sigh.
“Penalties,” she said.
“Exactly,” Kaz nodded. “We collect. We learn their histories, we learn their motives, we learn what they love, what they hate, what frightens them, what bores them. We learn all this so we can apply the perfect amount of pressure, combined with just the right leverage.”
“I can’t believe this is making sense.” Inej was shaking her head in disbelief as she took a swig from the bottle.
“The deal is the deal, Inej,” Kaz said. He shifted so he was looking at her face, the thick braid that fell over her slender shoulder. “And if our deal is to each other, and our bodies are violating our terms, then I swear to learn everything I can to give you the leverage you need to break this stupid sod.” And he thrust a hand against his chest to drive the point home.
“He is not a stupid sod,” Inej said, tenderly, her brown eyes sparkling, and slowly, she pressed her fingers over his on his chest. Kaz swallowed hard, feeling his heart in his throat. Alive. Alive. Alive, he told himself. Her flesh was warm, dry, living, her pulse in her palm. Different. Good. Deep breath. Alive.
When his heart rate slowed again, he wrapped her fingers in his and pressed a quick kiss to the back of her hand. Alive. Good. It was good. And her smile that followed, breathtaking.
Worth it.
“And I swear the same to you,” Inej promised. She leaned closer so that their shoulders brushed, and she looked up at him through oil-black lashes. He could smell her hair in the night breeze, the sweet coconut oil she used. Intoxicating. Thank her Saints this world isn’t a just one, he thought to himself. He was sure he’d done nothing to deserve such a face. “They say Kaz Brekker never met a safe he couldn’t crack,” she went on. “I suppose I shouldn’t doubt you can figure out my combination.”
His mouth felt dry and his slacks a little tighter as she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. It was barely a peck, but for the first time, it wasn’t enough. He found himself leaning forward, eyes closed, even as she pulled away. From the smirk she wore when he opened his eyes to her, she had noticed.
“I might like your metaphor better,” he confessed, his voice hoarse. And Inej laughed.
That was their deal. Conduct reconnaissance. Apply pressure. Utilize leverage. Crack the safe.
Nina Zenik would have a field day with these innuendoes, he realized. If it had been an actual contract, he should have considered some kind of non-disclosure clause.
Getting sloppy, Brekker.
He had his black-trousered legs propped up on the desk, trying to quickly wolf down the sandwich Pim had brought in for him from a nearby street vendor. He knew he ought to have taken the walk himself. It helped to stretch out his bad leg a few times a day or taking the stairs up to The Slat would be nearly impossible. But he was up to his tie knot in paperwork, and he got distracted far too easily these days. There were reminders of her everywhere.
This chair, for example. He was torn between saving it forever, maybe casting in bronze, or replacing it completely for the sake of his work ethic. It was there, barely a month ago, that they’d somehow found themselves late one night while Inej was portside. He couldn’t even remember now why they hadn’t gone upstairs to The Slat. Maybe it had been the crowd in the Crow Club. Didn’t matter. He’d locked the door, and one thing had led to another, and somehow he’d ended up sitting in this exact chair, Inej straddling his lap.
He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. There were no waters lapping at his ankles. Jordie’s ghost was apparently growing disinterested in his little brother’s dalliance. And Inej showed no signs of vanishing. Rather the opposite. She was above him, running her hands from his chest to his hair, her lips desperate for his. He’d even forgotten to take off his gloves, but she didn’t seem to care as he traced the slope of her hips, the curves of her muscled thighs that gripped either side of his.
“I want you,” she gasped between heated kisses. She held his jaw in her hands, demanding.
“You have me,” he rasped. He slid his hands up the lithe curve of her waist, where the base of her ribs flared with every ragged breath.
“I want to touch you.” Kaz thought he was seeing stars as she worked her lips over his jawline to the shell of his ear. She nipped at his earlobe, and he shivered. “But I’m not ready for you to touch me yet,” she whispered there.
At that, Kaz pulled back from her a moment, hovering his hands over her body. He tried to be a quick student of her, of this maddening, irresistible lock of hers. He knew well enough that when the lock said stop, you damn well stopped.
“Are you ok?” He gave her a quick, concerned assessment. Her demons were cunning, but they were becoming easier for him to spot. But in that moment, Inej was rosy-cheeked and biting her lip, her dark, thick braid coming loose around her face and shoulders. She was breathless, her breasts rising and falling just inches from his body. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t lost sleep wondering when he was going to hold them again, but he wasn’t about to press the issue. Patience. Leverage. That was their deal.
Inej leaned into him, sliding her arms over his shoulders as her breasts pressed against his chest.
“I’m just gathering information,” she insisted, meeting his lips again, just once. “Leverage.” Another kiss to his jaw. He felt like a human stick of butter, sliding down a pan. “Pressure.” And she ground her hips against his, rubbing against his cock so that it throbbed. The sound that came up from his chest was not one he’d ever heard from his body before.
“You do not have to do this, Inej,” he said, in spite of himself, still wary of the last time they’d pushed into new territory.
Inej sat back so that he could see her full face, the streetlight from outside glowing orange behind her black hair like a halo. He searched her soft brown eyes, not understanding the look on her face.
“That’s exactly why I want to,” she said, softly.
It was moments like this Kaz could almost hear the sound of lock tumblers clicking into place.
He sat back, his gloved hands gripping on the arms of his chair.
“I’m all yours, Inej,” he said, his voice husky. He trusted her with his demons. He trusted her with his life.
She had her hands on his torso, raking her eyes over his body, and he felt like he might catch fire. These men who bought their pleasure in brothels could never know the thrill of being so desperately wanted, and, for a moment, he almost pitied them. Almost.
“It doesn’t bother you, when I sit on you like this?” Inej asked, flicking a glance up at him. Kaz could only shake his head, dumbly. If she only knew how incredible she looked up there. They built monuments to this kind of glory.
“And it doesn’t bother you when I do…this?” Inej palmed her hand against his cock, and Kaz drew in a sharp breath. Had she asked a question? Was he meant to answer?
“This,” he was stammering as she slowly stroked his cock through his trousers, “this is what you want?” He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming.
Over him, Inej nodded, her eyes dark and smoldering. The leather on his gloves creaked as he tightened his hands on the chair. He wouldn’t try to touch her, not without instruction. Those were her terms.
Outside the locked office door, the sounds of drunken laughter and broken glass bottles rose as Kaz’s head slipped back against the chair with a groan. Inej kept her eyes trained on him, like she was hungry, devouring his every movement as she applied pressure, slowly stroking him from hilt to head and back again. As his eyes slipped close, his breathing deepening, she leaned in against him again, her body hot and taut, planting kisses up his neck.
In that moment, he didn’t give a single fuck about anything else, not revenge, not profit, not the Dime Lions, not the ghosts of his past. There was only Inej. His Inej. The girl he was determined give the world to, just you wait.
“Inej,” he breathed, and he felt her smile against his face.
“It’s good?” she whispered, checking. Good? That was a pitiful word for what it was. And if he wasn’t currently losing all sense of time and space, he’d have offered a better word.
“This is good information, Brekker,” she crooned in his ear.
Kaz was sure he’d never been so hard in his life. He clenched his fists tighter, his breath quickening, and vowed to meet this offer in equal exchange as soon as he could.
“I’m going to be a better man for you, Inej,” he heard himself spout, maybe a little too loud. He was panting, shaking. There was a crest rising inside of him, a wave of energy stronger than any he’d felt before.
“You don’t need to--” Inej started to say when Kaz let out a moan.
“I’m going to love you the way you deserve,” he swore with a gasp.
“You do; you already do,” and Inej covered his mouth with hers as he broke apart beneath her, a low moan against her lips as the wave crashed over him, sending him out into the sky.
And he didn’t care so much in the moment how gross he felt in his slacks, as Inej leaned her forehead against his. His chest heaved while he caught his breath, still coming down from the clouds, and she whispered to him, “I say your name when I touch myself, too.”
So, the chair had to go. Or stay. Whatever. Either way, in its current state, the paperwork was mounding up, and she was due back any day now, and he had to get caught up. This was not how he wanted to be spending his time while she was back in Ketterdam.
“Kaz!” Jesper Fahey shoved open the office door with a shout, startling Kaz.
“Shit, Jes. Knock,” Kaz swore. “I could have been indisposed.”
“Sure,” Jesper rolled his eyes in disbelief. Kaz pressed back a smirk to himself, thinking of the chair. Maybe the chair stayed after all.
“So, it’s true, then.” Jesper strode to the middle of the office, folding his arms. “There is a mattress in your office.”
Kaz glanced at what Jesper now pointed at, accusingly. It was true. The mattress was pushed vertical up against the wall, to keep it out of the way while he worked during the day.
“Astute of you to notice,” Kaz grunted, pulling at the next piece of paperwork in the pile. Expense reports. This one was last month’s? Fuck.
“Pim and Anika are worried about the mattress in your office,” Jesper said. “So, Kaz, why is there a mattress in your office?”
“I’m having construction done on The Slat,” Kaz shrugged, which was true. “I can’t sleep up there until it’s done.”
“That’s it?” Jesper glared at him, incredulous, his eyes in slits.
“There is no mystery here, Jes.” Kaz spread his hands out wide. “There is construction upstairs, so I sleep down here.”
“This is weird. Even for you,” Jesper frowned. “Anika thought maybe your leg was getting worse. Like you couldn’t make it up the stairs.”
“I can still beat your ass up and down those stairs. Happy? I have work.”
“So, what are you having done to The Slat?” Jesper was leaning against the far wall, his arms still crossing, looking about as moveable as a mountain. Kaz chewed on the inside of his lip.
“I just wanted running hot water,” he lied. Well, it was true enough, anyway. There would be running hot water up in The Slat when all was said and done.
He wasn’t ready to tell Jesper the real reason, what had happened six months ago that had snowballed into him sleeping on a narrow mattress at night in his office. He didn’t want to admit why aloud, but deep down, he was always waiting for the day when Inej had had enough of this, their deal, enough of him. It would break him when that happened, he knew it would. And if he had to break the news of it to Jesper, too, broken and in shambles… he just couldn’t imagine doing it. It was safer for everyone, Kaz included, if no one knew.
He’d thought that day had come six months ago. Why it hadn’t was only a testament to Inej’s undying patience.
Sometimes, when Kaz’s bad leg hurt in the night, it helped to walk the streets. He liked to think it made him look unpredictable. You never knew at what hour Dirtyhands could appear. A short stroll around the block could get the blood flowing in his leg and send a message to the thugs and goons lurking about the dark alleys at night all in the same half hour. Efficiency at its finest.
He took a slow walk that night. He’d spent too many hours at his desk that day, and his leg was stiff and the ache was constant. It was when he’d paused past the glow of a street lamp that he sensed the shadows flit about behind him, and, without moving his weight from his cane, he began to reach for the revolver in his coat pocket.
“Kaz, it’s just me.” Inej’s whisper stopped him, and as he turned to the alleyway, his girl was leaping silently from a fire escape and his heart stuttered. She could land on her feet like a cat and throw back her braid when she stood, not a bead of sweat on her.
Kaz checked the streets, back and forth, but saw no one.
“You’re following me,” he observed, and was it weird he was flattered? “I wasn’t expecting you to dock until tomorrow.”
“We caught a strong current,” said Inej, who kept to the shadows and leaned against the side of the alley. “And it’s not that I don’t trust your new spider, but I don’t trust your new spider.”
Kaz huffed a laugh. Anika was learning, but it was true there would never be another Wraith.
“Find anything interesting?” he asked.
“Your reign of terror here is making these streets rather boring,” Inej shrugged. “No one’s tried to mug me or shank me all night.”
“I gave the muggers and the shankers the night off. Tuesday nights are strictly for public urination.”
“Is that what you’re doing out and about?”
“Change starts at the top, Inej. No one gets immunity in the Barrel.”
Inej stifled a laugh behind her fingerless gloves, and Kaz desperately wanted to kiss her.
“Were you going to stop by tonight?” he asked instead.
“Depended on what I found,” she replied.
“And?”
“If you’ll have me.”
If he would have her? Saints. Perhaps he hadn’t been clear enough. He would have her every day for the rest of his life if she wanted.
“I’ll meet you in The Slat,” he said instead.
He thought about kissing her all the way home, and he climbed the stairs as quickly as his throbbing leg would allow. But when he locked the door and turned to face her, Inej was sitting on the edge of his narrow bed, her slim body looking a little slouched, as she hid a yawn behind her hand. Of course, she was exhausted. And he offered her something he’d never offered before: a place in his bed for the night.
She’d looked both a little nervous and a little intrigued by the concept, and eventually gave in. He offered her one of his nightshirts to sleep in and couldn’t help himself from gazing over her bare legs, the way the thin fabric skimmed over the supple curve of her ass.
They decided the night was just for sleeping, and while Kaz waited for drowsiness to overtake the ache in his leg, he kept glancing over at her asleep on the pillow next to him, her thick black hair spilling over the cotton like ink, her soft lashes splayed against her golden brown skin. He thought he could die happy after this.
But then, in the dead of night, everything changed.
Kaz awoke with a start, his heart pounding, when Inej screamed, terrified, pummeling at him with closed fists. He recognized the signs instantly; nightmares plagued his sleep regularly, too. He snatched at one of her wrists, trying to stop her from hitting him in the face.
“Inej! Inej!” His voice was hoarse from sleep. “Inej, it’s Kaz. It’s Kaz.”
Her eyes weren’t even open, and, as he tried to restrain her, she pulled one of her knives from under her pillow and leapt atop of him, straddling his torso with Sankta Elizabeta at his jugular in an instant.
“Inej,” he tried again, but his own voice was starting to shake.
She was slick in cold sweat, and her thighs now pressed on either side of his bare abdomen, wet flesh trapping him, pressing in on him. He was having trouble drawing a breath. Nausea churned in his stomach. He forgot all about the knife at his throat. What did it matter when the sea waves were crashing in over him, filling his mouth, his nose, his lungs…
Inej was blinking her eyes and dropped her weapon with a horrified cry.
But all he saw were her vacant eyes, purple bruising blooming from their rims, bloat rotting at her jaw. And he was drowning under her.
“Kaz! Kaz!” Inej took his face in her shaking hands, as if she could pull him back from the darkness that was overtaking him.
“Stop,” he tried to rasp, but it was barely audible. Her hands were a corpse’s, pulling him under.
Without thinking and desperate for breath, he grabbed her waist and threw her to the side. He spilled out of the bed, his stomach lurching. The nightstand rattled, and the washbasin shattered when it fell. Shards of ceramic scattered across the wood floor. He would have vomited all over it had it not been for the wastebasket. He managed to grab its edges just in time, hurling his stomach’s contents into it.
He retched so hard, tears spilled from his eyes and snot ran from his nose, but when he finally sat back, shaking and spent, Inej was there. She had put on his leather gloves before handing him a towel and a glass of water. His strong, level-headed Inej. When he could finally look at her again, her cheeks were tearstained. He could never admit defeat to such a shattered face.
“Fuck.” He released a ragged sigh as he sat back, running the back of a shaking hand along his lips. Inej sat across from him on the floor, still breathing hard from adrenaline. He needed that laugh of hers. He said the first thing that came to mind. “I’d actually really enjoyed that dinner.”
But Inej was too shaken, her brows cinched together, her raven black hair disheveled over the shoulders of the white nightshirt.
“I’m so, so sorry, Kaz.” Her voice was strained against the threat of tears.
“Are you ok?” He reached out of her gloved hands, and she took his fingertips with a little sob.
“This was a spectacular disaster,” Inej said. But Kaz squeezed her fingers, hoping she’d look at him. Needing the reassurance that this wasn’t the final straw. That they were still fighting their way out together.
“This was just good reconnaissance,” he objected, though his throat still burned. “We learned some valuable information tonight. We just need separate beds. How many fat, rich mercher families have you spied on that sleep in separate beds?”
“Those same merchers attack women in brothels, Kaz.” Inej wiped at her cheek with her spare hand, clutching at Kaz’s tightly with her other. “Maybe we just need a bigger bed,” she said with a sigh.
We. She’d said We. She hadn’t given up, hadn’t even considered it, and she’d said We. He’d buy her whatever bed she wanted after that. But The Slat was only big enough for Kaz’s narrow bed. And before he knew it, Kaz was meeting with contractors, looking over blueprints, hiring a foreman, haggling over the cost of materials, picking out new plumbing, new fixtures, and now his home had been stripped down to the studs.
The important thing was, when it was all finished, Kaz was buying the biggest, widest, most luxurious bed in all of Ketterdam, and it was going to fit, damnit.
“This is sending a message I don’t think you want to be sending, Kaz,” Jesper was saying, gesturing to the narrow mattress propped up against the wall.
“Which is what?” Kaz was growing impatient.
“That the Bastard of the Barrel sleeps like a weird little hobo,” said Jesper.
“Hobos don’t have offices to sleep in, Jes. That’s why they’re hobos.”
“Just check into a hotel like every other normal rich bastard,” Jesper begged. “You have the money. Why are you being so weird?”
Because Inej was coming back and what kind of message would that send to her? Meeting him a hotel. After what they had done in the chair the last time she was here. That implied all kinds of things he didn’t want her worrying about.
But if Pim and Anika had wrangled Jesper into confronting him, then maybe he was worrying about the wrong message.
And for all the chaos of the Van Eck Affair, he had enjoyed their stay at the Geldrenner Hotel. Their penthouse suite had been exceptional. It was further from the Crow Club than he would have liked, but the hot running water...and the room service. And Inej could have her pick of beds if she came by. No midnight vomiting would occur there.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” he said to Jesper, dismissively. Jesper gave a sigh of defeat and turned to leave.
“You’re too rich for this weird ass behavior,” he shouted at Kaz over his shoulder.
“No one wants your financial advice,” Kaz shouted back.
But Jesper turned back in the doorway, one hand on the frame.
“Oh,” he added, “you’re still coming for drinks on Saturday? Wylan needs a final headcount.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, every damn time. Yes, Jes. Yes. I’ll always be there.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go book a hotel room, obviously. Tell Roeder to throw out the mattress.”
“Can I give it to Wylan? That thing looks like it needs to be incinerated.”
Wylan could have the mattress for whatever flammable experiments he was working on in his free time. Kaz was already looking forward to another stay at the Geldrenner.
He took a long walk to the Geldrenner Hotel, where he was pleased to find the penthouse suite unoccupied and currently available. He left the reservation under K. Rietveld. Inej would know.
“What does the R stand for?” she’d asked him months and months ago. Nobody would believe they were both naked when she brought it up. In his defense, it had been Inej’s idea, this new leverage. She’d suggested they undress completely and not touch each other. She had wanted to conquer her fear of being naked with a man, and she thought it was something to be done in steps.
Did she think he would say no to such a thing? He’d literally had dreams about this.
Kaz was holding a box of waffles when she suggested it. He’d brought them in for their dinner, a dinner he mistakenly assumed they would be clothed for, and his first moronic thought was that he ought to have picked a less messy food. Once it finally registered what was about to happen, he set the box down and began to slip off his tie.
“What does the R stand for?”
She was sitting across from him, completely bare, with her long black hair veiling her breasts. He looked up from his dinner. He’d been trying his best to focus on the food, to will his cock into not getting any ideas. She was gesturing to the tattoo on his bicep.
“My real surname starts with R,” he replied.
“As in Rietveld, isn’t that right?” Inej flicked him a glance, one that could set a fire smoldering deep in his guts.
“You knew?” he wondered, and then drew in a breath as Inej began to stand to her feet, leaning across the table toward him. He could see everything, from her dark, protruding nipples beneath her long hair, the smooth planes of her flat stomach, the tight curve of her brown waist. The folds where it all met. His cock throbbed, rebelliously.
“I’m the Wraith, Kaz,” she said, her voice husky. “I’m glad you finally told me.”
“This is cheating,” Kaz pointed out, as she pecked his lips.
She had tasted like apple syrup. What would the rest of her taste like?
So, he wasn’t the least bit surprised when, three days later, he was returning to his suite at the Geldrenner at the end of the day and found Inej waiting on the windowsill. She was the Wraith, always and forever. Kaz quickly unlocked the window to pull her inside.
“Please tell me you haven’t been sitting out there all day,” was his greeting.
“I wanted to watch a Ketterdam sunset again, and I don’t fall, Kaz,” Inej said. She was as brown as a nut from her days in the sun, and her cheeks were a rosy apple red. “And no,” she added, “I haven’t been waiting long. You’re not at least a little be impressed that I found you?”
“My dearest Inej, I am in a constant state of awe around you.”
She looked up at him with a brilliant, toothy grin and big, soft brown eyes, and he wrapped his arms around her waist while he kissed her, pulling her close to his chest. She smelled like salt and sea spray, and he could taste the sweat on her lips and he didn’t care. It had been over a month since he’d held her, tasted her, and his body was falling in line with the terms of their deal. He wanted her, however he could have her.
“I missed you,” she told him, as she curled her head against his chest. He drew long, slow circles up and down her back with his fingertips so that she hummed softly in approval.
“I missed you,” he said into her hair.
“I can smell myself,” Inej lamented, with a disgusted groan.
“You smell perfect.” Kaz didn’t care.
“I need a bath.”
“I’ll draw you one.”
And Kaz ordered up room service, too, while Inej bathed in the tub, filling up the bathroom with steam and lavender. She was still soaking when the food arrived, an elaborate spread, since Kaz had ordered one of everything, not knowing what she wanted, and he nudged his head into the bathroom to let her know.
The bubbles had mostly dissolved, and the water pooled just under her breasts, her brown knees bent up out of the water. She’d pulled her long, clean hair out of the tub, letting it trail over the edge to dry, while she leaned against the side of the tub with her eyes closed.
Kaz suddenly understood the myths about mermaids luring men to their deaths.
“You can come in,” she said, a soft, relaxed smile on her lips.
Kaz still wasn’t sure what to say, but wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to look upon her. He leaned against the bathroom counter, trying not to ogle like a creep.
“This bathroom,” Inej remarked, looking all around them. Kaz drew in a deep breath. This bathroom, indeed. He’d kind of been avoiding it. This was where he’d first felt her skin, had tried to kiss her, and it had sent him reeling into nightmares of his past. He hadn’t thought of it as reconnaissance then. He had just been a boy, trying to be with the girl he liked, and instead only hopelessly embarrassing himself.
Inej seemed to sense how he withdrew at the memory and held out a soapy hand to him.
“Come here,” she said, tenderly. But Kaz hesitated. Wanting. Lusting. But knowing better.
“Wet skin is a non-starter for me,” he rasped, shifting uncomfortably.
“Of course it is.” Inej looked apologetic as she pulled her hand back. She shifted in the tub, pulling at the drain.
“Don’t get out on my account,” Kaz said.
“I need to be with you when you’re making that face,” Inej insisted, and she stepped out of the tub. He still couldn’t get enough of the sight of her wet body, glistening in the lamp light, beads of moisture running in rivulets down her rich golden legs as she toweled off.
“What face?” Kaz asked.
Inej wrapped the towel around herself, tucking it over her breasts, and stepped in front of him, resting her hands on his hips. She gave a playful tug at his belt.
“You get a look when you think something’s broken beyond repair,” she said, and looked up at him with her wide, adoring eyes. “And half the time, you prove yourself wrong within the next 24 hours anyway. I love to watch that part. But not the broken face. Broken face is heart-wrenching.”
Without armor. If he was to ever have her, to love her the way she deserved, she needed to see every ugly truth the armor hid. Every time he got close, that is what her lock demanded. Without armor. He swallowed hard as he rested his hands on the wet terrycloth on her hips, holding her close.
“I half-expected to die that night,” he confessed. How glad he was he hadn’t.
“I would never have let that happen.” Inej’s gaze was steely as flint, and he believed her. But there was something else.
“It would have been a relief,” he said, lowly.
Inej pulled back and held his dark gaze, as if to hold this new plate of armor with all the love she had.
“And now?” she asked, holding him tighter. He felt her intent in the pull of her embrace, the same intent he held in his chest in every battle against their demons. Stay with me. I can’t lose this.
“I was a kid then with nothing more to lose,” he told her, and let his forehead dip to touch hers. “But now I have everything.”
He could sense her smile even as he closed his eyes, reveling in her warmth and how it no longer called to his ghosts. But then she stepped back and turned, hoisting herself up onto the countertop, still holding her towel in place. Her hair spilled loose down her back as she reached to him, pulling him closer again between her knees, the same spot where they’d tried to get close those years ago and had each nearly keeled over from the other’s proximity.
“You know the best part about surviving, I’m sure,” she said, pulling him by his tie.
“Tell me,” he said with a crooked smile. He placed his hands on the counter either side of her hips, leaning in.
“When you survive, your story isn’t over,” said Inej, as she loosened the tie knot. She pulled it off through his collar and let it drop to the floor. “And sometimes, if you’re very lucky, you get the chance to write over parts you don’t like.”
She leaned back on her hands, extending her slender neck out ever so slightly with a pointed look in her eye. The smell of lavender and soap bubbles wafted from her clean hair, and Kaz drew in a breath. He would have to have been an idiot not to catch her meaning. Go on, she was saying. Write the story we wanted.
This time, when he pressed a soft kiss to her neck, he felt her soft pulse against his lips, her fresh scent all around him, and the desire coursing through his body. She gave a soft, contented sigh and slid her hands up his shoulders as he straightened his body to meet her lips again and again, rewriting and rewriting.  
“Better,” she whispered when he finally pulled back, and she brushed the tip of her nose against his. “Much better.”
His heart was pounding mercilessly in his chest, and when he reached up to cup her precious cheek in one hand, she leaned her head into his fingers, kissing his wrist, and it shattered him.
“I never want this to end,” he said, his voice husky. Much better, indeed.
“Then don’t stop,” Inej whispered, and he brought her lips back to his.
He could sense her urgency rising, the desperation with which she began to pull him to her body, to weave her fingers into his hair, and it would have been easy to break, to let her have her way with him again. But they had a deal. Kaz Brekker never made a deal he didn’t keep. So, this was no time to lose his head, to grab at everything he wanted. He’d been preparing for this moment. If he was going to make good and pay back what he owed, he was going to have to run this like breaking into Kerch bank vault.
She was already above him, propped up on the bathroom counter of her own volition. That was a good sign, good leverage. Inej did not like being prone with him or forced into anything, and no one could fault her for that.
He brought his hands to her face, running his fingertips from her cheeks to her hair as she sighed into his mouth. He felt her part her lips to him, felt the brush of her tongue, and, emboldened, he ran his hands down her bare shoulders, her skin prickling in goosebumps.
“I love what your hands can do,” she shivered. She was pulling at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest where he felt as hot as a furnace against her cool hands. Let her have some control; she thrived with it. She slipped her hands into his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders until it dropped to the tile below.
He held her waist in his hands as she clutched at his shoulders, her thighs tightening on his hips as their kiss deepened. It took every ounce of restraint Kaz had to not taste every inch of her mouth, not pull at the rest of his clothing and beg her to just fuck him already please. There was nothing but a towel separating her bare breasts from his skin, and, Saint fucking hell, he wanted this. He wanted her. Her exposed thighs felt like silk against his sides, and he could only imagine what the rest of her felt like. His hands dipped a little lower, exploring the slope of her ass.
“More,” Inej panted, and Kaz couldn’t hold back a groan. He gave her ass a little squeeze, and she chuckled against his mouth. Running his hands along the underside of her thighs, he pulled her closer, letting her hook her legs around him. Heat from her cunt radiated across his lower abdomen.
“Saints, Inej,” he rasped, breathless. His slacks were uncomfortably tight, and she had to notice. When she pulled back, he was sure she had and braced himself, but there was no look of terror in her eyes this time. No, she had something else in mind.
She held up one hand and, slowly, sucked on two of her fingers. And then, with Kaz’s jaw slack in lust and awe, she slipped her hand between her legs, beneath the towel. And with her eyes on him, she began to knead.
Kaz hardly dared to breathe. He’d imagined, but he’d never seen… he’d researched for advice, like any decent con artist, but he’d only hoped…
He watched the rise and fall of the tops of her breasts in rapture, waiting for any sign that he could approach without setting off alarms. When she let out a little moan and put a hand to his chest again, he gently leaned in, taking her lips once more. He tried to put as much love and admiration and passion into that kiss as he could muster, slowly slipping his hands back to the lithe curve of her waist.
Her breathing deepened as she worked herself, and she moaned softly, her eyes falling shut. Kaz ran his fingers lightly up and down her arm, knowing what he wanted, trying to work out a strategy.
It had to be like picking a pocket. Replacing a wallet with an exact weight, so quick, no one noticed.
He kissed her ear as her head fell to the side, and then, slowly, traced the silky soft length of her arm, slipping under the towel, before gently curling his fingers over hers. She stopped the movement, but didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t running.
He paused, too, breathing heavily in spite of himself. She was wet, practically soaked, against their fingers, and, for a brief moment, he felt the lapping of water at his ankles. He fixed his eyes on the pulse in her neck. He focused on the sound of her breath, the labored breathing of her desire. He inhaled the soap and the lavender scent of her. She was alive. So very alive. And after a moment, the dread passed, and he was still there and so was she, and his longing for her hadn’t diminished.
“Show me,” he whispered against her ear, and she leaned her head against his.
He traced the movements of her fingers, delicate, like picking a lock in the dark, slow circles around her tender nub of skin.
“Kaz,” she whispered, in a tone he was sure he’d never heard before. Lock tumblers clicking into place.
He moved his fingers as she did, through the velvety skin of her folds, until her hand dropped away from his, her eyes still closed as she bit her lip.
“I’ve wanted this,” she confessed with a groan. Kaz was out of words. Locks didn’t usually talk back, and they were never this gorgeous.
And then when she leaned back further on the counter, the towel began to slip and she did nothing to stop it. It fell away behind her, leaving every bit of her exposed to him, the full swell of her breasts and the tense muscles of her core, and Kaz didn’t mean to, but he swore out loud.
“Don’t stop,” she begged him, her arms starting to shake as she leaned back against them. “Please, Kaz, more.”
His mind was a scramble of every touch he’d ever given, every encouraging sign she’d ever given him. More what? Where to start? With his spare hand, he traced her neck again, down her sternum between her breasts, watching the line of goosebumps spring along her skin.
“With your mouth,” she gasped, and he sprang at the chance to oblige. She quivered while he trailed a line of kisses from her neck down her chest, and, growing bolder, took one dark nipple tenderly in his mouth. When she didn’t object, he ran his tongue around its rim, tasting its foreign sweetness and feeling her gasps of pleasure swell through her chest.
She raked her fingers through his hair as he felt her breathing grow haggard beneath his lips, and her hips bucked restlessly against his long fingers. He had a moment of nerves that she was growing frustrated with his inexperience, and, with a silent prayer, he slipped a digit inside of her.
She let out an audible sigh, clenching at his hair, and he knew he’d hit the right combination. As soft as before, he stroked her ridges along her cunt, still carding his thumb through her folds as she had.
Her arms gave out altogether, and he found himself standing over her as she laid back on the countertop, her hair spilling into the sink, a flush spreading across her breasts. Her body arched; her pussy felt as taut as a bowstring. He’d never seen anything so glorious in his life.
Curses fell from her beautiful lips when she came, head tilted back as a shudder overtook her whole body, spasming on his fingers. She gripped his forearm to steady herself, leaving half-moon nail marks in his skin. And then she stilled, naked, spent and breathing hard, feet on the counter with her knees bent in the air.
Kaz leaned over and kissed her forehead while she gave a breathless hum of satisfaction.
“This bathroom,” she remarked again, heaving an exhausted sigh. Her cheeks were rosy as she smiled brightly up at him. Kaz grinned, crookedly, a victorious lockpick’s smile.
“This bathroom,” he agreed.
Much, much better.
Next work in this series: These Damn Crosswinds
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dark-kronis · 7 years
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Elemental patience saint pim
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waladri-blog · 7 years
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Melbourne et Sydney
Nous voila arrivés à Melbourne, 2eme ville du pays, connue pour son street art et sa douceur de vivre. Notre Airbnb est bien situé, au 24eme étage d'un gratte ciel tout vitré du Central business district, avec piscine, salle de sport et sauna au 2eme étage. Quel plaisir de retrouver une salle de bain à soi et un lit king size! (Enfin, pour nous, car le bon Casp a gardé les bonnes habitudes avec son "immense" matelas gonflable 1 place ;)) La ville est coupée en deux par un fleuve ce qui nous permet de flâner gentiment sur les quais complètement piétons jusqu'au Botanic Garden. Le centre ville est lui aussi très animé avec de nombreux galeries commerçantes datant du debut du XXeme siecle. La température monte (ce qui nous change un peu;p) mais heureusement Melbourne regorge de bars en plein air où nous sirotons des bières et des Pim's (consommés ici à partir de 15h, ils commencent l'apéro un peu tôt les australiens ;)), le fameux cocktail rafraîchissant rempli de morceau de fruits frais, à la mode dans les courses hippiques britanniques. Difficile de se dire que Noël approche sous cette chaleur! Le 24 décembre, nous décidons d'aller faire quelques emplettes dans les anciennes halles de Melbourne où se tient un marché gigantesque tous les jours. Crevettes, huîtres, noix de saint Jacques, fromages, petites pâtisseries à la française, sparkling, vin blanc et de quoi faire un risotto; nous sommes parés pour le reveillon de Noël ! On a même fini par trouver du foie gras!!! C'est avec toutes ces bonnes choses que Casp nous a préparé un vrai petit festin! Les "talents créatifs" de Walfroy et son retour brutal en grande section de maternelle, nous ont même permis de mettre nos cadeaux autour d'un magnifique, incroyable, grandiose, amazing!!!!!.... sapin de Noël en carton ;) (franchEUment il est beau hein!!) Le lendemain on décide de faire comme beaucoup de Melbourniens, on va fêter Noël à la plage de St Kilda! Petit cadeau supplémentaire : le petit coucou des dauphins lorsque l'on pose nos serviettes sur le sable (encore.... ;p) Lorsque l'on voit débarquer des centaines de jeunes (et ouais on est vieux du coup la) avec des caddies remplis de bières et d'enceintes, on comprend qu'on est bien loin de la fête familiale, c'est plutôt ambiance spring breaker! La chaleur est étouffante et le soleil brûle! C'est la première fois qu'on a des coups de soleil à Noël (et avec patience et détermination Adri a fini par obtenir une couleur pourpre de toute beauté qui lui sied à ravir ;)) Le lendemain on décolle pour Sydney! Notre Airbnb est situé à Potts Point, petit quartier résidentiel plein de resto sympas et bobo (et en tant que critiques culinaires intraitables, on a été obligé de tous les tester forcément...). Notre studio est plutôt mignon mais s'avère être un véritable four! Pas de clim et au moins 35 degré dehors! Ça s'annonce bien! On part très vite à l'assaut de la ville et on tombe sous le charme de cette mégalopole tournée sur la baie! L'Opera, l'Harbour Bridge, the Rocks, on y est!!! Le climat à lui aussi changé, l'air est plus humide, la végétation plus tropicale, le Botanic garden que nous traversons presque tous les jours pour se balader est d'ailleurs magnifique. La ville a su allier modernité et tradition en gardant plusieurs beaux monuments victoriens qui se superposent aux gratte ciel. On sillonne la ville toute la journée en parcourant les différents quartiers souvent regroupés autour de petites baies dans la baie. Le fameux aquarium, des galeries d'art aborigène, le musée d'art contemporain; tout y passe! Mention spéciale au musée de la marine qui aura assouvi bien des fantasmes en pénétrant dans un sous marin, un navire de guerre et un vieux gréement! (Des étoiles dans les yeux, qu'ils avaient ;)) Passage obligé à la plage de Bondi le jour le plus chaud. Le ciel est voilé mais les petites éclaircies donnent un bon aperçu de ce que ça doit être en plein soleil : une grande plage de sable fin avec des aires réservées aux surf et à la baignade, des gens qui courent et qui font de la muscu, on sent qu'on est là pour être vus! Petite balade le long de la côte qui permet de découvrir de jolies baies avec des plages un peu moins bondées. Puis vient le 31 Décembre! D'un commun accord, on s'était dit que quitte à fêter le nouvel an à Sydney, autant faire les choses en grand! Du coup craquage, on s'est donc fait bien plaisir en ayant réservé plusieurs semaines à l'avance une soirée sous l'harbour bridge avec vue sur les feux d'artifices, boisson et nourriture à volonté (on a peut être un peu abusé du sparkling local ;))! Mais entre le drame engendré par la tenue qu'il allait falloir porter ("les meufs vont être en tenue de gala j'vous dis, ma robe est nulle!!!"), les multiples interrogations suscitées par l'orientation exacte du lieu et l'ambiance probable imaginée de cette soirée ("il n'y a que 17 inscrits sur l'event Facebook, ça craint non?!"); on y est presqu'allé à reculons! Heureusement dés notre arrivée on a compris que la soirée allait être géniale! L'emplacement était juste parfait, plein de bonnes choses à grignoter, sparkling et cocktails à volonté et dance floor avec vue sur le pont, c'était juste magique! Les feux d'artifices méritent leur réputation, on n'en avait jamais vu d'aussi beaux!!! Bref, une soirée de nouvel an en grand qu'on ne refera pas tous les jours, il ne manquait que vous :)! Mais déjà notre voyage en australie se termine (ca passe beaucoup trop vite...) et le bon Casp est reparti dans le froid . Il faudra qu'on revienne, il nous reste encore beaucoup d'autres régions à voir. Mais en attendant changement de décor, on decolle pour la nouvelle zelande : première étape chrischurch sur l'île sud. On vous embrasse.
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