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moonstruck-poet · 11 months

Text

His Love Language

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader!

Summary - This fic depicts Kaz and the subtle ways in which he shows his love.

Warnings - curse words, injury, wounds, blood, fight.

Kaz Brekker noticed everything. Whether it be someone cheating in a game of cards, enemies tailing him during his walk, or even his crows being unlike their usual selves.

Because he always paid more attention to what a person is doing than what they're saying. Talk may thrill, but action reveals.

He had an eye for taking in the details. It was both terrifying and beautiful.

Terrifying for his rivals of course. He knew exactly what to pull off and how to pull it off for them to go insane.

And beautiful for his love, his one and only. Him having such a knack for remembering the littlest of things helped him immensely in his relationship with you.

Not many people noticed it before, not even you yourself. But as time passed, you learned that his love language were actions. Not physical touches, words of affirmations, gifts and presents. No.

But it was all about those small acts showcased by him that made you fall deeper for the bastard of the barrel. Your heart now always took notice whenever he did the most mundane things for you. It immediately took up its pace and reminded you of the exact reason why it still kept on beating.

Your fellow crows took a hell of time to gather just how deep the love of Kaz Brekker was. But once they did, saints were they both shocked and ecstatic.

All of them had their own doubts when they came to know of your relationship. Nobody was a stranger to the fact that both of you were extremely closed off people. Not opening more than what was necessary, and in the case of Kaz, not opening up at all.

But one look at the way you two understood each other without even having to express, made them believe that you two would make each other happy.

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Dirtyhands had struck another deal with a man named Arken Viking. The plan seemed quite simple, understandable even when it was explained.

And naturally everybody was feeling good knowing that they had a hundred percent chance of survival as it wasn't a difficult mission by any means. It just had a lot of steps that needed to be followed and so all seven of them were heavily involved.

Jesper, Wylan, Kaz and Matthias were waiting for the other girls to arrive. It was the final task of the day and they would then carry on again tomorrow.

Jesper was the one to pace around, unable to sit still in one place. He hated waiting more than anything else. Ask him to put up some money for a gamble? It would be done without wasting a second. Task him with shooting something impossibly far away? He'd have it completed before you could say shoot. But staying put in one place, he couldn't do it.

It was only for Wylan engaging with him that he even sat for ten minutes.

"Where did they go?" He grumbled and finally got up, stretching his legs and walking to stand near the two men who stared ahead, their expressions tight.

"They're late," Matthias muttered, trying his best to hide the worry he felt for a specific one but it was useless, all of them knew about his feelings but him.

"It'll be fine, they'll be here soon," Wylan said, standing next to Jesper and blushing very slightly when the tall boy leaned his shoulder against his and let out a sigh.

"You're sure that there's no danger right, Kaz?" Jesper asked and looked at his boss who didn't look away. His eyes firmly set on the road in front of them.

"Yes," he spoke, sure of himself. But there was this slight, very tiny nagging in the back of his mind that something had gone terribly wrong and he clenched his jaw.

But all of their worries dissipated at seeing the silhouette of three women walking towards them.

Matthias let out a sigh of relief once he saw Nina's bright face, him sending a quick prayer to Djel for looking over the three.

Kaz felt himself lighten instantly, his previously tensed posture relaxed as he saw you looking positively unscathed. His eyes found yours instantly and you sent him a smile, while quickly closing the distance between you two.

"You're late," was all he said, his eyes sweeping over everyone before landing on your figure which was leaning against the wall, right next to him.

"Let us live a little, Brekker," Nina rolled her eyes while Inej shook her head, though she too smirked.

"We were worried," Wylan was the one to speak that was on the tip of everybody's tongue.

"All of you?" She said with a raised eyebrow, looking pointedly at Kaz who merely glared at her sharply.

"Obviously!" Jesper exclaimed. "Now that you're all here, we can finally get some well deserved rest. Kaz let's take a room somewhere, yeah?"

"We can't," he said, turning his eyes away from you, rather unwillingly actually.

"What do you mean we can't?"

"Use your eyes, Jes," Inej said with a teasing smile. "Do you see any shops, hotels or anything nearby?"

"Then where the hell are we sleeping?" Nina said with a incredulous look. "I am not going to lie down in the middle of the street!"

Jesper too looked alarmed at the prospect and whipped his head around to stare at their leader.

"You think I'd let everyone sleep on the roads?"

"Can't put anything past you at this point," she grumbled and you laughed making Kaz give you a disbelieving expression.

"There's a warehouse ten minutes from here, we'll stay there for the night".

All of them groaned loudly at the thought of walking once again but soon started their small journey. And once they had reached the place, Jesper quite literally threw open the doors and scanned the area.

"Clean enough," he shrugged and laid the small blankets they had brought onto the floor. "Good night then," he waved lazily and Wylan followed his lead but not before gazing fondly at him for a few seconds.

"You failed to mention this in you plan, Kaz," Nina shot him a look and dragged her belongings to the corner of the room, accompanied by Inej and Matthias.

"Let's sleep, shall we?" You said softly and he nodded, taking off his coat while you arranged the sheets and removed your shoes, sighing at finally being able to rest.

He laid down himself, his body close to yours so your arms brushed a little. "You're okay, aren't you?"

"I'm all good," you turned your head to face him, taking in his features that you so loved. From his dark brown eyes that softened at your reply to his hands placed in front of him, the pale skin shining under the minimum lighting present.

He gave a curt nod and scanned your face once before closing his eyes, depriving himself of your addictive beauty.

"Night," you whispered and turned on your side, one hand under your head for support and the other lying in front. He didn't reply but instead reach ahead to brush his thumb against your forearm and interlocking your little fingers together.

You smiled, him being the last thought in your mind before sleep overtook you.

The rest of the night passed in peace before it was time for the sunrise. Naturally Kaz, Inej and Matthias were the first ones to wake. The rest were all sleeping soundly and soft breaths echoed in the room.

Kaz was looking over the layout of the building once again, making sure that everything would go on without any problems or worries when suddenly your knee brushed against his.

He stiffened at the contact for a second before turning around to see you pulling your legs up to your chest and curling into a ball. He immediately spotted the goosebumps that littered your arms and an unnoticeable shiver pass through you.

His eyes searched for a spare blanket somewhere but found none as all were used as mattresses for everybody to lay on. A small frown marked his lips as his mind raced and landed on a conclusion.

He took his coat that he had used as a pillow and dusted it before gently putting it over your body. Your curled figure made it easier and he adjusted it, making sure the warm jacket covered you completely.

You involuntarily grabbed the collar, your eyes still shut and cuddled into it.

While he felt himself ease up with satisfaction and he shot you one last look, unable to keep the fondness away from his gaze and returned to check the papers.

Matthias who had been watching the unspoken exchange felt his insides warming up at seeing the cold and distant demeanour of Kaz Brekker melting a little for you.

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Predictably, the heist was successful and no one had expected anything less. In fact, it had gone a little more than satisfactory. They had no troubles waiting for them inside the building and no distractions outside too.

So to conclude, everybody was high on the fact that they had managed to pull it off with such stealth.

They were all given their paychecks when they returned back home.

"Saints," Jesper sighed and lovingly twirled the kruge in his fingers while Wylan unknown to anyone else but you shot tiny daggers at those pieces of money.

You hid your smirk, keeping the check in your pocket and walked over to your friend, "I understand, Wy," you patted his shoulder sympathetically while he became red.

"What do you understand?" He asked hurriedly and avoided eye contact.

"Oh come on," you chuckled. "I know about your not so little feelings. You fancy him, don't you?"

"No I don't," he mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe just a little," he added as an afterthought.

You just brought him in a comforting side hug, quite endeared by the boy and ruffled his already wild hair. "I hate to say it, but he's more oblivious than anyone".

"I know," he groaned in exasperation, resting his head on your shoulder as you were considerably taller than him.

"Planning to steal her from Brekker?" Nina's playful words broke their conversation making the others laugh.

"Who's stealing what from me?" The man himself entered, as usual being perfect in his timing of showing up at the most unnecessary of times.

Wylan immediately removed your arm from his shoulder but Kaz being himself obviously glimpsed it. His expression did not betray anything, it was carefully kept stoic and calm. But he couldn't fool you, there was a reason why he'd let you walk fearlessly into his locked up heart.

His eyes seemed sullen for just a fraction of second. He wasn't reacting on the joke, of course not. He was now used to the crows trying to make him jealous. But rather the thing that had made him feel lost, was touch.

His inability to provide you with every bit of himself was killing him inside. For heaven's sake he couldn't even bear to embrace you without feeling as though he were on the edge and one small step would make him fall deeper into the oceans.

He swallowed and averted his gaze making you stare at him even more, trying to figure out what was bothering him.

You got up from your place and went over to sit in a chair beside him, keeping the distance because you weren't sure if he was okay with the proximity or not. But then he himself shifted his chair, and your legs brushed making him pull away quickly.

"Kaz," you said worriedly, moving back a little. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied and you frowned. He knew very well that you could tell he was being untruthful.

He willed his mind to focus on you rather than his surroundings and took your hand in his, taking a deep breath despite the barrier of his glove.

But it wasn't enough, he felt the strange need to be even closer to you despite his brain screaming in denial. And for the second time in his life, he decided to go with his heart and looked you in the eyes, noticing your evident concern as you approached him cautiously.

He gave his surroundings a quick scan. It was only the seven of them and they were all minding their own business. He made a split decision and started taking the glove off of his right hand.

You didn't say anything, finally understanding that he needed your touch and you were more than happy to provide.

He stopped in his tracks after pulling it off, staring at his pale, vulnerable hand.

"It's okay," you whispered softly, fighting the urge to lean over yourself. "I'm here. It's just you and me. You can do this".

He looked unsure but slowly extended it towards you. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before, he had, but it had been quite a long time ago.

He gently brushed his fingertips over your palm and relaxed when no waters rose. He nudged his little finger with yours and looked up to see you before locking them.

Your face held a small, adoring smile. It was so simple, yet so complex. You squeezed gently once and he returned it instantly making you laugh softly.

He felt strange in a good way, as if he had accomplished everything he wanted when he had only heard the sound of your laughter.

"Okay you two stop your gossiping, it's dinner time," Jesper broke the moment and was rewarded with a threatening glare. He just grinned in return when his eyes fell on a hand, Kaz's hand to be specific and his mouth hung open slightly.

"Never seen a hand before?" Kaz raised an eyebrow and swiftly pulled on the glove.

He looked away, his mind still trying to figure it out as he grabbed the plates.

You stood up from your seat much to Kaz's displeasure who shot a heartbroken look your way that you missed. But Jesper caught on as he was sitting right opposite.

He'd never thought that he would live to see the day when Dirtyhands would look sad like a lovesick puppy. He was debating with himself whether he even saw it happening because the look was gone in less than a second, replaced by his usual dark gaze.

But he was cut off from his thoughts when you smiled at him, keeping a plate of food on the table. "Enjoy".

"Yeah, 'course love".

All of them were now sitting at the table for the first time in months. They just never seemed to have a time fixed that would match everyone's schedule. And for most part, they were all lazy as well.

You were sitting at the corner of the table with Nina at the opposite side, her having every bit of your attention at the moment as she chatted away happily much to the disappointment of the man sitting to your right.

"The cake is great, Nina," Inej complimented her and she gave her a wink in return.

"It is nice," Matthias agreed making the said chef blush despite her smirk.

"Yeah I love it," Wylan smiled brightly.

"Oh damn," you winced as the spoon fell down with a loud clatter, breaking the conversation for a bit before it resumed again.

Inej watched you with amusement, laughing at your resigned expression when you bent down to retrieve it with a sigh. But then her eyes widened in surprise.

Kaz Brekker, the most ruthless man she'd ever met was maybe not that uncaring. She merely watched as his hand went to cover the sharp corner of the table as if it was an everyday occurence.

And you got up, putting the spoon away to take a new one when you stopped mid-action to see a gloved hand had been placed inches above your head that would have definitely rubbed against the edge.

At the moment all that existed for you was the person sitting right next to you. You stared at him blankly, planting holes on the side of his face.

He, sensing it turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as though to ask, 'What?'

But you just shook your head and offered him a small smile and you swore you saw his lip twitch slightly.

===============================

"Ready Inej?" You asked, as softly as you could muster though you were shaking inside, knowing that you two only had one shot at this.

"All ready," she whisperer back and crouched down slightly, preparing to jump.

A gunshot was heard and the guard was successfully distracted by the sound giving Inej some time to slip in between the shadows and enter the room.

You had no choice than to shoot a bullet and now they were all alarmed which would make escaping very difficult.

Your eyes squinted in the darkness as you surveyed the room, hoping no one caught a glimpse of you and praying to whichever Saint there was for Inej to finish her job.

"Come on," you muttered to yourself, your legs shaking with anticipation as it had easily been ten minutes since she had disappeared. "Where the hell are you?"

Just then you spotted some movement going on further to your left and loaded your gun while also keeping one hand on the scabbard tied around your waist. Your footsteps were barely heard as they travelled softly on the wooden floor.

Someone had definitely seen you and were on a hunt, all you could do was make sure to stay hidden perfectly. The darkness was surely an ally but an enemy too.

A loud thud was the only warning you had before someone knocked the air out of your lungs making you skid backwards. You gasped, hands pressed to your chest while taking in deep breaths and moving away from the man, buying yourself time. It didn't feel like your ribs had broken but it hurt nonetheless.

You wracked your brain for a sign of another presence but it was only him. "Viking," you growled in anger after he stepped into the light. "I should've known".

He simply chuckled darkly, "You didn't though. Even Brekker failed. So I think I did my work to perfection, yeah?"

"Who else have you got?"

"No one!" He said, sounding strangely happy and you believed him to be a psychopath. "But the same can't be said for you, am I right?"

But you just shrugged, knowing if you spoke he'd be able to distinguish because of your voice. You should think about asking Kaz to teach you how he managed to always control his tone perfectly. But that would only be possible if you got out of here alive.

Not saying another word you charged, knowing using a gun would prove to be dangerous for you if he snatched it from you. Unfortunately, one of your downfalls was thag you didn't have much of a strong grip. And so you took two knifes and attacked him from both sides.

He took on a few cuts, some going deep and you were scarred too. A small one painted your cheekbone, one on the side of your neck and some on your arms.

You fought for quite a time, both being bloody with sweat dripping off your bodies. It was only when you pretended to hit him from your left and he fell for the basic trick, blocking your attack and in turn giving you easy access to wedge your knife straight into his abdomen. You shot him too for safety measures and double checking.

"Motherfucker," you heaved a sigh, wincing after feeling the burn of the cuts littering you and the stickiness of blood. "Fucking finally!" You exclaimed when your friend came into view, panting slightly and you knew she had gotten into a fight as well.

"Atleast we're matching," she said with a smile and pointed at the similar scars on your forearms.

"Yeah sure," you laughed and quickly moved out, not wanting to personally invite trouble.

The journey back the the Slat was a peaceful one, as it always was with Inej. You talked about Arken's betrayal, the documents she'd found and copied and some amounts of kruge that was just lying on the desk.

"Well despite everything, atleast we got it done," you grimaced slightly and opened the door, immediately walking over to the bar to get yourself a shot atleast. You needed the liquor desperately.

"Oh you're h- Saints!" Wylan sputtered, taking in the bloody sight when you turned. "You're drinking whiskey?!"

"Wy," you said, trying to explain before you faced his wrath. "I needed it".

"Like hell you did," he shook his head and called Nina so urgently that anyone would think you were dying.

"Don't- Wylan-" you cut yourself off after seeing his glare.

"Calm your potions, she's not dying" Nina Zenik said after one glance at your figure lounging in the chair.

"But she's injured!"

"Injury and death don't mean the same thing! And she looks alright to me except for a few cuts. Oh you and Inej have matching tattoos now," she said with a laugh.

"Jesper!" You summoned your gunslinger and he appeared right before you. "Take your man away or I'm going to actually die".

The boy got out of his haze of sering you all bruised and bloodied up before smirking a little and throwing a wink. He took hold of Wylan's arm and dragged his away.

"Matthias get me some bandages would you?" Nina asked as she healed the cuts and Matthias who had finished dressing Inej's arm walked over to you.

"Ouch woman!" You groaned and threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

"It's the size of a paper cut! You don't shout this much when you have a literal bullet in your shoulder".

"They hurt more".

She rolled her eyes though a smile was present on her face as she cleaned the blood from your neck and healed the long cut there.

"Where's Kaz?" You asked, not wanting to admit that you had missed him and wanted to be in his presence.

"He's out somewhere, probably finding another deal," Matthias sighed and bandaged your palm.

After some time you were all healed though the scars were as clear as day. You didn't mind them at all because you were convinced they made you look even more terrifying and beautiful.

"You all okay?" You questioned Inej who was sharpening her collection of knives.

"I always am," she smiled and took your knife to sharpen making you give her a grateful look.

It was now almost past eleven at night and you were sitting on the bed in Kaz's room waiting for him. You wanted to see him, had longed for him after being away for almost an entire day.

And the Saints did answer your plea albeit a while later. You heard the familiar tap of his cane and heavy footsteps as he climbed the staircase and opened the door. His eyes sharp but relaxing upon seeing you.

"Mission went well?" He asked and took off his coat and hat while walking towards you and slumping down on the bed.

"Yes, though Arken's betrayal was a great bit of surprise," you said and sat up, unconsciously putting weight on your elbows and arms in doing so and hissing hissing angrily, clutching your sore muscles.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately but when you didn't answer, he got up to turn on the lights and saw your scrunched up face.

And one by one he took notice of the bruises that were turning black and blue, bandages being wrapped around your palm and bicep and a thin but prominent scar on your neck. He swallowed the unfamiliar restlessness, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and kill the man who had injured you so badly.

"You're hurt," he stated as though you weren't aware of it and closed the distance, sitting as close to you as possible. "You're hurt," he repeated, his eyes flicking from every part of you back to your eyes.

"I was, I'm okay now".

"Who?" He all but spat out, his insides burning with hatred.

"Arken. But I killed him, don't worry".

He eased a little and removed his gloves, cautiously reaching forward to hold your bandaged palm in both of his hands. His breath hitched at the coldness and you made a move to pull away but his grip tightened and he shook his head firmly.

Slowly but surely he relaxed again, feeling comfortable as he unknowingly cradled your hand with such gentleness that you closed your eyes. His fingers traced the edge of the white material, rubbing slow circles.

He suddenly looked up and your breath got caught in your throat at the sheer proximity between you two. You were so close that you could feel the air he heavily exhaled and a faint blush was quick to rise on your cheeks. His dark brown irises staring intently into yours with a flame of possessiveness.

His eyes dipped down to your lips before moving to the scar on your cheekbone and his eyebrows furrowed just a tiny bit. He raised his hand once again, he had only done it once before and the feeling was a huge rival to drowning.

His jaw tightened when the tip of his index finger touched your jaw as softly as a feather. Despite wanting to stay still, you couldn't help it and leaned into his hand, conveying the message that you needed more.

He understood and gritted his teeth, carefully sliding his palm upwards to cup your cheek. His chest expanded as he released the pent up frustration.

This feeling, it was a rival to heaven.

Now that he had touched your skin, he craved more. His thumb softly caressed the scar like it may disappear under his brush. The finger moved at a leisurely pace, soaking in the beautiful feeling for as long as he could hold on.

You couldn't bring yourself to talk after witnessing the tenderness that oozed from his touches and caresses. It was like nothing you had experienced before. The moment felt so precious and for good reason.

You smiled at him, your eyes displaying the immense love that your heart held only for him and also silently thanked him.

He noticed. Of course he did.

And he offered you a gorgeous smile of his own. His lips stretching though not too wide but it was perfect for you and you fell for him yet again.

You found home in his smile and he saw love in your eyes.

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twola · 11 months

Text

I’m back! After a road trip and some time off, here’s another little smut piece for you. I am also still working on requests, if you have one in!

Cleanliness and Godliness

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

One can’t write Arthur smut without using the overdone bathtub trope.

taglist: @pinkiemme

“Jesus Christ, Arthur.” You look at him with a pained expression - and he sheepishly stands in front of you in the alley - covered in mud, blood, and god knows what else.

The sweet smells and sights of Valentine after market day, of course. The sun had begun to set over the peaks of West Elizabeth in the distance.

“Ain’t me who started it.” The outlaw grumbles, taking his worn leather hat from his head and shaking flakes of drying mud off of it before slapping it back onto his head.

You cringe in disgust, seeing that he did not do a thorough job of cleaning the hat.

“C’mon. Let's get you a bath over at Saints.” You sigh, hitching up your skirts as you walk past him into the muddy street, stepping toward the one hotel in this cowtown the gang has stumbled into.

“Woman-”

“No. Don’t you woman me, Mister Morgan.” You turn around, dropping one side of your skirt and pointing at him with your finger, “You’re covered in horse shit. Take a damn bath. I don’t want you anywhere near me til you do.”

The man frowns, and you cross your arms over your chest with a loud humph. There’s even mud in his beard - his hair, everywhere.

“You go take a bath and I’ll get us a room tonight. How’s that for a proposition?” You say, tapping on the ground impatiently with your foot.

A smile starts to appear on his dirty face.

“A room, y’say?” He steps closer to you, at which you very quickly pedal backward before he can grab you.

“After,” you raise and lower your finger at his frame, “You go and clean yourself up. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You smile as you turn and gather your skirts from the muddy street and make your way to the hotel.

Arthur was a man of the outdoors. Riding and sleeping under the stars. Civilization be damned.

But he was not going to complain about how good this bath felt, water steaming hot, his muscles relaxing after a fight, his weary bones finally at rest.

He ran his bruised knuckles through the hot water, wincing slightly as the water burns a small spot of broken skin. Arthur was able to steal a glimpse of his face before stepping into the tub - his three-day-old beard was unable to hide the darkening bruise along his jaw.

The bastard got lucky with a swing, that was all.

The latch of the door slowly unlocks, and Arthur sits up in the bath, torn from his thoughts.

“Y’need some help in there?” A soft voice calls through the crack in the door.

He smiles, reclining again.

“Hmm, maybe.”

The door opens and a female figure slides in. You stand there with a playful smile on your face as Arthur greets you with one of his own.

“I don’t remember payin’ no wash girl.” Arthur drawls, turning his head toward you, a lazy, relaxed smile on his face as he leans back in the tub.

You close the door behind you quietly.

“On the house, Mister.” You smile at him as you start to unbutton your blouse, “Want me to give you the whole experience?”

Arthur raises his eyebrow, nodding dumbly as he sits up in the tub. You smile back at him, heart warmed, as you step closer to the tub.

Buttons thread through eyelets in the steamy room as your skin is bared to him, stripping your blouse and dropping it to the floor. Your chemise leaves little of your chest to the imagination, gauzy in the candlelight. The drapes on the windows are partially drawn, leaving the room in a dim hush.

“You sure are handsome, mister.” You laugh as you sit on the rim of the large iron tub, one of your hands landing on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. Your thumb works in a circle over his shoulder blade and he hums in appreciation.

“Then you must get some ugly fellers comin’ in here.”

You frown lightly before reaching down into the water and checking its temperature.

“Lemme get you cleaned up.”

You gather suds in your hand and stand up, leaning over the tub and him to reach his arm on the opposite side of you. Rubbing gently at his skin, you snicker to yourself as you notice where his gaze has settled: directly in front of him, where your chemise top hangs low and your breasts sway gently with your movements.

Arthur’s hand raises from the water, his fingers grasping at the lace trim of your chemise and slowly pulling it down as you lean over him, your breath stuttering slightly as the fabric brushes over your nipples before he frees one breast to the open air, only inches from his face.

You’ve stopped bathing him, your hand bracing yourself on the side of the tub as you lean over it, gooseflesh breaking out over your skin, even with the warmth of the steaming water beneath you.

Arthur looks up at you, for one moment, his fingers still on your chemise, wetness spreading out over the cotton and lace.

You’re throbbing between your thighs, wanting to lean further and press your sensitive nipple to his mouth - your breathing getting faster as he pulls at the neckline again, your other breast freed from the fabric.

He leans forward and blessedly takes one of your hardening, pebbled nipples into his mouth and sucks it with a gentle pull from his lips. His hand moves to the other breast, kneading it slowly alongside his slow suckles.

You cannot help but to whine aloud as you feel his tongue lave around your peaked skin, his rough and calloused fingers enclosing on the opposite one, gently squeezing to replicate the pressure of his mouth on your skin.

The water in the tub sloshes as he sits up further, pressing his face into your breasts even more as his other hand begins to work himself under the surface. You moan aloud as you steal a look over your shoulder, the soap-covered surface of the water breaking and you can see his hand stroking up and down his hardening length.

Your bloomers are damp as the fabric clings to your skin, the hand closest to you moving to press your fingers against yourself through layers of fabric, moaning needily aloud as Arthur sucks hard on your breast.

He’s panting underneath you, pulling away from your breast as his eyes trace your arm down to where you press against yourself fervently.

“Christ - get in here before I pull you in -” he rumbles out as he yanks your chemise up from your skirt, untucking it as you pull away and stand next to the tub. You quickly shuck it from your frame, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor as Arthur gazed upon your chest, your nipple damp and shiny with his saliva as you begin to untie your skirts.

You look up from untying your skirts to see Arthur laying back in the tub, languidly stroking his cock in the water, eyes trained on you, gaze unblinking. His mouth hangs open as he pants, and god, if he isn’t the most beautiful sight you’ve seen.

Finally, the knots are untied and you let the skirts pool at your feet, slipping your shoes off as your fingers dip into the waistband of your bloomers. You push them downwards, revealing to his hungry eyes the curve of your ilium, the starting of the dark thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs, until finally, those too pool at your feet.

He smiles up at you, the wonderful man, bruised cheek and all, and takes his hand from his cock to reach toward you, the warm bath water tracing down your skin as his thumb gently glides along your hip.

“C’mere, darlin’.”

You lean back over the tub to take his lips with yours, smiling into the kiss, before drawing back and lifting one of your legs to climb into the tub. His hands immediately clamp to your waist to pull you in, and with little further movement from you, you’re straddling him in the tub, lowering yourself into the warm water and settling astride his hips.

Both of your hands float southward, grasping his cock and he hisses in pleasure, his hips jutting upward in the tub against yours.

You raise up on your knees again, holding the base of his cock with one hand, while the other moves up his chest to his bruised cheek.

“You’re so handsome, even with half your face black and blue.” You whisper playfully into his lips before kissing him deeply.

He grunts back against you, “May wanna get your eyesight checked.”

You pout again for a moment, biting your tongue as the thought flees your mind. Arthur is slowly, gently pulling your hips down onto him. You take the hint and press your hips downward.

“Oh, oh-”, you whine as you lower yourself onto him, his cock carving out that space in you that you always long to have filled, “God, Arthur, you're so good.”

Your hands fly to the lip of the tub behind his head as he pulls you down all the way, the stretch of him always painfully sweet.

“You’re the o-only one I want.” You gasp as you bottom out, your rear landing on his thigh.

“Terrible judgment you’ve got there.” Arthur laves his tongue across your earlobe with his hands spread over your hips as you move yours to his shoulders.

“I love you.” You whine against his temple as you roll your hips once, and the groan of pleasure that escapes his lips is the only reply he can give for several moments.

The sound of water sloshing fills the room alongside heavy panting and barely concealed moans.

“Christ, woman-” Arthur juts his hips upward, turning his head inward to catch your earlobe again, “I love you so damn much.” He groans into your ear and you mewl, leaning backward to take more of him.

His lips return to your breast, sucking at your nipple as you roll your hips over his in the tub, both of his hands sure on your waist, aiding in your movement. You whine as you feel him start to buck his hips up in time, meeting you with thrusts that force him deeper, deeper into your tight cunt.

“Arthur-” You cry out, head falling back as you come, muscles seizing and cunt clenching hard around him. He grunts in response and continues thrusting up into you, his mouth hanging open as the water sloshes up the side of the tub.

You’re coming down from your high when you return to him, gasping like a fish out of water as he fucks up into you, your forehead pressing against his as your fingers curl around the lip of the tub again.

His teeth grit, trying to suppress a moan as his powerful arms move you, pulling your hips up and off of him as he closes his eyes and breathes out through his nose, and looking at the reddening of his chest and the noises he’s trying to stifle, you know he’s coming in the warm water.

He comes down from his high panting, cheeks and chest flushed from both exertion and the bath water. You press your forehead against his and smile, breathing heavily yourself.

Your hands move from the lip of the tub to cup his cheeks, and you lean down once again to press your lips to his, which he heartily accepts. Your tongues press against each other sweetly, his arms tight around your waist. Nothing could ruin this moment.

Unless…

“You need some help in there, mister?”

Normally, the girls have the sense to wait for a response, but for god knows what reason, this one simply unlatches the door and begins to step in.

“Oh!” The girl’s eyes widen as you move to cover your breasts, crying out as Arthur sits up and draws you into his embrace, one hand around your back and the other tucking you into his shoulder.

“No- no, ‘m fine.” Arthur grits out, trying to move to cover you decently.

After a moment of recovery, the bath girl groans and rolls her eyes, pulling the door shut as she grumbles under her breath.

“Ain’t they supposed to wait until you tell them to come in?” You grit into his shoulder, arms still wrapped around your chest, as you sit up, warily eyeing the door.

Arthur shrugs, one finger moving under your chin and pulling you back toward him.

“Well, we know she ain’t coming back anytime soon.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #twolafic #red dead smut #arthur morgan x reader

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ashessonfire · 1 year

Note

listen here, you DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO RIP MY HEART OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROW IT IN THE MUD AND STAMP ON IT WITH THAT LATEST KAZ FIC OF YOURS, GET IT? I'm completely… devastated. I never asked you for anything, please do a part two, I BEG YOU!

ps: darling, you write very well ♡

'Forgotten' Part two - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt: Kaz slowly begins to remember your relationship, but what good is that if he has already tossed you aside? Can the Bastard of the Barrel save the one thing he truly loves?

You can find the first part of 'Forgotten' here!

- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: A lot of angst, nothing too graphic, lots of emotion coming from Kaz + his crows, so much sadness, dont worry too much though ... :)

A/N: The amount of requests for this have been insane, once again i truly love each one of you, my heart is so full. I hope this is a good ending for the first part, im very happy with how it turned out!! P.S I am so sorry for the pain i seemed to have caused with the first post T-T ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Glimpses of you tormented Kaz, plaguing his every thought. His mind seemingly fixated on the one person he had deserted out of pure spite.

It had been two weeks since you were outcast, and Kaz had prayed to the Saints that it would relieve him of the weight gripping his heart, ever since his memory was ripped away from him. Yet they seemed to laugh in his face, spitting back a far more excruciating punishment for his actions.

Returning his memories.

The second you had left his office, tears spilling as they swirled in your shining eyes, Kaz had felt something deep stirring within him, something resembling dread. Since then, he had begged any higher being for relief as realisation began to flood his senses, engulfing his every thought and action.

Wounds scattered his already battered heart, with the rest of the crows seeming to crush it further each day. Ever since you had slipped carefully crafted letters under each of your friend’s doors, you had melted into the shadows of Ketterdam, not a single trace of your presence left behind.

You knew Kaz ultimately wasn’t to blame, yet the scars he had painted onto your soul were excruciating, physically pushing you away from him to escape further agony. You too, prayed to the Saints that your boyfriend, or perhaps ex-boyfriend, would regain what he had lost, and remember you as his lover.

Wind swept through your hair, salt spraying your glowing features as you sailed towards Ravka, choosing to allow the breeze to blow your pain along the wind, and back to Ketterdam. Pushing Kaz to the furthest corner of your mind, you stepped off the ladder onto Ravkan soil, determined to reap the benefits of your misfortune rather than wallow in them.

Taking the outstretched hand of a grinning sailor, you allowed the warmth of his smile and the welcoming of the group around you to bathe you in some sort of content.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

It seemed as if your prayers had worked, as each day wracked Kaz with a new memory or emotion, each one undeniably interlinked with you. His feelings overtook him, spewing out in rageful fits or harsh punishments for anyone daring to cross him, deepening the rift forming between the boss and his crows.

The moment each crow had read your letter, it instantly clicked into place what had happened, despite your deliberate attempts to remain vague about the exchange which had stolen you from them.

Sitting in Jesper’s room, the crew remained sullen, intense emotions clouding the air, becoming unbearable. The suffocating atmosphere was fractured when Nina suddenly burst out, “I am going to kill him. I warned him to be gentle, yet he pushed my attempts aside, and now...this. The hit could have been hard enough to at least remove some of his stubbornness.”

Nina huffed, rage coursing through her blood at Kaz’s actions, had she not been clear enough? “He can’t just send her away, can he? I mean, I didn’t think he would have it in him to do that, even before those two got together,” Jesper seethed, confusion lacing his voice but an unmistakable anger matching Nina’s.

Wylan remained silent, picking at the rotting wood of the floorboards, too overwhelmed at the loss of you to comprehend his emotions. Inej similarly remained quiet, eyes fluttering shut as she soundlessly prayed to each Saint that you would return, and Kaz would finally see sense.

Despite the varied reactions to their boss’s stupidity, a common thread held them closely together, pain. To each one of them you meant the world, a prevailing light penetrating through the dreary Barrel life which often consumed its inhabitants.

You lit up the darkness of the ruthless city, aiding Jesper in amusing pranks often against Kaz, in which you would take the blame for, knowing deep down Kaz could never hold it against you.

You consoled Wylan when whisps of his past would haunt him, taking him on walks along the canal or making his favourite tea and taking in the views of Ketterdam from the rooftop. The warmth of the suns beams and your words washing away his nerves.

For the usually reserved wraith, you encouraged her confidence, easing her fear of touch in a similar way in which you helped Kaz. Around very few other people Inej could say she felt the same comfort and unconditional love that radiated from your mere presence. Nina could positively agree with how Inej felt, intensely missing her gossip companion and partner in crime. You knew every detail about her, and the rest of the crows, in a way nobody else could ever counter.

On the third week of your absence, the crows had seen very little of their leader, the few signs of his presence being the scraping of a chair in his office, or the beat of a cane on the panels of the Slat, indicating he was finally eating before walling himself up in his desolate isolation again.

Paperwork scattered Kaz’s desk, yet it remained as untouched as it was when he had exiled you. His days were spent calculating finances, unable to bring himself to plan a heist without you, with a distinct and vital element of his crew missing.

A sudden echo of weighted footsteps sounded outside of his door, their ascent bringing a chorus of hushed voices as the crows burst into his office. It had been days since they had last encountered their boss, his previous sighting confining him almost indefinitely to his room. It was in the early hours of the morning a few nights ago that he had finally emerged to gather some papers from the common room, when his attention snapped up to a sight that he was utterly unprepared to face.

Before him, by a fireplace laden with dim embers, sat Inej, Wylan, and Jesper, all three bearing cascading silver lines down their faces. Wylan’s breathing was ragged as he sobbed into Jespers chest, the sight of which triggering the other two. Realisation slammed into Kaz, knocking the breath out of his lungs, startling him with the intensity of emotion that welled up within him.

Not only had he destroyed the one true tenderness in his life, but he had also destroyed his closest friends too.

By this point, he had figured that he had long been captivated with you, and the most recent flashes of memory brought his relationship barreling down on him. Although patches were hazy, he had decoded exactly what he felt.

He was in love with you.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Before any of the group that had stumbled in could voice their opinions, the sight of their boss stunned them into silence.

Kaz remained hunched over his desk as always, but the ghostly paleness to his skin, the hollowed cheeks that protruded at sharp angles, and the grave circles etched underneath his reddened eyes deeply unsettled his crows. Nothing, not even Pekka Rollin’s greatest attempts to wound him, had ever resulted in Kaz Brekker’s complete and utter destruction.

Until now.

Inej quietly cleared her throat before courageously stating, “Kaz, we are going to find her. Not only are the Dregs seriously disadvantaged, but we also need her. Not just for jobs, even though you may not remember…” until she was cut of by a sharp voice.

Kaz’s head whipped up, glaring with a deathly warning at the people who stood before him. “I do remember,” he lashed out, voice deep and gravelly at the lack of use, “I remember everything now. You think I would have done that if I had known?”

His words echoed around the dim room, but it was something about Kaz’s face which caused the crows to collectively draw in their breath. A tear had freed itself from the confinement of his heart, snaking it was way down his ashen cheek, revealing to the group the torment he was being subject to by his own actions.

With a shaky hand, he procured a crumpled piece of paper from his waistcoat, holding it out to the group in a similar way in which he had done to you, the emotion in his chest pressing tightly against his lungs.

Jesper stepped forward cautiously, snatching it from his hands and unfolding the corners. The group peered over his shoulder to discover a meticulously thought-out plan to retrieve you from Ravka. Kaz glanced at the group, for the first time allowing them a glimpse of his true feelings, begging them silently to aid in his mission.

With a swift look to the others, they wordlessly agreed to Kaz’s plan, Jesper handing back the paper to his boss and giving a tight nod to Kaz, “Lets go then,” he declared.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Through a thorough process of force, Nina had coaxed the reality of your conversation out of Kaz, pulling up rage from the group. However, they excellently withheld it, knowing you would never blame Kaz for his actions whilst his memories fogged over, despite the pain they had caused.

The air around them cleared as the ship sailed away from the port in Ketterdam, the grey of the ocean blending into cerulean as the voyage to Ravka proceeded. If Kaz’s calculations remained accurate, you would be collecting information within the small harbor you had first landed in, leaving little ground for the group to cover in search of you.

Once they reached land, they split off into six desperate individuals, Jesper searching the market, Inej scouring the rooftops, Wylan inquiring with locals, and Nina investigating the shops that littered the town square. Kaz stationed himself inside a cramped booth at the busiest of the sparse bars that lined the town, his informants assuring him it was the most popular with Ketterdam’s visitors.

For the first time in years, Kaz felt sick with nerves. He remembered how anxious he had felt when he summoned the courage to admit his feelings, but the sheer force of his panic now tied him down and drowned him.

Tears poured frequently from his eyes during the weeks of your absence, the dread of not knowing how you were constantly squeezing at his heart. The knowledge that if something happened to you it would be his fault ate at him until he was a mere shell of the man you had loved.

A voice pulled him out of his daze, like a siren inviting a sailor to dance in the depths of the ocean, Kaz was defenseless against you. As he turned his head towards the sound, you also glanced over at the dark figure in the corner, heart ceasing its movements in your chest the second your gazes locked.

It truly was him.

Frozen by the sight of you, Kaz couldn’t comprehend his own actions, remaining frigid in his seat as he stared at you, eyes once again being subject to the sting of tears.

‘Pathetic’ he thought to himself.

You gave a kind smile to the men you were conversing with previously, quietly slipping into the opposite seat from Kaz. You parted your lips to begin small conversation, not wanting the tension to grow too intense, but your words crumbled as he shot out, “I need you.”

Confusion flooded you, yet the desperation flooding his eyes signaled that he wasn’t done, the words were just slowly configuring inside. You knew him well enough to give an encouraging nod, letting him calculate his next words.

“I need you to come back. I remember it all, and” he stopped himself, breathing shallowly as his lungs refused to intake enough air, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Tears leaked from his sunken eyes, his fragile appearance wracking you with emotion, the temptation to reach out to him becoming unbearable. Nobody but you had ever seen the Bastard of the Barrel break, yet he sat before you now, heart on full display for only you to see.

Yet you remained strong, answering his pleads by stating, “And how will that go? I know you lost your memory, but will you just push me away again if your feelings overwhelm you?” Before he could respond, you breathed out, “Kindness often isn’t free in this world Kaz, but when it comes to you, I would never expect anything in return. However, if you truly want me back, I need you to prove to me that it's really,” you paused,

“You.”

Instantaneously, Kaz reached for your hand, gloved fingers grasping desperately at your own, interweaving and caressing them in an iron grip. “I swear,” he started, “I will never let anyone harm you again in the way I have, my love,” a flood of emotion seeping into his words and gaze. “Including myself. I’m sorry,” he said, guiding your interweaved hands to his lips, the trembling a mere afterthought as he kissed your knuckles.

Smiling sadly at him, you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, hearing a shaky sigh leave his lips at your touch, mere weeks leaving him in desperation for you.

“The others are here I suppose?” you questioned, earning a short nod from Kaz and a diversion of his gaze. Unwinding your hand from his, you stood up, glancing down at the sorrowful man, and offering a soft smile, “Lets go find them then,” heart fluttering as Kaz’s hand gripped your wrist, unable to go without your touch a moment longer.

Weaving your hand through his once more, your gaze softened as the tension carved into your boyfriends sullen face released, as the pair of you made your way out of the establishment, connected by the hands that gripped the other and the love that radiated between the pair. Once you had received at least a hundred embraces and kisses from the other crows, you embarked on the journey back to dreary city of Ketterdam.

Not once on the voyage did Kaz leave your side, exchanging soft touches in each moment, and gently whispering against your temple a breathy, “I love you,” as the sublime colours of the sunset bled into the ocean, coating the two in a golden haze.

Relief settled between you, having the other fully within their reach again.

As Kaz’s attention diverted back to the wide expanse of water before him, you pour all of your emotions into your next words.

“I love you too, Kaz Brekker.”

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

tag list: @cinnamon-bun47 @outlawqueen17 @s-corpionem @minstens @myheartfollower @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hopefulpeachnight @aesthetic0cherryblossom @thetargaryenbride @maisieisbae @natalia42069 @words-are-cheap @blancaster @caspianobsessed @lvmos-maximus @peotego @rhyanna6012

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #ashessonfire

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

Text

Your Protector

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: Arthur comes to your rescue while you're being harassed.

a/n: This is technically a reupload from back in November but I added a lot more detail and its now about 1k longer so-- Also this fic was originally a request: "reader getting hit on in a shady alley and Arthur rescuing her"

warnings: gore, blood, violence (not more than game), harassment, basically a gross, greedy man who gets a bit handsy

It’s been ten minutes since Arthur left you in the alley. Nervously, you run your sweaty palms down your jeans and slow your breaths. You couldn’t deny Arthur when he had asked you to scope out this job with him. He made all the plans, crafted a safe and efficient way to get the money with no one getting hurt. And although you trust him, your nerves are still on edge. The other outlaw had caught first wind of this score when helping a passerby on the road in Bayou Nwa. Arthur helped a man with a nasty snake bite, and was gifted a token of information as a payment. Apparently, the Saint Denis gunsmith is running a little underground gambling. Big poker games, with top players, betting more money just on one game than you’ve ever laid eyes on in your life. That tip came about a few weeks ago, and after some sniffing around, Arthur found the information to be true. Tonight, at 8pm, the cards were dealt for the tournament game. The big one.

You pace, nervously glancing down at your silver pocket watch. The time reads just after midnight. These games take hours, if not days, but by now most of the money should be out, and the players should all be here with their riches. Before jogging up the metal staircase and sneaking through a cracked window, Arthur had planted you as a lookout in the alley adjoining the gunsmith. His plan is: sneak in, play the part, and rob the bastards blind. They’ll probably be too wasted on hooch to even notice him slipping away with their life savings. Your job is strictly to keep watch, which Arthur reassured you is a very important job, despite your reservations. You glance at your pocket watch again, seeing that Arthur has now been in there for thirteen minutes. Shoving the watch into your pocket to get rid of the distraction, you glance around the alley. It's dark, and eerie. The pass way is long and narrow, with rotting wooden crates lining the walls and rats that run and squeak, causing you to jump every now and again. Water drips down from the metal overhangs, driving you mad with their constant noise.

Anxiety pools in your gut as the shadows made by the rats and the crates shift, and the walls seem to move in on you. It’s all an illusion of course, but your heart rate picks up as the shadows shift and taunt you. A few times you scare yourself, looking at the shadows for too long until they begin to morph. So, to preserve your sanity, you distract yourself, pulling your cattleman from its holster. You grab a bottle of gun oil and a little rag from your satchel, humming to yourself as you wipe down the barrel of the gun, making sure to get in between the little grooves. Arthur had bought you this gun, and had it engraved with ornate flowers. It’s one of your most dear possessions. You still feel incredibly uneasy, like you’re being watched, followed. But you tell yourself that your mind is just playing tricks on you. You focus on the gun, keeping enough awareness of your surroundings to know if the law is coming. With a satisfied smirk, you hold your gun under the flickering street light, admiring its clean, shiny state. Suddenly the gun is knocked away from your hand, and you gasp, having only a moment to watch it fall onto the cobblestone before whipping around in shock.

A beast of a man, easily over six feet tall with broad shoulders, towers over you, sneering down at you with yellow teeth and breath that reeks of liquor. He scares the hell out of you, and you back away quickly. In one large step backwards, with a loud gasp, your back hits the alley’s brick wall. The man steps forward, sandwiching you between himself and the wall. You feel so sick, so naive right now. When you had agreed to do this job, you’d expected to run into some nasty street kids and oversized rats at the worst, but oh were you wrong. Somehow the other type of vermin roaming Saint Denis had slipped your mind: the men like this one. The men who drink their fill and search the streets for a cheap woman to spend the night with, or any woman to spend the night with. He is the exact type of man you would expect to be at an illegal poker game, with greasy hair, beady eyes, and sharp features that remind you of a predator. Your back is still pressed against the wall, and the man in front of you corners you by bringing a hand to either side of your head on the wall. You’re trapped. You glance down to your cattleman on the street, and damningly realize you can’t reach it. When the man opens his mouth to speak, the acrid, alcoholic smell of his breath makes you gag.

“Say, what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ in these nasty parts of town all by yourself?” His breath is hot on your face, and the smell of his sweat chokes you. You think about screaming for help, but all that would do is tie a noose around Arthur’s neck. Yelling isn’t an option. One of his large hands comes up to your face and he gently caresses your cheek with the back of his index finger. You tear your face away from his touch, fuming. You look angry and tough, but under it all you’re terrified.

“I'm not alone, got a friend in the gunsmith, he should be back any second.” you growl, staring the man right in his colorless eyes. Slowly, he turns his head in both directions, scanning the gunsmith doors and the stairwell that leads to the attic. When he turns his head back to you, there is a sickening grin on it.

“Well, sweet thing, I don’t see anyone… do you?” The man chuckles deeply, threateningly, “It can be real dangerous around here if you ain’t got someone to keep an eye on you…” He snarls, a mock smile on his lips that causes your stomach to flip with disgust. The man leans down, only inches away from your face as you shove your body back against the brick wall, wishing it would swallow you whole.

“The names’ Levi… care to tell me yours, pretty girl?” Levi sneers, eyeing your scowl.

Your eyes are glued to the gunsmith’s side door, silently begging Arthur to return. You know that you can’t fight this man off. He’s much bigger than you, and even in his drunken state, he’s stronger than you are. His hands grip your forearms, pushing you back against the brick wall and you yelp.

“I don’t need you protectin’ me, now let me go!” You yell into his face, shoving against the brute as hard as you can. Levi only laughs, pushing closer to you. His weight, sandwiching you against the wall, knocks the air out of your lungs as you attempt to push him away. He only laughs, and the smell of his alcohol ridden breath once again makes you gag.

“Why don’t you come wit’ me? I’ll show ya a real good time. Do you think a lil’ thing like you can handle me, precious?”

Eyes squinted shut, you silently beg Arthur or anyone to help you.

— — — —

Arthur scans the room once more before swiping the cash off of the table and sliding it into his leather saddle bag. Most of the gamblers have passed out, but the ones who are still conscious are far too drunk to notice Arthur slipping by, knocking out a couple of guards and stealing their wealth. It's dark in the room, most of the candles have burned out already, and Arthur isn’t seen as he crouches, expert fingers grappling and pickpocketing as he goes. There is a little makeshift bar towards the window he had crawled in through, and on top of it rests a thick clip of money. Arthur eyes it, stepping towards the window to snatch the clip. Just as he passes the window, a breeze rolls in, and carried on it is your voice.

“Let me go!” You growl, and Arthur peeks out the window, face pale as his heart drops. He sees a big bastard, towering over you and holding you against the wall, yelling in your face. For a second Arthur sees nothing but red.

Arthur panics, filled with both rage and fear. The cash clips that he has not yet collected are discarded on the counter as Arthur runs down the interior staircase. It's quicker than crawling through the window and dealing with the ladders. Arthur’s mind is clouded with a primal instinct to protect you as he bolts down the steps, skipping multiple as he goes.

“Shit, shit- Shit!” Arthur growls, pushing up against the main door to the gunsmith. It doesn't budge, presumably locked for the night. And although Arthur would only have to reach down and unlock the fine wooden door, he wastes no time, kicking the wood with such force that it swings open, nearly knocked off the goddamn hinges. Arthur fumes, stepping through the broken door, and dropping the saddle bag onto the ground. You’re only right across the alley now.

His eyes meet yours, and you look so small compared to the bastard who is bothering you. Arthur doesn’t hesitate for a second, coming up behind Levi in a few long strides and grabbing him by the back of his collar. Even though Levi is large in comparison to you, he is not nearly as big as Arthur.

Arthur drags Levi back by his collar with an indescribable rage, and slams him into the brick wall, opposite of you. A sound erupts from Arthur, that could only be compared to a growl as he wraps his hand around Levi’s throat. His other fist is raised and ready to beat the life out of the bastard. You breathe deeply, sinking against the floor to catch your breath and reel over what’s playing out before you., relief washing over you because Arthur’s here.

“What in the hell were you just sayin’ to her?!” Arthur’s voice is deep, filled to the core with rage, the kind that can’t be stopped or repressed. His eyes are dark, and despite the love and the comfort that they have provided you with, Arthur looks terrifying now.

You can do nothing but catch your breath and watch the scene play out. You’re still in shock, mindlessly rubbing your hand over the spot on your arm that your perpetrator was gripping onto so tightly. You wince, realizing that there will definitely be bruises there later.

Levi cracks a sickening smile before responding to Arthur,

“Ah, so you’re the one this whore is fuc-” Levi’s words are cut short as Arthur’s fist meets his face. There is so much force and anger behind the punch that you are surprised Levi is still conscious. A loud crack snaps through the air- you realize that it is Levi’s nose shattering as he screams out in pain. Arthur is fuming, his shoulders rising up and down quickly as he attempts to stop himself from killing this piece of shit. He puts his fist down, but keeps his hand on Levi’s throat. A bruise in the shape of Arthur’s knuckles is already starting to form on Levi’s face. His greasy hair is now falling down in front of his eyes as he spits blood onto the ground. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s drunk, stupid or both, but he attempts to get under Arthur’s skin one last time.

“You don’t feel like sharin, do you mister?” Levi pauses, spitting some more blood to the ground and eyeing you up and down before continuing, “Can’t say I blame you partner… If I had a woman wit a body like that I’d never-”

Once again Levi is shut up by Arthur’s fists. Except for this time Arthur doesn’t stop. Something snaps inside the outlaw, like he’s gone completely feral. Arthur shoves Levi to the ground, straddling him while landing punch after punch to his face. You sit against the wall in shock, wincing at the wet crunch and snap of bones breaking. Arthur’s chest is heaving as he beats Levi senselessly. You’re not sure how long it goes on, but it feels like forever.

Eventually, Levi stops resisting the blows, and Arthur gets off the half dead man, still enraged. He stands, fuming.

“You piece of shit, don’t you ever put your goddamn hands on her again- and if you ever talk to her, or any woman, like that again, I'll do alot worse than this, you hear?!” Arthur all but snarls.

Levi doesn’t respond, and Arthur kicks him in the ribs for it.

“Do. You. Hear?” Arthur growls, low and deep.

You’re honestly not sure if Levi is even alive, or capable of responding. His face is beaten in, red and smashed, he's not even recognizable. You breathe a little easier when you see the beaten man nod his head up and down. He’s an awful bastard, but you’re relieved that Arthur didn’t kill him.

“Good.” Arthur hisses with an icy tone that you’ve never heard before.

Stepping over Levi, Arthur leans down into a crouch in front of you and his features soften. He gently pulls the hair away from your ears, checking your face before running his green eyes over your body, checking that you’re not hurt. His face is pinched up in concern, and the hands that check over you are bruised and stained with the blood of your perpetrator. After doing a quick check over, Arthur grabs your gun. His gentle hands meet your waist before he helps you to stand up. As soon as you’re on your feet, without another word, he grips your hand, picks up the money bag and pulls you deeper into the alley. After some turns and bends, Arthur stops in a secluded spot.

Arthur deems you both far enough away to be involved with any trouble from the law, and he turns to face you. His hands come up to your cheeks, and with care he gently turns your face to both sides, checking you over more thoroughly.

“How badly do you hurt?” Arthur asks, rolling up your sleeves to assess the forming purple splotches along your arm.

When he sees them, his jaw sets into a hard, cold state as he breathes deeply to control his rage. Your eyes flutter up to his own, and you tread on thin ice, not wanting him to go back and kill the man.

“Im okay Arthur, really, I-” You start, tears pooling in your eyes. Arthur watches them form and then wipes them away with his thumb.

“Now don’t lie for my sake, he hurt you? More than this?” Arthur’s hand is gently holding your bruised arm, and the other cups your cheek. His eyes speak of an ache, of regret, you know he blames himself for leaving you in the alley, and you rush to reassure him.

“No, no he didn't hurt me, shook me up a little, but nothing bad.” You whisper, catching those soft green eyes again. Arthur looks down, and his body tightens as he avoids your eyes, terrified to ask the next question.

“Did he- did he do anythin..?” Arthur looks up, eyes locked on to yours to assess your answer, and you flinch, realizing what he’s asking. God, it could have been so much worse.

“Arthur, no, I promise, I’m okay. Really.”

He nods, seemingly accepting your truth with a breath of relief as his tongue darts out over his lips.

“Fuckin’ bastard, I should’ve done a lot worse to him.” Arthur curses, stepping away to pace lightly.

You step forward and put a hand on his warm chest to quell his rage.

“No, no you shouldn’t have. He got the message Arthur.”

Arthur glances up at you for a few moments, his hands resting on his belt before he steps forward, and pulls you toward him by your shoulder.

“Just… C’mere sweetheart.” He whispers.

You step towards him, grateful for the way he envelopes you into his arms. He’s so big, so warm. It’s a comfort that you didn’t realize you needed in the moment as Arthur kisses the top of your head. Everything is perfect, just in the moments that he holds you like this.

“Y’know, I worry about you sweetheart. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt or bein’ made uncomfortable by bastards like him.” Arthur mutters into your hair, still hugging you tightly.

You wrap your arms tighter around his torso, nuzzling into his chest.

“Well that’s why I have you.” You counter, smiling into Arthur’s warmth. He chuckles, and you’re glad to hear it.

“I'll always be your protector, darlin.” Arthur says before pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

#arthur morgan fluff #protective arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

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catswashorrible · 7 months

Text

Fixing a Broken Wing. Kaz Brekker x GN!reader

Word count: 1419 Warnings: Minor injury description. A/N: Thought I'd start posting here as well as Ao3! Hope y'all like it. We need more gn fics. No pronouns or y/n are used for the reader! There aren't many physical descriptions either!

The frigid air was harsh on the looming city of Ketterdam. Nightfall broke on the horizon, and the tapping of a cane echoed from an open window. The usual ruckus of the Barrel was dimmed by the racing thoughts of a singular slimy bastard: Kaz Brekker.

You were an investment of his–A sly one from the Menagerie. Your silent nature and singing blades kept you labeled as an honorary Crow. You were sent on a venture for Heleen, but you were supposed to meet back with Kaz at dawn. Since dawn, Kaz had waited.

And waited.

An unfamiliar prickle ghosted the back of Kaz's neck as hours flew by without a whisper of you. You were never late–not for him. The corner of his lip curled into a humorless smirk. Was he so blind to have faith in Heleen to consider keeping you safe?

With impeccable timing, a soft thump came from inside his bedroom. The thumping was followed by a low croak; Kaz could've sworn you were just a large toad. You harnessed the rest of your strength to push yourself up, just enough to slump against the wall.

Kaz paced towards the bedroom, his familiar hobbled steps echoing on the wooden floors. "You're late. You better have a damned good reason for falling behind. I'd like my investments close at hand," His familiar rasp grumbled. As he approached the room, he let his eyes fixate on you. His eyes were like flint as he observed your physical state, his gaze flickering over all of your wounds with expert precision. Your tale had been a messy one, it seemed.

Silently, Kaz stalked toward you, kneeling to your level. He pressed the silver crow's skull of his cane to your chin, tilting your head lightly, cataloging each wound with a veteran's eye. Slashes, bruises, wounds - all painted a sordid story across your flesh. "Heleen?" He asked, nearly deadly silent.

You parted your cracked, bloodied lips to speak, but nothing came out. Your throat was rough and raw. You simply nodded, swallowing thickly as your eyes threatened to close. Luckily, Kaz's cane supported your chin. If your head began to lull, he would use it to angle it back up.

Kaz scowled. No one would hurt one of his own. He always made sure of it. "You survived. That's all that matters." Reaching into an inner pocket, he plucked a small vial from it. He held it to your cracked lips, his voice leaving no room for denial. "Drink. It will help your throat." And perhaps loosen your tongue enough for you to share more. Heleen could wait; his prized weapon came first.

You took in a shaky breath, parting your lips and tilting your head up. You drank the amber-tinted liquid, your face contorting into disgust as it hit your tongue. "Saints, boss, what the hell is that?" You groan, still holding the liquid in your mouth.

A ghost of amusement flickered in Kaz's eyes to see your disgusted reaction, fleeting as quickly as it came. "Effective medicine tastes of punishment," Kaz replied flatly in his salt-bitten rasp. "Consider it penance for troubling me with putting you back together. Now swallow." He uncorked a waterskin from his belt to wash away the bitter taste of ginger and cloves. He held it to your lips, tilting your chin up with his cane. His cold gaze studied your face with keen precision, filing each of your hurts.

Your heart pangs with guilt at Kaz's words. You swallowed the liquid begrudgingly. It stung your throat momentarily before a cooling sensation washed over the tender flesh. You made fleeting eye contact with him, and you swear you felt your stomach twist. "I went to meet with a client near the harbor... I think the old witch wanted to be rid of me," You hissed through bloodied teeth. "I should've known it was trouble. I could hear the rustling of Kruge." You met Kaz's eye again, and as he took a sharp breath in to speak, you blurt out: "Please don't send me back."

He listened to your story in chilling silence. Heleen was a traitorous worm in Kaz’s eyes. Ice ran through his veins as you murmured your broken tale, freezing over some long-forgotten well of mercy. When you finished, he opened his mouth to speak but froze when you interrupted him with a shaky plea. "You won't be," He whispered. The ghost of the broken boy gazed out at you through Kaz's eyes, understanding the unspoken between you two. "I wouldn't send you back if my life depended on it."

Kaz rose in one fluid motion, looming over you like the vengeful raven his reputation had painted. His cane slipped from beneath your chin, causing your head to drop slightly. He stalked over to the small sink across the room and filled a ceramic bowl with water. Gloved hands darted around, grabbing various rags and containers. He moved back to you slowly and silently, gingerly placing the items on the floor beside you. Then, he slipped off his coat and neatly laid it down on the railing of his bed frame. He knelt once more, quick hands soaking the rag.

The silence between the two of you was deafening. Kaz’s slow, shaking breaths would slice through it occasionally, putting your mind at ease. He wrung out the excess water from the cloth and, with a trembling hand, he pressed it to a wound on your forehead. His care for your well-being seemed to trump his fears about getting too close to you. You grunt quietly as he cleans your injuries, but he makes no attempt to be any gentler.

He put the cloth back in the water and rinsed out the crimson substance that’d once coated it. You couldn’t help but notice his encased fingertips never broke the water’s surface in the bowl – A trick he must’ve learned all these years. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he angled his head down to clean off the rag.

He drew a handkerchief from his vest pocket and lifted a small earthenware jar from the floor. In a swift motion, he unscrewed the top and set it on the ground before dipping the cloth into the contents – a soothing salve developed from hard-won experience to ease battered flesh. With a sharp breath, he leaned a bit closer, smearing the substance into your wound.

It stung … and stunk. Your nose scrunches as the scent burns your nostrils. “What is it with you and foul medicine?” You manage to grumble before he silences you with an icy glare through his eyelashes.

“Would you rather be infected?” Replied Kaz, arching an eyebrow at you.

“No.” You stare back at him.

“Figured,” He whispered, the corner of his lip tugging into what most would consider a lesser frown, and to you, a smile. “You’re no use to me damaged.”

Kaz’s hands soon lowered as he finished coating your wounds in the substance. He leaned back immediately and scanned over your face once more. He took in a slow breath before he stood once more. “I will leave these with you to work on any other areas my eyes can’t touch,” He murmured. “I will leave you the room.”

Your eyes follow his form as he stands and runs a hand through his hair. His dark eyes flicker over you with a softer expression now—something underlying. “Very well,” You murmur.

As he turns to exit the room, he pauses and calls your name.

You turn to meet his gaze once more. “Yes?”

“The Crows will carry your name as they do mine,” He rasped. “No force in this world will send you back against your will. You have my word.”

You felt your stomach twist at his words. Your chest was swelling with warmth, or perhaps you were bleeding internally. Your wall was breaking. It was dangerous.

“Thank you, Kaz.” His name rolled off your tongue so easily like honey dripping onto warm bread. You rarely used Kaz’s name – You always opted for ‘boss’ or ‘Brekker.’ At this moment, however, Kaz deserved to be Kaz.

Kaz’s upper lip twitched slightly as you spoke his name. He felt his breath catch in his throat, hearing the way it so easily slipped from your mouth. He tightened his hand around the silver crow handle of his cane. “Rest,” He murmured before he made his swift exit, leaving you alone in the warm lamplight of his bedroom.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #no y/n #six of crows #kaz brekker fanfic #hurt/comfort #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse #fanfiction #touch aversion #i sniffled a bit writing this

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 1 year

Text

The Phoenix and the Crow

pairing: (future) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: nutural

el's thoughts: soooo... i didn't plan on ending it this way but here we are haha i guess a part three is now in the works :) also please remember to reblog the fics you really like!

masterlist

Y/N tried to quiet the clicking of her boots as she crept around the back of the sandskiff, making her way below deck. She found the trap door and quickly slipped down the wooden ladder. She placed her hands on the wall and tried to find a crack between the floorboards above in an attempt to see Alina. However, she froze in her place once she felt arms wrap around her shoulders, a knife pressed to her neck. Instead of lighting a fire between her fingers as a warning, she let the unknown being guide her to where two familiar men stood. The zemini and kerch from earlier. “You-”

“Who are you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Y/N L/N, inferni. Lieutenant General of the second army. Well, ex-lieutenant, I now assume.” A gasp slipped from the person behind her and she was instantly released from their hold. The suli girl for before stepped around her and moved to stand beside the other two. The trio looked like a rough-patch group of criminals. Ketterdam. She could only assume that’s where they were from. “Now it’s only well-mannered to tell me who you are given that I just told you who I am. Very willingly, mind you, I could’ve easily set a controlled fire loose. So…” She held out the ‘o’ as she waited.

“Jesper Fahey,” said the tallest of the group.

“Inej Ghafa.”

“Brekker.” His rich coffee-brown eyes bore into hers as if trying to read her soul. The dark lighting cast shadows over his sharp facial features. “Kaz Brekker.” His voice held much reluctance as he spoke his name.

“And I’m safe to assume you’re all criminals. Now that leaves me with one last question…” She spun on her heel and walked around, glancing over her shoulder every so often, inspecting the room. “What business do you have on this skiff?”

The trio shared a look and said nothing. Y/N hummed, “Okay… Avoid in silence, fine.” She sighed, “I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me, but I will get up there and I will be leaving this skiff with the sun summoner.” She eyed them all carefully, but her calm expression didn’t last long when another voice spoke up.

“I’ll be with you then.”

The four of them turned around so quickly that her head hurt. “Mal. Of course.”

“He’s with you?” The lanky man with his top hat pointed his gun between the two.

Y/N shrugged, “I guess so.” The hairs on the back of her neck pricked as she felt someone’s eyes on her, unmoving. Kaz Brekker. The name seemed slightly familiar as she sorted the names in her mind like files in a cabinet. Criminal from Ketterdam. Bastard of the barrel, Dirtyhands. He made quite a reputation for himself.

His eyes, were cold and unfeeling as he stared shamelessly at her. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to piece together her story, she assumed, just as she did his. Fair.

The sound of sand shifting was heard around them, and screaming was heard almost instantly after. Horror settled in her bones as the realization of what the Darkling was doing washed over her. “He’s moving the Fold.”

Mal ran to the stairs and lifted the trap door, gunshots were heard following his pounding steps on the deck above them. Y/N followed quickly, flames licked up her hands as soon as her head was above the wooden panels. In comparison to Mal, her footsteps were much quieter as she snuck up another set of stairs to where Zoya Nazalensky stood. A man in the familiar red grisha uniform stood there and was quick to notice her. Y/N threw up her hands, aiming a jet of flames straight toward his chest. All she needed was one loose thread to catch fire but luck or the saints weren’t on her side. He was quick to bring his hands together and within seconds she felt him grab ahold of her heart. Just as fast a knife flew right beside her head into his shoulder and a strong gust of wind knocked him back to the sand below the skiff. Inhaling deeply she saw Zoya and Inej to which she nodded her head in thanks. “Zoya, stop this skiff.”

The silence of the crows processing was heavy as they followed the others out of the fold. Y/N and Zoya took the lead, their voices were heard in hushed whispers while they set up a circle of logs and a fire for everyone to sit around. Mal and Alina walked far enough to change into the clothes they took from the skiff. Kaz, Jesper, and Inej sat next to each other, the latter two threw glances toward Kaz when they saw his scheming face. Trying to figure out what happens from this point forward.

Once Mal and Alina came back she threw her black and gold kefta into the fire.

“I didn’t think it’d actually burn.”

“Just like Kirigan, it can be destroyed after all.”

Y/N watched the pair from the corner of her eye. Her stomach couldn’t settle, she felt like something was still off. Her eyes drifted back to the shadow fold, her own thoughts consuming her before a voice snapped her out.

“Where do you plan to go from here?” Zoya’s voice was quiet but still in its usual stern tone. Y/N sighed, “I’m not sure. I have nowhere that I need to go so maybe I’ll travel for a while. Where do you plan on going?” She felt Kaz’s burning stare on the side of her face which she tried to ignore.

“My aunt was in that city when he expanded the fold. I have to go and at least search.”

“Just know that what you may find there could haunt you for the rest of your life.” Kaz’s voice was low and coarse. Everyone’s eyes trained on him while Zoya spoke. “It will haunt me more if I don’t at least try.”

Y/N felt all of her senses narrow in on the fire, twirling her fingers around causing the flames to jump up and dance their way to her outstretched hand. The heat spread across her skin but it never burned her, never left her scathed only a bit red for a few moments.

The Darkling is dead. They all finally have the freedom they’ve been chasing and they could destroy the fold once and for all, but the gnawing feeling in her gut never left. He’s still alive. And if he was still alive, they can count on him coming back stronger and with more reason to target them. Y/N knew firsthand just how quickly his anger could get out of control. Having worked so closely with him for a long time she saw sides of him that he never meant for others to see.

The sun summoner and her tracker walked back to the fire and stood beside the inferni. “We should make headway to the docks and catch a ship. Get out of here, right?” Alina looked to her mentor for direction but didn’t receive much help other than a dazed hum.

The group of exhausted misfits, criminals, and soldiers started their way to the docs. Zoya left the group to continue her journey to make her own peace with the inevitable loss of her aunt.

Once the ships came into view Y/N walked around asking which had the best price. She found one stopping in Ketterdam and then making its way to Novi Zem and got six tickets. She found a small section empty and sat down with the crows while Alina and Mal went to the edge by themselves. Silence settled over Y/N as she tuned out her surroundings, including the three people next to her talking about their adventures.

Where was she supposed to go now? She couldn’t stay in Ravka, Alina doesn’t need her, and she has no family to go to or look for. She’d never felt so useless in her life and she hated it. There was a point in her life where she wouldn’t die for this freedom to travel but after being on a short leash held by the Darkling she has the itch to constantly be doing something productive. To prepare for something, as if she was to be at war her whole life. While she saw the flaws in that she couldn’t just find somewhere to settle either.

“Next stop Ketterdam!”

Maybe a quick stop at Ketterdam wouldn’t hurt.

~*~*~*~

tagging: @rachelcarroll1819 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @khaleesihavilliard @simrah1012

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #ellora.writes

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popponn · 7 months

Text

about couples and such. [bakugou katsuki x f!reader] + midoriya izuku

notes: i tried my best to get his (and midoriya's) personality right, for a little after that one fight. i hope i really get it right and it's still bakugou and midoriya in the end. it was fun to (try to) write tho. extra note: petty couple fights. please do not take this fic too seriously because i certainly did not.

Whenever Katsuki and you fight, Izuku always suffers.

Such was the rule of the universe—or so his classmates said. Shouto pat his back, Ochako tried to cheer him up, and Iida… tried his best. But, in the end, Izuku couldn’t exactly refute those words.

Though, recently, whenever the two of you fought, it became a whole dorm crisis.

“I hate him,” you said, sobbing into your knees as you curled up on top of the lounge sofa. Izuku wished there were others with him and you at the moment. Unfortunately, like traitors all of them were conveniently away and busy.

Izuku stuttered your name. “He-hey, don’t say it like that,” he managed a smile that ended up more as a grimace more than anything. With a patience of someone who had handled this sort of issue since the three of you were in kindergarten, Izuku continued, “I’m sure Kacchan didn’t mean any of the words he said.”

“He called me weak! A deadweight!” you screamed before throwing yourself to the green haired boy. Seasoned and trained, Izuku caught you and returned your hug with a sympathetic pat to the back. A part of him noted that Katsuki had called you worse things back in your youth, but he supposed ‘childhood friends’ status that had changed to ‘romantic partners’ would change things too. So, wisely, he didn’t comment.

“There, there,” was the only he thing he could said. If only ‘Kacchan’ was better at this whole dating thing…

“Hey.”

Izuku’s head did a sharp turn to his right. Talk about the devil and he shall appear, they say. Think about Bakugou Katsuki and he will appear like a ghost haunting the dorm, he says.

From his hug, Izuku felt you tried to discretely peaked at your boyfriend. Without seeing it, Izuku knew you were failing miserably. Katsuki, too, seemed to notice your stare and immediately met your eyes with his permanent glare. In response, you immediately hid your face on Izuku’s chest and hug him tigther.

If Izuku noticed Katsuki shifting that glare into a genuine one at him—no, he didn’t.

As Izuku tried to think what should he do now, that he was stuck in this unpleasant confrontation, Katsuki spoke, “Have you eaten yet?”

You, unsurprisingly, refused to reply. Instead, you hugged Izuku tighter as if such action would make Katsuki step away. It didn’t, it only got the two of your an even nastier glare.

Izuku, like a saint, answered in your stead. “Uh, she haven’t,” Izuku said, omitting the fact that you were skipping meals since yesterday because ‘Katsuki called you a deadweight in the middle of a training’. Your tantrum was as complicated as it was already and he would not at anything to that.

Katsuki stayed silent as he gave your form a once over. Izuku suddenly felt like a parent. Perhaps, this was where he should nudge the blond to apologize to you?

“You are not a deadweight,” Katsuki stated, suddenly but confidently. You suddenly stiffened like a stone in his arms. “There I said it, so hurry up, the fuck you want to eat?”

Izuku tried not to outwardly grimaced once again at that. He knew that you are a tough girl, but considering the circumstances at the moment since this argument started, he really wished Katsuki could be a bit gentler. You just complained at him for three hours about Katsuki’s ‘cute bastard’ way of talking while crying and Izuku really really didn’t want a sequel of that to enfold in front of the related person.

Luckily, this time, you responded to Katsuki. Slowly, you raised your head away from Izuku as your hold on him loosened. You still glared at the sofa, not meeting Katsuki’s gaze. Silently, you sent a side glance to the source of your irritation.

“Katsudon,” you answered, quick and hoarse after crying, before promptly returning to hug Izuku tightly. Izuku regretted not bringing a pillow or something else to avoid this fate.

At your answer, Katsuki made a sour face. Of course. That answer either came from your mind that was filled of curses ready to be hurled at Katsuki or because you simply wanted to jab at him through his name. Nonetheless, with a sigh, Katsuki dutifully turned away and walked towards the kitchen, “Fine.”

As he walked away, Izuku once again wished that the two of you could discuss this just so this fiasco could end faster. He held back a sigh and returned to patting you in the back.

“Izuku,” you mumbled to his clothes.

“Hm?” Izuku responded patiently.

“I don’t like arguing with Katsuki,” you said, your voice just above a whisper.

Izuku sagely nodded, having heard this for hundred times already each time the two of you fought, “I know, I know.”

“I will…” you trailed off, gently prying yourself away from Izuku. Your reddened eyes blinked a few times, before you finished your sentence. “…I will help Katsuki. He must be hungry too.”

Izuku didn’t have the chance to reply before you walked away, going to the kitchen. He stared at your direction, wondering if he should follow. Then, he remembered how it had always been—since you were little and since the three of you reconciled.

Learning from experience, Izuku chose to return to his room.

(If he heard a quiet chatter accompanied by peaceful clanging of pans and sizzles of seasonings from the kitchen, Izuku didn’t bother to listen and gave that moment to the two of you.)

#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha fluff #mha fluff #featuring #izuku midoriya #bnha imagines #mha imagines #i dont really go here but #hey

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unrequitedloveletter · 11 months

Note

i'm here to send requestsss!

what about nikolai lantsov x sister!reader (or just sibling if you want to keep it gn) and how she had gone with nik every time he met up with the crows and she knows them all by now and she keeps in touch with kaz through letters and then one trip, she finally goes out to visit by herself and it's just hinted that y/n and kaz like each other

if you don't like it or feel it, feel free to ignore<3

Match Made by The Saints- K.B x fem! Reader

This was a blast to write, so thank you so much for sending it in! I am sorry it took me almost two weeks to write it out, I've just been stressing a lot over prom and upcoming grad stuff in combination with school related stress, as well as editing fics to get them ready for posting, but I hope you like this despite how much time it's taken

Fic type- this is fluff!

Warnings- mentions of alcohol, this is also mostly unedited and kaz is probably a bit ooc.

You'd naturally accompanied your brother every time he went to Ketterdam.

At first, it had been to act as the tether between royalty and the crows while Nikolai was acting as Sturmhond. Over time, it became an excuse to leave the palaces and see something outside of the village in Os Alta. From there, it became a matter of the fact that Ketterdam was a city that you quite liked and therefore, Nikolais trips provided you an excuse.

You knew the crows by name, and you loved each and every one of them.

There was Inej, her impeccable talent with her knives and her skills in the way of going unnoticed. She was excellent company, the wise type, unafraid to threaten your life in the same time she spoke one of her suli proverbs.

There was Nina and her abilities as a Grisha after her survival post jurda parem usage coupled with the fact that she was excellent company to keep, just as Inej was. There was the fact that she was skilled in combat, and the fact that, since making it out of the throes of parem withdrawal, she always seemed glad to throw a punch.

Her Fjerdan, Matthias, was the type to brood and stir in his silences, but most of those silences were comfortable. He was also good for a half decent cup of tea and, unlike other muscled types you'd known, did not have an affinity for the recital of eighty-page long sonnets.

There was Jesper, the sharpshooter, who was good for a glass of brandy and a bit of banter. He was the loyal type, the kind type, the type that you didn't expect to see much in a place like the Barrel. The love he held for Wylan, his boyfriend, was clear as water just in the way Jesper looked at him when he thought Wylan wasn't looking.

Wylan was the demo man, seemingly shy and a little aloof but very kind once you got to know him past it. He could create just about any bomb if he put his mind to it and he wasn't afraid to acknowledge his smarts in the area of destruction.

And then there was Kaz. The Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, a demon created in the alleyways and drowned in the harbor. He was the second person you'd met during your first visit to Ketterdam, but had been your favorite person to see in all of the visits since.

Over time, you and Kaz began sending letters to occupy the time between your visits. You'd get a letter every two weeks, write a response, and send it out the following day.

You talked about anything and everything with him, from things as simple as the weather to things as complex as heist plans and the week-old gossip in the city. Somewhere along that line, a bit of an unspoken romance developed.

It wasn't that you were romantically involved, no. You just liked each other, and as Jesper joined the two of you in the Slat, you drinking a bit of brandy and Kaz having opted for coffee and vodka, the fact that you liked each other was almost as obvious as the sky was blue.

"Enjoying the weather?" Jesper asked. "You could've come at a better time if you were hoping to miss out on the spring rain. In summer, it gets hot and humid."

"Ketterdam is different from Ravka, then," you said with a smile. "I find Ketterdams weather preferable, usually. Ravkan summers get hot and dry, and rain in springtime is rare until the last week of May. It's beautiful here, though."

"Beautiful, criminally underrated," Jesper hummed, daring a glance at Kaz. He was watching you intently, his expression unreadable everywhere but in his gaze. His expression wouldn't've been readable to anyone else, but Jesper had long learned to look for signs of emotion in Kaz where nobody else would've thought to, a skill Inej had taught him in her returns from her voyages.

Kaz Brekker was looking at you like you were the one thing throughout the entirety of the Slat that had actually mattered. Jesper was entirely sure that he could've grabbed the Van Eck DeKappel painting and returned it to his and Wylans home without Kaz noticing or caring all that much in the end.

"It's full of gorgeous and handsome criminals, if you go to the right gambling dens and gang headquarters. How long are you in?"

"Til the end of August," you hummed. "Needed to escape the palaces for a bit. All of it was beginning to feel too mundane."

Jesper suspected that you had missed a certain guy with a thousand different nicknames, all of which had nearly the same connotations, too. He didn't say as much, only looked to Kaz.

"She's in on our heist jobs for the next bit?"

"A few," Kaz nodded. "We'll be going back to Ravka alongside her at the end of August. The royals need our assistance with a jewelry heist."

Jesper observed your gaze. You were looking at Kaz like he was the most important person in the room, just as he was looking at you. He wouldn't've tried, but had he wanted to, he was sure he could steal the Lantsov emerald from your person without you giving a damn.

"Who else is in?"

"The rest of the crows," Kaz responded. "You'll have to tell Wylan, though. I'm not popping to yours for dinner, and I won't see him for three days."

"You have alternate dinner plans?" Jesper asked, glancing between you and Kaz for a few moments. "Yeah. That's fine. Have fun."

Jesper did not know what to think of the pairing you two could've made, he just knew that he did not miss it; the pining, the yearning, the 'we like each other but we're both oblivious.'

He was glad the two of you may have had each other, though. It seemed a match made by the saints--or a match that would be made when you both stopped being fools, anyway.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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swampbrick · 5 months

Text

Y’all have waited so patiently for me to get my shit together and format this post, and for that, I thank y’all endlessly (for not calling me out on my avoidant personality and procrastination xoxo)

Without further ado, I give you…

Swamp’s GhostSoap Recs

PART TWO

(electric boogaloo)

My qualifications to make this post are that I’m neurodivergent and have read over half the damn archive at this point.

If you see your fic featured here and don't want it included in a rec post, just shoot me a dm! Will remove any from the list without question or complaint at the author's request.

Notes: I tried to sort some of them out into some broader categories for easier perusal, however, some fics might touch more than one of these topics. I went with whichever category was the MOST relevant in regard to the fic's content. Fics in italics are under 10K words. Stuff involving religious guilt and heavy religious undertones are marked in orange. Some fics are privated by the author- in that case the link might not work for you if you’re on mobile, so just look it up by author and title once you’re logged into your AO3 account. Happy reading!

Random Fics I Enjoyed and Can't Sort Into Broad Categories

The Wedding Lt. by SomnolentPavana

Like Watching Paint Dry by Grangers_apprentice

Mission Briefs by BleedingTypewriter

Don't be Scared by the Starting Gun by Suliana

Afraid (of Changing) by EmpressCirque

HALO by Cryypticchaotic

Tough Love by The_neurodivergent_nerd

Smooth Sailing on Choppy Water by coderaven

Poison Apple by surveycorpsjean

Punch Drunk by Drolly

Tesco's Finest by Vanemis

If You Don't Stop, I'll End up Believing You by Hochseeperle

Assorted AUs

like the dust (that hides the glow) by ArcadeGhostAdventurer [soulmates]

In My Time of Need by WhisperedWords12 [omegaverse]

lotus flower by exavibus [tattoo artist x florist]

Damaged Goods by Red_Clegane [lawyer x prostitute]

Safety Hazard by Red_Clegane [president's son x secret service]

On Leave

No Reqiuem by ice_hot_13

set your teeth against my throat (give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes) by aetherealmoss

let these hills absolve me by flowersferns (THE SHEERP FARMING FIC SOBBING CRYING)

solemn prayer, poppy in my hair by congee4lunch

A Scottish Bastard's Smile by SnarlingGherkin

The Fairtytale of Manchester by MildLimerence

Injury and/or Discharge

all that's said in the low light by headlocket (my favorite fic of all time actually if you haven't seen my 9000 other posts saying so)

My frozen heart (would melt just for you) by Red_Clegane

Clue by Wispscribbles

I Woke Up Underground by WispScribbles

Vicissitude by crows_and_curses

Yours Sincerely by LeoDoesGames

i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm by marviless

Affirmative, Sir by Wixiany

To Drive a Man to Madness by Crypticchaotic

This Is (Mostly) P0rn

After Dark by Sylencia (THE BDSM CLUB FIC WOOF WOOF)

If I ever saw you try to be a saint (I'd be appalled) by Xalethar

Chicago Whiskey by Serpentwyne

Make Me Bad by Serpentwyne

gimme just a little bit (more) by applepieces [09!ghostsoap]

Promise Ring by LXVERSOFFENSE

Want It All by TuxedoHummingbird

A Fool's Gambit by MildLimerence

tame me by MikaelLo

the human condition by bilbhoebangins

All the Sins You Never Had the Courage to Commit by mothbeast

The Worthy Vessel by MildLimerence

Hotline by MildLimerence

Bonus Fic!

Here's a Gaz Centric, Poly141 fic that has ghostsoap in it but does not focus on it heavily enough to go in one of the other categories. This is Kyle's time to shine.

Hand Around My Heart by Grangers_apprentice

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thebadgerclan · 1 year

Text

Outdated

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: An outdated practice comes to light...

A/N: This was inspired by the Netflix show’s “The Empress” (really good, 10/10 recommend) scene where Elisabeth’s “purity” is examined. Nothing graphic is depicted, but it does deal with a virginity check, so if that’s something that will make you uncomfy, this might not be the fic for you

Also Nikolai is 1,000,000% a feminist, no I will not take questions on this 😂

“He did what?!” You had never seen such rage on your fiance’s face; not when his council questioned his decisions, not when his father called him a clueless bastard, not when the Fjerdans rejected yet another peace treaty. But when you ran into his study, your dressing gown tied haphazardly around your waist, your hair mussed and your cheeks stained with tears, Nikolai’s fear for what had happened had quickly morphed into boiling, white hot rage.

Through stuttering sobs, you managed to tell Nikolai what had happened. Before your ladies had even come to help you dress, the Apparat had entered your room, a Healer in tow. As your wedding was a week away, the old man had said, your purity must be ensured. You’d expected a conversation, for the Healer to inquire about any past lovers you might have had (which were nonexistent). What you hadn’t expected was to be laid back, your legs spread, and poked and prodded.

To his credit, the Healer appeared thoroughly uncomfortable with the whole affair, made all the more uncomfortable by the Apparat’s presence, hovering over his shoulder. As soon as the Healer declared you “intact”, you were scrambling to cover yourself, and as soon as the Apparat and Healer were gone, you were running to your fiance. There was too much anger flowing through his veins to comfort you, as much as he yearned to; to ease the torment you were feeling, to wipe your tears and shelter you in his arms, so Nikolai threw open the door.

“Kolya, where are you going?” you cried, trailing behind him hurriedly. “Nikolai!” Your fiance ignored you, knowing that if he so much as looked at you, he would shatter. The King strode hurriedly through the corridors, down a flight of stairs, and threw open the doors of the study the Apparat was permitted to keep. “Moi tsar,” the priest said, rising and bowing. “What can I do for you? And Lady Y/N, I was not expecting to see you until the wedding.”

“You’ll be lucky if you’re even in that damned chapel, priest,” Nikolai snapped, and the Apparat winced at the profanity. “Majesty, whatever is the matter? Have I done something to offend?” “Indeed you have. Might you explain why you were in my fiance’s chambers, violating her without her consent or knowledge?” The Apparat chuckled and shook his head, as if he were speaking to a petulant child.

“King Nikolai, the royal bride’s purity and chastity must be confirmed, surely you know this? Your mother underwent the sa-” “I don’t care!” Nikolai shouted, holding up a hand. “Do we live in the times of Anastas? Why should a woman’s virginity matter? Y/N is faithful, that should be enough to assuage your worries of an illegitimate child.” “The church, Your Majesty, requires it. The law requires it, the Saints require it!”

“And who wrote those laws?” Nikolai countered. “Men. Misogynistic, ignorant men. Men who viewed women as objects rather than living, breathing human beings, and I will not stand for it.” “Majesty, this is all an overreaction. The Healer found nothing amiss! The wedding can go on as planned!” The King stepped forward, forcing the Apparat to look up. “Oh, but something is amiss. You see, my beloved Y/N was violated today, treated as a vessel rather than the future queen. And that, priest, is something I cannot forgive or overlook.

“You will never subject another woman to such a display again, do you understand me?” “King Nikolai,” the Apparat said. “My vows to the church insist that I–” “If you do,” Nikolai said, his voice low. “I will have you hanged. Perhaps then you can ask your beloved Saints their thoughts on the matter, no?” It seemed the threat of death had knocked some sense into the priest, and he bowed shakily.

“Yes, Your Majesty. My apologies.” Nikolai huffed. “I am not the one you need to apologize to.” Your fiance stepped to the side, allowing the priest to look at you, still disheveled, still crying. “My apologies, Lady Y/N.” His words meant nothing, you knew this, but you nodded and turned, exiting the room.

When you were outside the study, Nikolai pulled you greedily into his arms. “My love, I am so, so, so sorry that happened. I didn’t know….I never thought he would…. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” You nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing deeply, the smell of his cologne calming you. “It’s not your fault,” you said, but your fiance held you closer. “No, I should have known, I never should have let him near you, I should have–” “Nikolai,” you said, cutting him off. “You are the last person I’m upset with. Yes, I’m shaken and upset, but you marched in there and threatened to kill him. That’s more than most men would do.”

Nikolai tipped your chin up and kissed you, keeping your body pressed against his. “I meant it,” he said. “That law’s getting abolished within the month. I’m so sorry that happened, darling. I love you so much.” “I love you too, Nikolai.” Your fiance took your arm and led you back to your rooms, somehow managing to make you feel as regal as the queen you would soon be in nothing but a dressing gown. “No one will ever touch you again,” he vowed, and you smirked. “Just you.” Nikolai smiled, a flush creeping up his neck. “Just me.”

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone

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