#jesper: every damn day :)

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ a christmas surprise ] j. hughes & n. hischier

day twelve of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader x Nico Hischier

summary : Jack sees the way (Y/N) is looking at Nico at the Devils Christmas party and makes an interesting proposal that neither of them can resist

warning(s) : smut ! approved cheating ? (idk if that's a thing but it's a thing for this fic), threesome, slight sub!reader, pet names during sex, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected and unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

author’s note : had to go all out for the last fic of the christmas marathon. my gift to y’all. merry (belated) christmas if you celebrate. i give to you, the finale of the christmas fic marathon ! this took me a lot longer to write than i thought but here y'all go

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She had no idea what to expect when she walked into the rental hall for the Devils Christmas party with her boyfriend of two years. She knows that Jack, Luke, Nico, Dawson, and Jesper decorated the whole thing, but she's surprised at how well it's actually decorated.

Everyone is either wearing red or back, which makes sense considering the Devils' colors are red and black. She thought there would be more green worn since it is the day after Christmas. A lot of the guys are wearing one of their arrival suits with crazy ties.

Jack isn't though. He has on one of his arrival suits and a black tie. He didn't go all out in his outfit but he did with the decor.

"Wow, Jack," she gasps when she walks into the hall. "Looks good. I had doubts."

He looks offended as (Y/N) greets him with a very quick kiss. "Ouch, baby," he says as he feigns chest pain. "That hurt."

"I mean, the oldest one out of the five of you that decorated is only 25," she defends. "Sorry if I had a few doubts about a bunch of mid to young twenty-year-olds decorating for a Christmas party. Luke also just left college in May so excuse me for being worried about how it would look with you guys decorating."

Jack drapes an arm around her shoulders and smiles. "We had our captain with us," he comments. "We were in good hands, (Y/N). He kept ordering us around and telling us where things should go. Merc even got yelled at in Swiss-German because Nico got so frustrated with us at one point."

She smiles as she walks further into the large room. "I wish I could've seen that," she laughs. "That sounds like a very Nico thing to do."

"What sounds like a very Nico thing to do?" a accented voice says from behind (Y/N). She freezes mid-step and turns with Jack to look at Nico Hischier.

"You yelling at Dawson in Swiss-German while we were decorating," Jack answers for her. No words form on her lips as she looks Nico up and down when a smile forms on his lips. She swears her cheeks get hot when he looks over at her.

She has no idea why she gets tongue-tied around the Swiss captain. He's been around since she and Jack started dating. She should be used to seeing him and talking to him by now.

Maybe it's that damn accent or the fact that there are no words in the English language that could describe how hot he looks in his suit and fresh haircut. The dimple that forms when he smiles makes her lose her mind every single time.

If she weren't dating Jack, she'd absolutely go for his captain. She's always had a thing for European guys.

"Well, it was frustrating that he wasn't listening," Nico says, pulling her out of her head. "You know when I get frustrated, I switch languages. It's something that's always happened. Sometimes it's out of my control."

"I'm well aware," Jack laughs, completely unaware that his girlfriend is checking out his captain, or that his captain is checking out his girlfriend.

It's something that started very recently, and neither of them have acted on their thoughts. (Y/N) is very much in love with Jack, but she is allowed to look at other men. As long as she doesn't act on the thoughts she has about other men.

An arm wraps around her waist and she looks up at Jack. "Why don't you go get us drinks and maybe something to eat?" he suggests. "I need to talk to Nico about some strategies for our next game against Columbus."

She nods and spares one last glance at Nico before walking off. She finds the area with the drinks and food. She makes a plate for them to share and orders them both a drink from the bar.

When she turns around with their plate of food and their drinks, she sees that Jack and Nico are still very deep in conversation. Nico looks surprised and confused at whatever Jack is saying to him. Nico does glance over at her then quickly looks away from her and back at Jack.

He nods at something Jack said before Jack turns and walks over to her. He takes one of the drinks and (Y/N) asks, "What was that about? It looked like a much different conversation than strategies about the game with the way Nico looked."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," Jack tells her with a soft kiss to her temple. "Just know that it was a very good and informative conversation between a captain and his alternate. That's all you need to know right now. Let's go eat, yeah?"

She nods and they find a table with Dougie, Erik, Vitek, and their significant others so they can eat. She enjoys the meatball hoagie she made for herself and Jack enjoys the piece of steak she grabbed for him.

The two of them make small conversations with each other and with the people at their table. Dougie compliments Jack on how good the decorations look and he talks all about how fun it was to decorate with Luke, Nico, Dawson, and Jesper.

(Y/N) doesn't realize it at first but her eyes scan the room looking for Nico the first time Jack mentions the captain. She's surprised when she doesn't find him anywhere. She hasn't seen him since he walked away from Jack nearly ten minutes ago now.

"Hey, Jack," she says to grab his attention. He looks over at her. "Have you seen Nico? He's nowhere to be found."

Jack blinks at his girlfriend. "Why are you looking for Nico?" he asks.

"It's just weird that I haven't seen him," she explains. "He's usually walking around and talking to everyone but I haven't seen him since he walked away from the conversation with you."

He swallows a bite of his food and says, "He said something about going to the bathroom. He's probably still there."

She's confused by how Jack is being so casual about his MIA captain. A teammate would go find him and make sure he's okay.

(Y/N) stands up when Jack goes back to talking with Dougie, Erik, and Vitek. She makes her way towards the bathrooms. Dawson walks out of the men's room and she grabs him. "Is Nico in there?" she asks. "Jack said he might be in there."

"Yeah, he's in there," he tells her. "He's freaking out about something but won't tell me what. Where's Jack? I wanna talk to him."

"At the table with Dougie, Erik, and Vitek," she replies. "They're talking about the decorations actually so if you want to go and brag, there you go."

Dawson smiles and heads into the main room.

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment before she slowly pushes open the door to the men's room. She peeks her head in and sees Nico leaning with his hands against the sink counter. His head is down, but he seems to be the only one in the bathroom so she walks in.

The door closing behind her gets Nico's attention. He blinks a couple of times before before he realizes that she's standing in the bathroom with him. "What are you doing in here?" he asks. "Where's Jack?"

"That seems to be a really popular question," she says with a smile on her face. The smile falters when she realizes he's being serious. "He's talking to Dougie, Erik, Vitek, and now probably Dawson. He said you might be in here so I came to check on you to make sure you're okay."

Nico still seems confused as to why she is standing in front of him instead of Jack. "Did he tell you?" he questions.

Now it's her turn to be confused. "Tell me what?" she asks. "He didn't tell me anything. He's actually being really weird and refused to come see if you were okay when I realized you haven't been seen in like ten minutes. Then Dawson said you were panicking about something so that really had me worried. I needed to come check on you."

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his chest. He's taken his suit jacket off and she can't help but look at how the button-up hugs his arms in all the right places. She presses her lips into a line so she doesn't say anything.

The captain squints his eyes at her and says, "I think you should talk to him about the conversation we had. I shouldn't be the one to tell you."

"Now you're being weird," she comments. "Why is everyone being so weird recently? I am really not a fan of-"

Nico crosses the floor in four large strides and pulls her by the back of her neck into a deep kiss, cutting her off from whatever she was about to say.

She gives in because she's always wondered what it would be like to kiss Nico. He's an attractive guy and she's always thought he was attractive.

The dark hair that he's let grow long enough to cover his forehead and form a curtain over his eyes when he looks down. Her fingers play with the ends of his locks on the back of his neck. The dimple in his cheek every time he smiles makes her weak in the knees sometimes. The deep, accented voice makes her wish that she got to hear how it sounds in bed.

She kisses him back after a lapse in her judgement.

The shock of the initial kiss wears off and Nico walks until (Y/N)'s lower back is pressed against the same sink he was leaning on five minutes ago. The kisses exchanged between them are feverish and desperate.

His free hand rests on her waist and she moves to grip the collar of his shirt so he doesn’t move away from her. Nico shoves a thigh between her legs and she has to refrain from grinding against it.

All she wants is to get some pressure on her core, but she doesn’t want this to be over so soon. If she starts to grind on Nico’s thigh, she’ll be coming in seconds.

She jumps up onto the counter behind her because her neck is starting to hurt from craning it to kiss him. His hand slides down to her thigh, his fingers dipping below the skirt of the dress that she’s wearing. She hooks her legs around his waist, and she feels something poke her upper thigh.

A door opens beside them and (Y/N) breaks the kiss to look at whoever walked in the door.

It’s Jack.

Her eyes widen and she pushes Nico away from her. “I-” she begins to say before Jack waves his hand to cut her off. She closes her mouth and tries not to cry.

The realization of what just happened sinks in the longer Jack stays quiet. She cheated on him with his captain. It doesn’t surprise her that he hasn’t said anything. He just looks between the two of them.

“Does she know?” Jack asks, looking behind her at Nico.

“I haven’t told her yet,” Nico says. She turns and looks at him. She’s surprised to find that he doesn’t look terrified at the fact that Jack caught them making out in the men’s bathroom.

Jack’s eyes flicker back to her. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry, baby?” he asks as he walks toward her.

A very surprised and confused (Y/N) says, “You just saw me kissing Nico. Heavily kissing Nico. You caught me cheating on you with your teammate, Jack.”

Through the tears in her eyes, she sees Jack smile. “The conversation with Nico was to tell him that it was okay if he did anything with you,” he tells her. “I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other. It was obvious that you both were thinking the same thing.”

“But-”

“And I offered for him to join us in our bed tonight,” Jack admits, cutting her off. He brushes a piece of hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. “If it’s alright with you, of course. If it’s too much then you don’t have to but I don’t mind sharing you tonight and see where it takes us.”

She blinks away the tears and looks back at a flustered and slightly disheveled Nico. He has a small smile on his face as she realizes that it was okay. Nico knew it was okay to kiss her, and she’s going to get both of them as soon as they leave.

The thought of the two of them working together to take her apart is nearly enough for her to say that they should leave the party right now. The only reason she doesn’t is because they are both leaders of the team and can’t just up and leave just as the party is beginning.

“Jack, if you felt pressured to do this because you think I want this, I-”

“I want you to be happy, (Y/N),” Jack assures her. He cups her jaw in his hands. “It’s Christmas so I thought it would be a nice surprise for you. Plus, Nico is one of my best friends so if I’m going to share you with anyone, I’d like it to be him. You look at him the same way you look at me. I’d figure that I’d give this a try.”

She looks back at Nico, who hasn’t moved but keeps the smile on his face. “I’m okay with this,” he tells her. “Jack basically made me admit to him that I want to fuck you and he said that it was okay. If you don’t want this or if you aren’t okay with this then tell us and we don’t have to do anything.”

The thing is that she has wanted to get fucked by Nico. She just didn’t know how badly she wanted it until the opportunity presented itself.

“When can we leave?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jack and Nico make some excuse as to why they have to leave the party. (Y/N) is just along for the ride. Her body is already buzzing with anticipation of what will happen when they get to the apartment she and Jack share.

It takes nearly fifteen minutes for Jack to drive them to the apartment. She sits beside him in the passenger seat while Nico sits in the back behind Jack.

He reaches over the center console about five minutes into the drive and rests a hand on (Y/N)’s exposed thigh, right under the end of the skirt. She looks over at him and smiles. Jack’s eyes stay on the road as he squeezes her thigh. “Such a tease,” she giggles.

“Says you,” Jack replies with a smile on his lips.

She glances back at Nico, whose eyes are on Jack’s hand. His own hand was on her thigh not even a half an hour ago. The bathroom makeout comes back to her full force and her body shakes.

If that’s what Nico can do to her in two minutes, she isn’t ready for when he can take his time with her.

Jack pulls (Y/N) against him as soon as they walk into their shared apartment. She smiles and hears the front door close behind her. Jack looks behind her at Nico and says, "You don't have to just stand there, you know. You can come over. She's yours tonight too and you have my permission to do whatever you want to her as long as she's okay with it."

That's not something that (Y/N) ever expected to hear let alone hear out of Jack's mouth. That she's Nico's tonight too. She gets both of them. Two of the hottest men she's ever seen.

With permission from Jack, Nico takes the few steps over to the two of them. She turns her head and looks back at Nico, whose hands rest on her waist. She noses at his jaw so he looks at her instead of his hands. His curious eyes meet hers and she gives him a small smile.

She feels Jack's fingers on her jaw and he turns her head back to face him. "If you're uncomfortable with something-" he begins to say.

"Shut up and take me to bed," she interrupts. "Please."

He leans in and ravishes her mouth with his. His hands are on her jaw as he kisses her. They eventually slide into her hair and curl into the brown locks. She lets out a soft whine against her boyfriend's lips when she feels Nico's fingers trail down over her waist to her thighs. He presses soft kisses to her jaw and neck.

(Y/N) puts a hand on Jack's chest and pushes him toward their room. She grabs Nico's hand with her free hand and pulls him behind her. The three of them stumble through the dark apartment until they reach the bedroom.

She loses her heels and jacket in the journey to the room while Jack’s shirt gets unbuttoned and Nico loses his suit jacket. Jack picks her up and lays her on the bed as soon as they enter the room.

The kiss breaks in the process and she stares up at the two men in front of her. She bites her swollen lip as she waits for one of them to make a move.

Jack is the one to break the silence between them. “You or me?" he asks.

Nico looks down at her on the bed. "Me," he says, voice thicker than it was before. "My turn." Jack moves aside and lets Nico do whatever he wants.

She's able to smile for about two seconds before Nico crawls up her body and kisses her, continuing where they left off in the bathroom. The kiss is rough and Nico's hand is cupping her jaw. (Y/N) wraps her legs around the Swiss man's waist and digs her heels into the back of his thighs.

He kisses her more deeply than Jack does. Jack is rough, feverish. He constantly ravishes her mouth while Nico, while rough, kisses deeply. He kisses her with intent and lets her know what he wants to do to her.

It surprises her when she realizes that she loves the way they both kiss her.

Her hands run up and down his sides before she reaches between the two of them. With their lips locked, (Y/N) begins to unbutton his shirt. Nico uses his free hand to untuck the shirt from his pants. She shoves it off his body and runs her hands down his arms. His hand run down her thigh then runs up

He's more muscular than Jack is. His arms are bigger and his stomach is more toned. She loves it, but she also loves how Jack is muscular but doesn't completely cover her when he's on top of her.

She is going to get the best of both words tonight, and she cannot wait.

The mattress dips behind her and she feels fingers run through her hair. (Y/N) breaks the kiss and looks up to see Jack sitting on the bed with his fingers in her hair. He's ditched the unbuttoned shirt and suit jacket. Nico's lips attach to her jaw and he trails down her neck to her chest. The dress she's wearing exposes a lot of her cleavage and Nico kisses the exposed skin. Jack leans down and kisses her upside down.

Someone's fingers hook into the thin straps of her red dress and slide them down her arms. Nico pushes the satin fabric to the side and gets his mouth on her nipple. She groans his name against Jack's mouth and he pulls away. She tries to chase his lips but Jack pins her shoulders to the bed.

"Fuck," she sighs when Nico moves to give her other breast some attention. Jack reaches down and gets his hand on the breast that Nico abandoned. She whines when Jack rolls her sensitive nipple between his fingers.

She turns her head to the side notices the bulge in Jack's pants. She reaches behind her and palms him through his pants. She wants to get her hands on him so she blindly tries to get them unbuckled and unbuttoned. "Jack," she whines. "Off."

He moves off the bed so he can get his pants and boxers off. Nico pulls the dress further down her body as Jack sits on the bed. He pulls her against his chest while he leans back against the headboard. The dress comes off her body and Nico throws it to the floor, joining their shirts.

Nico's hungry eyes are on her when Jack moves her legs apart, exposing her ruined panties to the Devils captain. She can feel her core pulse the longer Nico's eyes are on her.

"Pretty, isn't she?" Jack asks as he tucks (Y/N)'s hair behind her ear. A soft hum comes from Nico as he begins to undress. Her eyes rake his body and she wishes that she could touch him.

Jack's fingers trail down over her jaw and neck, between her breasts and down her belly until they reach the waistband of the lace panties. His lips ghost over the swell of her ear. "You're our pretty girl," Jack whispers in her ear

"Our pretty girl," Nico agrees as he climbs onto the bed.

Our pretty girl. She's theirs. Those three words make her entire body shake.

"Come get a taste, Nico," Jack tells his friend. His fingers dip into her panties and he gathers some of the wetness. She watches as he licks up her arousal. "She's ready, like the good girl she is."

Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as a now naked and smiling Nico lays on his stomach. He kisses her inner thighs as Jack turns her head. He kisses her at the same time Nico pushes her underwear to the side.

Nico's tongue runs through her folds and she moans into Jack's mouth. She reaches behind her and wraps one of her hands around his dick. Her other hand flies to Nico's hair when he wraps his lips around her clit and his tongue flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves.

She grinds her hips against Nico's mouth, needing more. She needs so much more.

This feels so much better than she ever thought it would be. Her legs are already shaking and they've only just started. Jack's lips on hers and his hands roaming her naked body. Nico's mouth on her clit. It’s a little overwhelming but it feels amazing.

Then Nico pushes a finger inside of her while his mouth is on her. She gasps and does everything she can not to come just from that. "Fuck," she moans against Jack's mouth. "Nico."

His fingers curl inside of her and her back arches off the bed. She knew he could do a lot of things with his fingers. She didn't know he could do this. Jack’s talented with his fingers, but Nico could have her coming in seconds with his.

(Y/N) breaks the kiss and slides down Jack’s body until she can turn her head and get her mouth on his dick. She licks up the bead of precome that has formed on the tip before she wraps her lips around the fire red tip. A soft groan passes his lips when she begins to move her head.

Every so often, Nico will curl his fingers or suck on her clit and she’ll hum or moan around Jack. Her boyfriend will sigh every time she makes a noise around his cock.

Her body can only hold off an orgasm for so long though. No matter how hard she tries.

The next time Nico curls his fingers in a “come here” motion, she’s coming with Jack’s dick in her mouth and Nico’s fingers in her pussy.

She pulls off Jack's cock and cries out as she comes on Nico's fingers without warning. Her legs shake and she pushes herself against Nico's mouth. She swears she blacks out because of how hard and how suddenly her orgasm hits her.

"Fuck, Nico," she whines as she comes down from her sudden high. She feels him licking up her release and soft sighs pass her lips.

The Swiss captain crawls up her body and captures her lips in a deep but rough kiss. She hums as she tastes herself on his lips. (Y/N) Isn't happy when he pulls away. She watches him lick his lips and smile.

"You taste so good, liebling," he says. She shivers at the use of the nickname. "Fuck, I don't think I'll ever get enough."

A barely there (Y/N) mumbles, "Wanna suck you, Nico."

Nico glances up at Jack, who asks, "Think you can take both of us, baby?" She immediately lifts her head to look up at Jack and frantically nods. Jack smiles at her enthusiasm. "Hands and knees then."

Quickly, she rolls over onto her stomach and does what Jack told her to do. The boys switch their positions. Nico kneels on the bed in front of her while Jack kneels behind her.

She takes Nico's cock in her hand and glances up at him. She knew he had to be packing but she didn't know he'd be this big. She shivers at the idea of him inside of her but takes him in her mouth. Nico gathers her hair into a makeshift ponytail as she begins to move her head.

Behind her, Jack pulls off her panties and runs his dick through her folds, over her already sensitive clit. She hums around Nico's dick as Jack presses into her.

It doesn't feel weird to have Nico's dick in her mouth and Jack's dick inside of her at the same time. She always thought that it would be weird, but it's kind of hot. They're both using her to get off and she's perfectly okay with that. There's already another knot forming in her stomach.

Jack thrusts into her and presses his hands into her lower back. Nico has his fingers in her hair and slowly moves his hips so he's fucking her mouth. Her hand makes up for what she can't fit in her mouth.

"Look at you, (Y/N)," Jack says behind her. "Taking both of us. Such a good girl, isn't she, Nico?"

Nico hums above her and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. "Such a pretty girl taking my cock in her mouth," he replies. "Feels so good.

She screws her eyes shut and just feels. She feels Jack's dick moving in and out of her. She feels herself hollow out her cheeks and suck Nico's dick at the same time Jack moves. They're both thrusting their hips into her and she happily takes whatever they give her.

From behind, Jack leans over her body and presses kisses to her shoulder. She whines around Nico's dick when Jack uses his legs to spread hers further apart. The new angle lets Jack move deeper into her.

"You have no idea how hot you look taking both of us," Jack whispers against her ear. "Fuck, baby. We might have to do this all the time. I think you'd like that. Would you like that?" (Y/N) nods with Nico's cock in her mouth. "I knew you'd like that."

When he gets back on his knees, Jack wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her up to her knees. She whines when Nico's dick slips from her mouth but moans at the new angle. She reaches out for Nico as he says, "Look at you, liebling. Look so pretty getting fucked on your knees."

Her eyes are on Nico in front of her while Jack ravishes her neck with kisses and soft bites. She whines and moans as Jack thrusts into her. Nico crawls up and presses their chests together.

He cups her jaw in his hands and runs his thumbs over her cheekbones while Jack fucks her. Her lips are slightly parted and she lets out soft pants while holding eye contact with Nico.

Nico reaches down between them and gets his fingers on her clit as Jack speeds up his thrusts. "Fuck," she cries out at the pleasure. She gets a hand around Nico's dick and pumps him. Nico kisses her as Jack marks up her neck.

Jack's hands slide around to cup (Y/N)'s breasts. He plays with her nipples and she moans his name against Nico's lips.

She's quickly approaching her second orgasm in about twenty minutes. Her free hand flies to Nico's hair and she holds on for dear life. She's shaky on her knees. Nico realizes this and lays on his back in front of her. Jack lets her go and she's back on her hands and knees. His fingers replace Nico's.

With on hand on Nico's thigh and the other on his dick, she gets her mouth back on him. She sucks harsher than she probably should but Nico enjoys it since he's squirming under her touch.

"Gonna come, baby," Jack pants behind her. "Fuck. Can I fill you?" She hums in approval.

As soon as she feels Jack come inside of her, she's coming around him with a moan. Her vision whites out and she isn't sure what happens after that.

She doesn't know when Jack pulls out or when she collapsed on the bed. Jack is nowhere to be found in the room and Nico is hovering on top of her. He’s kissing her neck and he’s bumping himself to his orgasm.

“Nico, baby,” she breathes out. “Come. Use me to come. It’s okay. Do whatever you want.”

“Wanna fuck you,” he admits. “Please. I’ve waited so long to fuck you, liebling. You don’t have to do anything. Just lay there and look pretty. Take me like the good girl you are.”

She nods and whispers a “yeah”. Nico grabs a condom and uses Jack’s come to slip easily inside of her. She gasps as Nico thrusts slowly into her. She winces from the overstimulation but Nico moves carefully so he doesn’t hurt her.

Their eyes meet and suddenly the moment is more intimate than she expected. She has the urge to confess everything she feels for him.

“Nico, I-”

“I know,” he softly says. His fingers brush over her cheekbones. “Me too. Since day one.”

(Y/N) smiles and leans up to capture Nico’s lips in a kiss. It’s a deep kiss, unlike the other kisses they’ve shared. Unlike the kisses she’s shared with Jack tonight.

Nico’s fingers are on her clit again and she’s barreling toward her third orgasm. She doesn’t know how she’s about to come again, but it doesn’t take long since she’s so overstimulated.

He’s right behind her.

She clenches around him and she’s gone for the third time. Her body goes limp at the same time Nico groans and comes into the condom inside of her.

His head falls beside hers and he rolls off of her so he’s laying on the mattress. She’s a panting, tired mess by the time Jack comes back into the room from the bathroom.

(Y/N) looks over at him with her eyes half closed. Jack cleans her up and the mess around her up before he lies down beside her.

“You okay?” Jack questions. “Not too much?”

She looks at her boyfriend before looking at Nico. When she looks back at Jack, she says, “I wanna do it again. Is that okay?”

Jack looks past her at Nico. “As long as you’re okay with it,” Nico tells Jack.

“I didn’t mind,” he says to the both of them. “Next time though, can the two of you wait for me to be in the room before you fuck?”

A laugh passes Nico’s lips and she tiredly smiles.

“Tomorrow.”

They’re all in agreement as they all fall to sleep. Her head is on Jack’s chest and her legs are intertwined with Nico’s under the blanket.

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[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Hi! I really like your work and was wondering if you do requests? If yes, I would like to suggest something...like it's more a prompt but idk why I see this with Kaz Brekker, so prolly Kaz Brekker X Reader or anyone you'd like to do

"If you do that again, I'll throw you out of the window you- what are you doing?"

"Checking how high the drop is, see if it's worth it"

^this or like a rendition of it or something and you can put whatever you want in it

BUT I JUST READ "HUSH HUSH" AND THE WRITING IS SO BEAUTIFUL, ESPECIALLY THE ENDING

Thank you for requesting. I apologize for the wait.

Kaz Brekker x reader

angst, fluff, Kaz having feelings, hurt and comfort

The gloomy sky hung over Ketterdam like a noose. The filth of the streets complimenting the grungy grey with drip-stained rooftops bridging the space between murky sky and muddled ground.

You stepped onto the dock, legs like jelly from being out at sea for so long. Kaz was waiting for you, scowling and growling about the harbor. His disgruntled stare catches first on the scuffed heel of your boot as you lower yourself onto the tattered wooden planks of the dock. Then his eyes drift up to the gleam of the sunlight in your hair and the redness of your sun ravaged cheeks.

He'd think to call you beautiful but he's so angry right now he can hardly stand still. "You imbecile!" He seethes, teeth clenched and lips drawn back in a snarl.

Jesper drops onto the dock behind you, eyes wide with fright and mouth thinned in resignation. Another day, another job gone wrong. You'd been off your game for a few days now but this last heist put Kaz at his wit's end.

"Easy, Kaz," Inej murmurs as she moves out from behind Jesper. "Everyone did bad today."

You think you catch Kaz's eye twitch subtly. His murderous gaze lands on Miss Ghafa and then moves to Jesper.

"You're lucky we're in public." He turns and begins to limp his way down the dock.

A good sum of money had just gone down the drain. Some jewelry had been taken from a merchant's wife and she'd desperately wanted it back. The merchant offered to pay more than the jewelry was worth pawned and had enticed Dirtyhands into accepting the job. It was an easy job. Simple.

So why had it gone so poorly?

Well, for starters it'd been raining. The rooftops were slick and unfit for climbing. Even Inej had been struggling. Visibility was low which made things difficult for Jesper. The location and party was another thing entirely. An island, hard to get on and off of discreetly, was jammed full of gaudy lads and ladies prancing about a wedding venue.

The jewelry, a diamond necklace and matching pair of earrings all of which were worth your weight in kruge, were the last thing. They dangled from the lobes and clung to the fat throat of the bride. Difficult to procure.

You followed the tacky creature around the venue, trying to get in close enough to nab the items but the damn wedding party blocked you at every turn.

They complained noisily about the rain and about how it would ruin the wedding. Kaz hounded you about obtaining the pieces. You caught glimpses of him everywhere: tucked into an alley, ducking into the kitchens, stalking through the gardens.

You became a target of suspicion. None of the other guests knew you and you didn't have a plus one. Not to mention your constant approaching and then backing away from the bride couldn't have gone unnoticed.

It all came to a head when you finally got in close enough and made a grab for the pieces. The bride was in her dressing room after the ceremony, stripping off the necklace and earrings before slipping behind her the ornate dressing screen to step out of the frilly white dress. You hurriedly entered the room, not wanting to try Kaz's patience, and snatched the jewelry off the vanity.

The bride heard you come in and ripped back the folding screen. She saw you stuff the glittering diamonds into your pockets and screamed "THIEF!" for the whole island to hear.

You grimaced and dashed from the room but it was too late. All the guests were made aware of your juvenile failure at stealing and the struggle to get off the island began. In the hysteria that ensued, Kaz had gotten separated from the team so you returned on two separate boats. Hence his impatient prowl of the docks.

The trip back to the Slat was completely silent. You brooded over your failure. What was wrong with you? Why had you been so stupid?

The crew dispersed upon arrival, locking themselves in their rooms to mull over the mission. Kaz tapped your calf with his cane and nodded towards the stairs. The fix of his jaw and his glowering eyes told you all you needed to know.

You stomped up to his office, already angry because he was going to berate you more than you already had. Kaz slams the door behind you. "What is going on with you? You've been like this all week."

"I know."

"That's all you've got to say?"

"What else is there to say?"

Kaz's face goes red with rage. "You cost us the job! How can you not have anything to say? I should knock your teeth out and cut off your fingers for this! It was easy. How could you possibly have messed up this bad!"

"I'm sorry." You feel tears burning.

"That's not going to fix this. I can't have you on this team if you're going to be inconsistent. A mistake like this could cost us much more. Someone could die and that's on you."

You pull the necklace and earrings from your pocket and drop them on Kaz's desk. His eyes flicker to the diamonds and then back to you. He's upset you. He didn't mean to but all he can think about is if you had been caught. He'd have to go through so much trouble to get you back. And he would.

Gladly.

But what if you got hurt. What if they stuck you in the gallows or shipped you off somewhere he could not reach. But that had not happened. It was not physical pain nor the thought of prison sentence that was making you cry. It was him.

You were both aware of Kaz's feelings. Neither of you said anything but you both knew from the tender brushes of palms and long lasting gazes that something was lurking under the surface.

"Just," Kaz swallows when you turn away from him. "If you do that again-- mess up like that-- I'll throw you out of the window you... what are you doing?"

He watches you cross the room to the window, where rain drips from the soaked wooden window frame. "Checking how high the drop is," You glance back at him, fighting tears and trying to bring on a smile. "see if it's worth it."

Kaz sighs. There you are. Trying to make light of the situation. He looks at the heap of jewels on his desk. You did retrieve what he asked. He'd still get his money. And if he played his cards right he could still have you.

"Come're." He waves you over. The leather of his gloves groaning a little.

You arrive in front of him and Kaz raises a palm to your cheek. He doesn't touch, only lingers over the warm skin. He juggles emotions, anxiety and love hashing it out. He settles for a feather light sweep over your temple and a barely-there kiss to your forehead.

"Try not to provoke me."

"You wouldn't kill me."

"I don't even want to think about it."

#six of crows #shadow and bone #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker imagines #crooked kingdom #yourfellowfandomfiend

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter two

summary: you decided to meet luca, taking him up on his offer to return the favor, and it gives the both of you the opportunity to get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2777

a/n: for an america's indepedence day, have a hot brit and a love story that takes place in denmark lmao. okay so now we're all caught up with what i wrote for the headcanon and boy do i have some surprises in store for you next. thank you so much for all of the reactions to chapter one and the headcanon. this story has weaseled its way into my heart and has taken over my brain. i'm writing it for me but it's nice to hear others are enjoying it too. anyways, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

chapter one | masterlist | chapter three

“You have to go!” Jesper insists with the kind of conviction of a damn good lawyer. 

“I don’t have to anything,” you reply, making sure to emphasize the word ‘have.’

“No, you have to go,” Mathilde chimes in, a little softer, a little kinder than her brother’s earlier encouragement. 

After your post-shift meeting, everyone had gone home, save for the three of you – the Mikkelson twins cornering you about Luca’s thank-you-card proposition.

“Well, since you both keep harping on it, why don’t you come with me?” you suggest, in an attempt to shift the focus off of you. 

Your eyes scan their faces, trying to get a read on the both of them as Jesper and Mathilde exchange a pointed look, having the kind of non-verbal exchange that only comes from having shared every moment of their lives together.

“What?” you ask, looking back and forth from Mathilde to Jesper again.

“It wasn’t addressed to us,” Mathilde points out with a shrug, a sly look on her face. “It was only addressed to you.”

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Jesper adds with a smirk. 

“He doesn’t have a crush!” you protest without hesitation, your heart seizing for a moment. 

“A talent crush,” Mathilde reasons, knowing that anything more than a talent-crush would talk you out of going entirely. 

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he did?” Jesper continues, much to both you and Mathilde’s chagrin. “I mean, when was the last time you got-, ow!”

Sharply cut off by an elbow to the rib, Jesper glares at his sister before returning his attention to you. 

“I’m just saying! He’s sexy. He’s a chef at one of the best restaurants in the world. You could do worse for yourself,” Jesper clarifies, earning another glare from his sister. 

He has a point, but you ignore it, because you’re not really sure if you’re ready to go there just yet. You think it over, and after giving it another moment, you open your mouth to speak again. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” you sigh in resignation, earning a few celebratory comments and gasps from the twins. “Are you both happy now?”

And that’s how – after at least an hour of stressing out about what to wear to a place like this – you find yourself standing in front of a closed restaurant on a day where almost everything is closed in Denmark. You’d settled on a pair of wide leg denim pants, a square toed boot appropriate for navigating the Copenhagen cobblestone, and a white and black striped sweater, slightly tucked into the front of your jeans that hangs loosely from your frame. 

Classic. Put-together enough for a two-starred Michelin restaurant on closed day. Certainly not a date kind of outfit.

Luca proves once again to be punctual as ever as he greets you at the front door, right on time. He wears a blue t-shirt that seems to emphasize his already intense blue eyes with a navy-colored apron layered over top of it. 

“You came,” are the first words he says to you, a wide smile spreading across his lips as soon as he sees you.

“Yeah I uh-, thank you. For inviting me,” you stammer, nervously searching for the right words. 

“Thank you for coming. Well, c’mon then!” he encourages, nodding towards the inside as he holds the door open for you. 

“Did you find the place alright?” Luca asks you, as you follow him. 

He leads you into the vaulted basement – the space that makes up the Danish-style, fine dining restaurant that’s been a leader in innovation. You follow Luca through the closed dining room, back into the kitchen, and then into the pastry room as you answer his question, mentioning that it wasn’t too long of a walk and that you found the place just fine.

As soon as you see what he’s been working on, it renders you near-speechless. You can see that he’s been hard at work – on his day off, no less – almost as if he knew you would come. 

“Would you like to have a seat?” he offers, gesturing towards the pastry bench. 

“Uh.. yeah. That’d be great. I-, um… thank you… again, for inviting me,” you answer, watching as he brings a stool over to it, setting up a little space for you. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. It’s really the least I can do. Think after this we’re uh… what 5 to 1?” he replies casually, in reference to the fact that he’ll only have fed you once in comparison to the amount of times he’s come to the restaurant. 

You chuckle, returning with a playful, “Well, I don’t think anyone’s keeping score.”

He sends a crooked smile your way, one that you know you’ll be thinking about for the rest of the week, before exchanging a laugh with you. 

“Just think of it as a thank you. For the great meals. For the hospitality,” he continues, as you watch him plate his gelee-focused dish. First the chocolate, then yellow, white, and green. A carefully tweezed wafer on top. 

“This is a shiso gelee with a chocolate mint ganache, finished with a thin slice of marzipan, and a caramel cracker. It’s from our current menu,” Luca introduces, walking you through the dish like you walked him through your crispy rice and trumpet mushroom dish. 

He pushes the plate-that-looks-more-like-a-pedestal towards you for you to try, his eyes meeting yours. Luca studies you carefully as you pick up the fork he’s set out for you, cutting through the gelee for your first bite. He watches as you scoop up a little of the ganache, making sure to get a bit of the cracker as well. 

You’re creating a perfect bite – one with a little bit of everything – just like he’d done with the first dish of yours he had a month or so ago. 

As you raise the fork to your lips, taking your first bite, the vibrant flavors hit your tongue with surprise and brilliance that you weren’t expecting. It’s somehow new, innovative, yet nostalgic all at once. 

“Oh my god,” you say with a sigh of pure bliss. You savor each and every flavor, taking your time with your first bite before continuing with: “It’s almost like-.”

“A minty snickers bar?” he offers up with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

“That’s exactly it!” you cry out with joy. 

He smiles proudly, “Yeah, it’s a nice dish.”

“So how long have you been doing this? Cooking…? Or have you done Pastry the whole time?” you ask, digging into the rest of the gelee. 

“About fourteen years… give or take. Started when I was a kid… just washing dishes… was a bit of a rebel…. The kitchen gave me a place to land,” he shares with an ease and charm that makes you feel like you could tell him all of your secrets. 

“Yeah, no I-, I get that,” you agree, enjoying your second bite of Luca’s shiso dish. 

“Gave my mum a little peace of mind. That’s for sure. Don’t think I was an easy kid to raise,” he continues as you listen. 

“Didn’t start pastry till about three years ago or so. Went mostly the fine dining route… worked my way up to sous position at a really great place, but wasn’t interested in moving up the ranks in that regard. Decided it was time to try something different.”

You nod with respect for his decision for change. 

“Where’d you grow up?” you ask curiously, watching him wipe down the pastry bench with a clean towel as he begins to prepare for a second dish.

“London,” he answers. 

“Oh! I uh, lived there for a few years, actually,” you say, sharing a familiar smile with him. 

“What about you? Where’d you grow up? And how long have you been cooking for?” he asks, shifting the focus of the conversation to you. 

“Boston,” you reply. 

He hums in response, “I’ve never been. What was that like?”

“Boston is great. Good weather, great food, interesting people. ‘S actually where I learned how to cook. My mom’s a single parent so… I spent a lot of time at our neighbor’s house… and their restaurant. They still own this Italian restaurant that’s like… been in the family for a hundred or so years and I practically grew up there,” you explain, sharing parts of yourself – of your story – in return. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, an amused look on his face. 

“Yeah, we hung out there a lot when we were kids – me and my best friend. Then when I was old enough to work, I marched in one day after school and pitched myself for a job, demanding that I cook and that I’d accept nothing less” you reminisce trying your best to recreate the bold confidence of your fifteen year old self.

Luca chuckles in response, “That’s incredible,”

“I was a rather precocious child,” you add, laughing with a fondness for that previous version of you.

He smiles, “Yeah, I know the feeling well.”

Luca clears his throat, pulling out a clean bowl and beginning to plate something new. He explains that this one is a savory dish, starting with a fermented sourdough cracker as he walks you through the flavor profiles of each component, mentioning that it’s got to be one of his favorites on the menu so far. 

“I’m up for sharing if you are,” you suggest, in response to his last comment. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

You watch as Luca picks up another fork, digging into the dish with you. There’s an intimacy that comes from sharing a meal with someone – eating off the same plate, enjoying the same sensory experience, quite literally breaking bread – that makes Luca feel less and less like a stranger to you with each bite. You still can’t believe that he’s done this for you – that you’re here – and while you’re not sure why, you lean into a softness, allowing yourself to enjoy it while it’s happening. 

“Did you go to culinary school?” you ask him, over your last few shared bites.

“No, what about you?” he replies quickly. 

“No, I actually majored in business,” you answer, earning a hum from him. 

“Huh…” he sounds, with a raise of both eyebrows in surprise. 

“I know…” you groan, with a playful eye roll more so directed at yourself. “My first career was in finance… account management. Then I did the whole investment thing for a while… it was uh… really sexy stuff, I know.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who would’ve been happy doing something like that,” Luca observes, only surprising you a little that he’d be able to pick up on something like that so quickly. 

“Oh no. I wasn’t. I was miserable,” you echo in agreement. You take a breath, and a beat, before explaining. “It was more of… a wish fulfillment thing, I think. For my mom. I mean, it wasn’t my dream, by any means. But having stability was important to me, to my mom…. To my partner at the time.”

“And now?”

You wait a beat before answering. 

“And now… I’m just… figuring it out as I go.”

Your eyes flicker over the ‘every second counts’ sign that hangs on the wall while Luca busses the table once again, sharing that he’s got one more dish he’d like for you to try. You settle into a quiet rhythm as you sit back and allow him to provide an experience unlike any other you’ve had. You watch him carefully as he moves around the kitchen prepping for his last dish, taking in each and every tattoo visible on his arms. 

“Every second counts,” you speak out loud, returning your attention to the sign. 

“Yeah,” he nods, turning his attention to where you’re looking. “It’s uh-, something an old head chef of mine used to say. Really stuck with me.”

You nod in agreement as he pulls out a final dessert plate. 

“‘S actually what brought me to you,” he continues, in reference to the sign. “An old friend of mine called me for a favor. He’s opening a new restaurant and wanted their patissier to come stage here for a bit.” 

Luca begins plating his final dish using a few pastry rings, a clean pair of tweezers, and berries left macerating in a deli container with a laser focus that you’d expect from a pastry chef at a two-starred Michelin restaurant.

“We got into… this whole conversation about inspiration. How to find it. Where to find it. I told him he’s gotta be open… to everything. To things out there. That that’s how you succeed in this industry – how you set yourself apart,” Luca adds, impressing you with his precision of plating while sharing something so personal. 

“It reminded me that… it’s been a while since I’ve opened myself up to… well… anything outside of this place.”

“No, yeah, I totally get it. It’s easy to get lost in it – it being the four walls of your restaurant. Running a restaurant is relentless. One minute you put your head down and the next…” you empathize with him. 

“It’s three weeks later.”

“Yeah.”

“Which leads me to why I asked you here,” Luca segways, as he finishes his final dish. “I ran into a little bit of writers’ block – or rather, chef’s block, if you will – working on our Summer menu.” 

He presents the dish towards you, earning a gasp from you as you take in the stunning creation.

“Knew I needed to get out of here for a beat. Get out of my head. Get some new perspectives.”

“Is this for your new menu?” you ask, your eyes devouring the cake-based dish first. 

“Maybe… just something I’ve been working on – something that’s been floating around in my head a while,” he shrugs, watching you carefully as he tries to search your face for any kind of reaction. 

You dig your fork into the spongey, tea-soaked, circular layered cake, raising it to your lips and immediately finding pure joy as you taste it. 

Yuzu. Earl Grey. The cake is almost like a lady finger – tiramisu-like in the way that it eats – filled with a yuzu curd in between each layer of cake, then finished with what you can only assume is a sort of black sesame dust that he’s sifted over top of the dish. 

“Woah,” is all that comes out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” Luca questions, unable to hide the smile that spreads across his lips. 

“Yeah uh… Why does this feel so familiar? It’s like… you’re reading my mind with this one,” you ask, your eyes wide savor each note. 

“Well, it should. Feel familiar, that is. It’s inspired by you,” Luca explains, treading carefully around the last few words. 

“What do you-?” you begin to ask, before the words leave you. 

You half expect him to tell you he’s joking, and you can’t tell whether or not it’s a blush running across his high cheekbones that you spot, as he turns his attention elsewhere. He begins moving around the kitchen, eager to begin cleaning up after himself to recover from the sheer vulnerability he feels from sharing this with you. 

Was this why he’d invited you here? 

“Luca,” you say, your words stopping him as he turns back to you. 

“What’s up?” he asks, so casually, as if he hadn’t just called you his muse. 

"All of this... you did all of this for me…. Why?" you muster up the courage to ask, the words falling out of your mouth with a weight you don’t expect. 

He takes a beat, afraid of coming on too strong, considering you’ve only just met, yet wanting nothing more than to tell you the truth.

Luca sighs, choosing the latter, before laying it all out on the table.

 "Your food is inspired and I don’t think I’ve had something this inspired in a long time,” he explains before pausing. “Your passion for Italian cuisine… weaving in the bits and pieces of yourself and approaching it from different culinary perspectives? You inspired me.” 

He takes another beat. 

“And as chefs, this is what we do. We feed each other." 

You’re speechless, but you can feel yourself nodding in agreement as you mumble out the most reverent ‘thank you’ that you can muster. You can feel it – that this is the beginning of, well, you're not quite sure what – but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.

“Luca?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He nods, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. 

“Cheers.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

[gazpachoandbooks]

Okay so how many times a day do you think about Jesper loving and idolizing and trying to impress Kaz at every turn and only getting glares and reprimands and cold shoulders in return. And Jesper trying so hard to understand why Kaz does the things he does and yet he never fully confides in him and it hurts so much because Jesper needs him to because Kaz matters so much to him. BUT.

BUT.

But Kaz is boiling on the inside every time Jes makes a dumb mistake or loses his money to the wrong people or relies too little on real odds and too much on luck.

Kaz can't look Jesper in the eye and tell him why he called him Jordie. Kaz can't tell him that he had a brother. Kaz can't talk about the way he lost him. Because Jes is so close to the precipice all the time and holy shit he can't lose Jes the way he lost Jordie.

Not again.

He had two brothers and he watched one of them fall over to the abyss and he'll be damned if he lets the other follow.

And so he is mean and rude and hurtful and aggressive and elusive because they speak different languages. Kaz yells at Jesper to step away from the edge, to listen to him, to STAY BY HIS SIDE. Jesper hears Kaz yelling at him to GO AWAY.

And in the end the only conclusion Jes can reach is he doesn't matter enough to Kaz. And in the end Kaz treats Jes the way he does BECAUSE HE MATTERS TOO MUCH.

#i lose so much sleep because of them i'm telling you #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #kaz & jesper #soc #ck #six of crows #six of crows spoilers #soc spoilers #crooked kingdom #crooked kingdom spoilers #ck spoilers #jordie rietveld #grishaverse

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

please consider...... angsty fic where Jesper is in a gunfight and actually gets shot for once. it might only be in the side but just the sudden panic he'd get of realising he's not invincible and Y/N did a whole freaking out and leaving before this could happen. Y/N being scared for good reason..... waking up with Y/N at his bedside????????

For One Last Good Night With You - Jesper Fahey

Content Warnings: Angst. Canon Compliant Violence, Threat And Injury. Explicit Language. Not Beta/Proof Read.

It was such a ridiculous fight. Jesper couldn't have been more convinced that there was nothing less worthy of arguing over than this. But argued about it you did. You had damn near lost your mind trying to make him understand and he just couldn't fathom it.

Did you doubt him? Because every ounce of concern you had, every fear you expressed, it sounded like you thought he couldn't handle himself. It sounded like a dismissal of his capabilities. He couldn't hear it. He couldn't even indulge it. Jesper Fahey, for all his gambling debt, and all the reasons to doubt the facts, might not consider himself lucky, but invincible? That he was sure of.

Jesper spent his days feeling like nothing could touch him, because nothing had. Every job with Kaz, he might have barely made it out of so many of them, but he made it out. He has been out gunned more times than he can count and he left without a thread of his jacket torn, while others did not have that courtesy of that.

Although your concern for him was moving at first, the way you were so clearly worried about him coming home, from what you considered an unnecessarily dangerous job, the amusement he had at it slipped away when he saw just how serious you were. You were worried. Worried so deep and so true that you tried your best to dissuade him from this job, and that should have told Jesper something. But what it told him was you doubted his ability to handle himself. It showed a lack of faith in him. That was so far from the truth, but Jesper wasn't able to see that. Not while you're telling him over and over that you cannot handle the idea of him not coming home. All he could wonder is when had he ever given you cause to doubt him? When had he ever not come back to you? Why did you doubt him?

You had wanted him to see the insanity in the plan, in the odds, not doubt himself. You had tried every type of reasoning you could think of to help Jesper see that you believed in him, but you were scared, and you had all the reasons in the world to be. Something felt wrong here, something felt off and miscalculated and you couldn't explain it, but you were scared for him, scared for him in a way you haven't been before. You wouldn't call yourself superstitious, but you felt it in your bones like a bad omen and you didn't know how to make him see. And the more you tried, the less he heard, the more he seemed determine to prove himself, determined to throw himself into the line of fire. So you walked out.

You walked out into The Barrel without another word because each word seemed to just make more problems than the last and you could not push him even further into this. You had to get out of that argument and that room before you completely broke down. You couldn't change his mind and all your trying seemed to make it worse, so you had to leave. You had to get far away from those words and that feeling, and you had to just hope, hope and saints maybe even pray that Jesper could be lucky this time. Even if luck was not something you believed in, that anyone in The Barrel really believed in. You just hoped that maybe it was enough.

He had been too distracted, and he had been too cocky and the mixture of both on his shoulders are a too dangerous mix for this evening, for this plan, for the eight men he counted as seven.

The bullet landed in the higher side of his left shoulder, and the pain is not remotely close to the shock that hits Jesper with the same force of the bullet. He actually let himself get hit, he hasn't gone that before. He has never felt the way the bullet tears through muscle upon entry and again on exit. The shot is clean and barely hits him low enough to do more than graze, but the blood dripping down on his ruffled shirt is very real and the pain is not something he can ignore.

"Jesper?" Comes Inej's voice from the dark, but his vision is swimming and blurred to the point where he cannot tell if Inej is being her shadow like self or if he is losing consciousness.

He cannot remember a time in his life when his breathing has been this shallow, this laboured, this difficult. He knows it's panic, at least a part of him knows it, but the bigger part of him right now is screaming inside his head. This cannot be how he dies. Not here. Not like this. Not leaving things the way he had with you.

"Jesper!" Inej's voice is louder now, and her hand grips his arm with such a suddenness that if Jesper was in his body he would've reacted so fiercely to. But Jesper is miles away, the pain throbbing, the panic squeezing his chest tighter with every breath, his mind with you.

Jesper thinks maybe Inej is trying to say more words but her voice is losing out against the heaviness of his breath and the sound in his head.

Not like this. Not now. Not like this.

"Please," the word falls from his lips as if every other part of his pleading had been said out loud. If Inej responds, if anyone does, Jesper doesn't hear them before he blacks out.

Fuck.

"Out of the woods? Out of the fucking woods? Brekker if I wasn't preoccupied I would ring your neck," you shout, across the slat. Nina is working her hardest on Jesper's shoulder but the pain lurches him awake. He goes to speak but Nina catches him and fixes him with a look.

"Not a word, luckshot," she tells him. "Not a damn word."

"You're assuming you could get that close to me," Kaz responds. Jesper hadn't been conscious for the Kaz the others had seen a few hours before, the Kaz who saw Jesper, no colour in his eyes, laid out and bleeding on the new rug. The Kaz who's voice wavered, who's attachments became all too clear as he nearly let his cane fall from his viper grip.

"Brekker if he died, nothing could have stopped me from ending you," you warned.

"It wasn't his fault," Inej tried, her knees pulled into her chest, head resting on them, arms wrapped tightly around them, holding herself still and together. She trusted Nina, but nearly seeing Jesper bleed out in an alleyway in The Barrel had taken it out of her. She saw Jesper as a brother, and she had already lost one of those. Kaz felt very much the same but tried to bury it under anger. Anger that fizzled out before it reached yours, it flickered in comparison to your rage.

"I told him, I told all of you," your words sound sore now, like your throat is giving way to them. Jesper knows that sound, even if he wishes he didn't. You'd been crying, and not a gentle cautious, keep yourself contained type of cry, no you had screamed your lungs raw.

He hadn't wanted to say goodbye, and you hadn't want to lose him, both the same. "Inej, Kaz, step outside please," Nina says. "I'm trying to work here and you're not helping."

Inej looks to Nina as if to ask what she had done to be sent away, but Nina just eyed back Kaz and Inej understood: she was being sent to keep Kaz calm, to not risk Kaz trying to get revenge before he'd thought everything through.

Jesper feels himself slipping again, the pain making him giveaway and he tries to speak your name before he succumbs to it, but nothing leaves his mouth, and it's just darkness again.

When Jesper wakes again, he can feel the bandage on his shoulder, he can feel how everything is back where it should be, blood staying inside his body, but it still hurts worse than any hangover. He tries to sit up but only then notices the weight on his chest. You're resting on him, you must've fallen asleep waiting for him to wake. You're exhausted, Jesper has no way to tell how long he had been out, and how long he had made you worry. A thousand different apologies climbed into his mind but not a single one would do, not a single one was good enough.

"Jes?" You mumble as you wake from the steady breathing in Jesper's chest changing to a faster pace.

"I'm awake," he tells you. You look at him and he can see that anger, the anger he had seen before he left for the job, the anger he heard you have when spitting venom at Kaz before, and it melts away.

"You scared me you asshole," you tell him, bundling the fabric of his shirt in your hands.

He places a hand delicately on the side of your face and then without the grace or cocky demeanor you're used to, he pulls you into a kiss. A kiss that tells you that he knows how close he came, how much he scared you, a kiss that tells you he is sorry and he never wants to put you through that again. "I'm sorry Ace," he whispers. A smile breaks on your lips, Ace, his lucky card, you'd always had mixed feelings on that nickname, as you did on anything he related back to gambling, but you'd never been so glad to hear it fall from his lips.

"I love you Jesper Fahey," you tell him plain. He looks back at you, and it's not that he ever doubted it, it's not that you'd never said it. It's just... Hearing it now, felt like the first time, felt like the beginning of something and the culmination of it the same.

"I love you," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, "and I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry, just be save... Be alive... Be here."

"Okay," he agrees. "Okay."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #jesper fahey #six of crows jesper #jesper x reader #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey fanfiction #jesper fahey my man you are so ridiculously sexy i wish i could be you #angst #angst with a happy ending

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Fireleaf (Part Twenty)

Hi! Here’s Part Twenty! @greeneyedivy and I love you all and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Some violence.

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“I knew it. I fucking knew she couldn’t have received those letters.”

Eris watched Linden pace before him, arms of pure, corded muscle rippling as he clenched his hands at his sides. The male was…certainly a presence. Domineering.

“She’s been missing you.” Eris said. “She thought…”

“That I hadn’t bothered to write? I should have tried harder.”

The two males had spoken for barely an hour, Eris sharing details as promptly as he could, but the short conversation was confirmation enough that Linden adored Y/N just as fiercely as she did him. A conflict had shadowed his dark eyes, and he looked…regretful. Troubled. Eris didn’t know what to say to make it better. Or whether it was even possible to do so.

“It isn’t your fault that my father intercepted the letters.” He’d try, anyway. “None of us could have known what—”

“Except I did know.” Linden cut him off, whirling around to face him. “I did.”

Eris stared back at him, waiting for the explanation that lay behind the haunted expression. He’d told Linden everything there was to know, but there was a stark sense of…something else. It seemed to fill the room, rob it of air.

Or perhaps that was just the male’s exquisite build—

“I should have stepped in sooner. Warned Y/N when I had the chance.” Linden’s words snapped Eris out of his thoughts. He shook his head. “…her father came to me, about a year before she was informed of her engagement. It was when the family business had truly gone under, and Jesper was becoming desperate.” He stopped his pacing, slumping into a chair. “You see, my family is…not good. They’re scum of the earth criminals. They peddle things like Faebane knowing damn well what damage it can do. I got away from them because I wanted nothing to do with it. But Jesper found out somehow. He started asking me questions. How these substances were created, what kind of profit they made. I told him I had nothing to do with it, but he still continued to ask. I knew. I knew he was up to something. I should have told Y/N right away.”

Eris knew all too well how easy it was to fall into a churning cycle of should haves. But it was equally pointless. It couldn’t change a thing.

“Be that as it may.” He said quietly. “You couldn’t have known the true scope of the situation. None of us could. All we can do, now, is try to fix it.”

Linden studied him. There was something so endless and assessing in those dark, uptilted eyes. It left Eris feeling strangely…bare. He shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the heat that spread over the back of his neck. 

“What do you need me to do?” Linden asked. “Whatever it is…for Y/N, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”

Eris didn’t doubt it for one second. “We’re working on how we’re going to take down my father. Tamlin is gathering information. Lucien is meeting with Y/N to tell her everything. All I know, right now, is that she’s going to need you. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

It was without hesitation that Linden rose from his seat, once again seeming to command the light and air in the room with his broad figure. He stood tall, meeting Eris’s gaze.

“Then we’d better get moving, lordling.”

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It was a rather intimate thing, Eris had surmised, travelling closely side-by-side, just his companion and the stretch of road for company. A way to truly get to know someone. Mere hours had built a rapport between him and Linden that was…new to him. Exciting.

They’d ridden for an entire day, and Eris was physically done-in. He wanted to be back on home turf, to bathe in an actual tub rather than in a stream. To eat proper food. It would be a bare-faced lie to say that he hadn’t been tempted to take the easy route and winnow himself and Linden back to the estate, but…whatever they were to face when they got there, he wanted every bit of his magic reserve intact. And if that meant another day or two of monotonous travel on horseback, then so be it. 

They’d stopped for the night under a canopy of trees, hoping to catch at least a few hours of rough, restless sleep before they set off again. Eris had thought that he was well accustomed to nature, to camping amongst the elements, but Linden…there were no words for the refined ruggedness of both his appearance and personality. A male who could truly take anything in his stride. 

Footsteps approaching from behind roused Eris slightly from his fatigue. He glimpsed up as Linden rounded the fire, returning from his wash in the lake. Eris’s heavy eyes became a tad more alert as they landed on the male. The glorious sculpt of muscles, the brown skin nicked and marked with scars, the rivulets of water running down his chest—

Godlike — the word bleated in Eris’s mind. Linden was godlike.

He couldn’t force his eyes away as the male grabbed a discarded shirt and used it to mop up the lingering water droplets that rolled down, down his pectorals and over his abs, further still until they dipped beneath the vee—

Linden’s dark eyes flicked up, and a smirk toyed with his lips. He knew the redhead was staring; had been doing a lot of staring, in fact. He may have deliberately stretched his arms over his head as he faced him properly.

“See something you like, Vanserra?”

Eris greatly resented the dusting of pink that he knew had appeared on his cheeks. He’d never been with a male — and that wasn’t for lack of fantasising about doing so. There was just…so much pressure on him to be the perfect male; the perfect future High Lord that would produce just-as-perfect heirs. It was that snag which had stopped him having the courage to explore such desires. 

But here, alone with Linden under the expanse of towering trees…surely he could give in and flirt, at the very least. He was good at flirting.

So he sat back, resting on his hands, and shrugged. “What if I do?”

Linden’s head fell into a tilt, his braids following the movement. “Have you ever been with a male?”

“I haven’t.”

Full lips kicked up into a half-smirk. “Not your bag?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Silence snaked around them as the two of them stared at each other, challenge appearing to spark in both their gazes. There was a beat, a pause, and then Linden let out a deep chuckle that skittered over Eris’s skin like a chill.

“Interesting.” He commented simply.

Eris sat up, curiosity piquing. “Have you?” He asked. “Been with a male?”

“I have.” Linden confirmed. “I enjoy both males and females. But I have a preference for males.”

It was strange — the pinch of thrill that shot through Eris. To hear somebody talk about such matters so openly, so proudly — to talk about it without glancing over their shoulder every few seconds. It made him feel…dangerous. Alive.

Perhaps that was how he found the courage to press, “what do you prefer about them?”

Linden glanced up at him through dark lashes, his body going still. And for a moment, Eris wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. He wanted to kick himself, to take it back—

But then Linden moved. Slowly. Traipsed round to the side of the fire on which Eris sat. Took a seat in front of him. 

He smelled like a heady mix of earth and woodsmoke and moss. The scent hit Eris in a pleasant wave, and he tried not to inhale too sharply at what that, alone, did to him. Tried not to stare too closely at the bare, muscled chest that was now mere inches from his touch.

“Do you really want to know?” Linden asked gruffly. The grit in his voice was like an awakening for Eris.

Eris swallowed. Sat up straighter. “Sure. Why not?”

Linden’s lips twitched, and Eris tracked the movement, wondering what they would feel like against his. He had a full mouth, lips generous and divine-looking. He had to be an excellent kisser. 

“Okay.” The general hummed, edging slightly closer. “I like the responses I can elicit just from blowing on a male’s cock. They try to maintain control, try to rein in their pleasure. But lick just the right spot and they’re begging for more. Begging to cum.”

“…oh.” Eris breathed. He was most definitely hard as a rock, straining painfully against his breeches. He tried to adjust himself, and Linden watched, his smirk widening. 

“I find,” he said, his eyes fully on the tightening of Eris’s breeches, “that there’s an area that most males enjoy. Just below the head. Something about it is so sensitive that you apply a little pressure, and it feels good enough for them to forget their own name.”

Eris’s eyes almost rolled back into his head. Gods, that sounded good. He didn’t know how he’d gone all these years without giving in and exploring such things. He wanted them all, wanted them now. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t a future High Lord with expectation and propriety weighing him down. He wanted Linden’s lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him dry until even the leaves on the trees knew precisely what responses he could elicit. 

And Linden knew that. Could see it on the male’s face. He smiled. “Would you like me to show you, lordling?”

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You could stay here forever.

Forever, in this gamekeeper’s cottage, you and Lucien hiding from the rest of the world. No Beron. No faebane. No forced nuptials to worry over. Just…love. Bliss. 

It had hurt to see the first shafts of daylight pouring through the window. The night in Lucien’s arms had gone too fast. The hours of warmth, of security, were fleeting. 

But he was your mate. And this would all be over soon. Soon, the first signs of a new day would be exciting. 

Mate. The word had entered your mind as you’d sat up in bed. You’d smiled, touching your fingers to your lips, your chest. The cottage was empty and silent around you — Lucien had woken you briefly not long before, whispering that he was going to find some manner of breakfast for the two of you. He’d kissed your head and left you to lightly snooze a while longer, which you had, the ghost of his lips still on your skin. 

You rose, now, with a lightness you hadn’t had this same time a day earlier. Mate, mate, mate. Lucien was your mate. Your love. Your soul.

You briefly readied yourself in the washroom, listening out for the click of the front door. Your lips tugged into a smile when the thud of footsteps carried through.

“Y/N?” The deep caress of Lucien’s voice followed it. Hearing it felt different, somehow, to all the times he’d spoken your name before. Like an oath. A promise. 

You dried your freshly-washed face, hurrying through to greet him. It would be an effort not to launch yourself at him. 

You stopped in the doorway, just…just taking in the sight of him, bathed in the morning sunlight. He was resplendent. Exquisite. His hair cascaded like waves of fire around his golden face. Your eyes snagged on the braid you’d given him, and you smiled. 

“Good morning.” 

He may not have even heard your greeting. He was staring at you, too, russet eyes full of unbridled emotion. He loosened a breath. “You are so godsdamn beautiful.” 

Colour touched your cheeks. “I just woke up.” 

“I know. I think this may just be my favourite version of you.” 

You smiled, lowering your eyes to the floor as he slowly approached. He placed down two wicker baskets before he stopped in front you. His hand gently clasped your jaw, and he ran his thumb over your lips. 

“Good morning.” He murmured. “My mate.”

Your breath released with a shudder, and there was no stopping you as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes and kissed him. Happily. Gladly. Freely.

His arms immediately snaked around you as he leaned in to the kiss. There was no happier place, no better world, than in his arms. That you’d tried to ignore your feelings for him, tried to force a future where he wasn’t yours and you weren’t his—

You shook those thoughts off, pulling back and smiling at him before you could start crying again. You wouldn’t waste precious moments on thinking of what had already passed. 

“I hope you’re hungry.” Lucien chuckled softly, reaching for the baskets he’d set aside. “I walked to the nearest market. Got just about everything you could possibly want.”

Indeed, there were fruits and cheeses and meats and a loaf of freshly-baked, crusty bread. Your stomach rumbled at the sight, and you reached for the first basket–

“I got you something else, as well.” Lucien said, a soft smile on his lips. 

You cocked your head. “Oh?” 

“At the market, a couple of young girls had a stall. They were selling these little flower chains they’d made. Or rather, trying to sell them. I couldn’t resist buying one.” 

You chuckled, watching as he produced a circlet of daisies from a small paper bag. He was grinning as he fastened it around your neck.

“There.” He hummed. “Fit for a queen.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t buy one for yourself.” You smiled. “You’d look so pretty with daisies around your neck and in your hair. I’m not sure I could keep my hands to myself.”

“Oh really?”

He leaned in, his scent enveloping you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips brush yours — before your stomach decided to announce your hunger again.

Lucien chuckled, pressing a quick peck to your lips before pulling away. He grabbed both baskets, carrying them over to the kitchenette. “We should really eat.”

And as much as you wanted to eat him in that moment, you were just as content to sit yourself at the small table and watch, basking in the domestic bliss of Lucien cutting up the fruits and cheese and slicing the bread and meats. He poured you both a drink of juice and carried the assortment of food — far more than you could possibly need — over to you. 

“For my love.” He kissed the top of your head. “Enjoy.”

A gentle, comfortable silence swathed the two of you as you dug in, savouring the tastes coating your tongue. You would remember these tastes — associate them with Lucien, with this moment, forever more. You were happy.

But it was halfway through your meal that you realised that Lucien didn’t seem quite so comfortable. You studied him, a kernel of worry in your gut as you reached out and wrapped your leg around his.

“Hey.” You spoke softly. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Lucien chewed slowly. A moment passed before he lifted his gaze to yours, and he grabbed your hand. “I need to talk to you about something—tell you something we discovered in this…mess.”

And that kernel inside you grew instantly. Not just worry, but…doom. Doom, as you shifted in your seat. “Okay…”

“…Eris discovered some hidden letters in our father’s office. Letters from Linden. He’d written to you during your first couple of weeks at the estate, but they were intercepted and hidden from you.”

Your body stiffened. Lucien’s thumb brushing over your hand was the only thing keeping you grounded. “…But why? I know your father is a callous bastard, but…why bother? They’re just letters from my friend…”

Your words trailed off as Lucien shook his head. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back. Still gripped onto your hand. “They weren’t just any letters. Linden alluded to the fact that he had important information he needed to give you. He wanted to meet with you so you could talk.”

“Information?” 

“You see…there were other letters, too. Addressed to my father…from your father.” His fingers gripped tighter. “…the whole thing, Y/N — you and Dion getting married — was all a part in some twisted, convoluted plan that our fathers cooked up together.”

“I know that. My father wanted me to marry a high-standing male to save our reputation—”

“No, Y/N/.” Lucien cut you off gently. “Your father arranged for you to marry Dion as part of a bargain with my father. Your father had begun peddling faebane because of the gambling debts he’d racked up and the risk of what they could do to your family’s reputation. He…he essentially gave you to my father, to Dion, to get you out of the way. So that they could negotiate their sales without you finding out and trying to put a stop to it.”

You weren’t sure you were breathing. 

Your entire body had gone ice-cold. Stiff. A strange sensation of pinpricks crawled over your skin. 

No. Surely your father wouldn’t stoop so low. He’d undoubtedly changed since the family business had gone under, but he wasn’t a bad male. Wasn’t someone who would bring harm to anyone’s door — much less his own children—

But despite your pleading, whirring thoughts, you knew damn well that Lucien wouldn’t be telling you this without reason. Without evidence. 

You tried to swallow the lump that had grown in your throat, and the tears that rolled down your cheeks were starkly warm against your frozen skin. You were only just able to croak out, “you’re sure about this?”

“I wish I wasn’t, my love.” There was a rustle, some movement — and then a pile of envelopes was placed in front of you. “Eris made copies of all the letters.”

For a moment, you just…stared at them. You didn’t know if you had the courage to read the truth. But some small part of you knew that you needed to. That you needed to finally put the puzzle pieces of this entire bizarre situation together. To step back and look at the picture they created.

With shaking hands, you reached out. And you forced yourself to read.

Every word was like a punch to your gut. Like wiping clean what you thought you knew of the man who had raised you. You didn’t…didn’t recognise the person who had written these letters, who was doing these things. And to essentially sell you to the Vanserras — to get you off his hands…

You tossed those ones aside before you could finish reading them. But it was Linden’s letters — his tone and his manner in writing — that truly finished you off. Your tears splashed against the pages, blurring your eyes and making it impossible to read. But you could hear his voice in your head. Warning you. Telling you to stay strong. And the idea that he’d thought you hadn’t wanted to write to him—

The letter drifted from your hands, onto the table, just as a sob broke from your throat. So many emotions were warring inside you at once. You didn’t know which to focus on, how to process them.

Lucien was immediately pushing out of his chair, rounding the table to where you sat. With utter ease, he was scooping you up into his arms and lowering himself into your seat, securing you in his lap. You clung to him, the front of his shirt, as you gave in to another onslaught of tears.

“It’s going to be alright.” He soothed you quietly, pressing his lips to your hair. 

You cried harder, barely able to get your words out. “My father—the hamlet fire—”

“I know. I know. The whole thing is fucked up. But they’re not getting away with this, I promise you.”

You pulled back, just enough to stare at Lucien through your teary eyes. “How can you be so sure? No one has ever stopped Beron before—”

“It’s different now. We have more people on our side than our fathers do on theirs. And he’s been rapidly losing support as High Lord for a while, now — particularly since the Harvest Festival last year, and then the hamlet fire. He’s losing his power. And we’re going to leach him of every last bit of it and expose him for what he is, what he’s done. We’re going to take him down.”

“But—but how do you outsmart and take down pure evil?”

“Tamlin has had his people watching him while I’ve been away — gathering information and evidence.” Lucien leaned down, his lips brushing away each tear on your cheeks. “That’s why I have to return to the Spring Court for the time being. To find out what he knows and help him. We’ve already learned that my father is meeting with yours today, all the way in Rask  — Dion is going to use his skill and follow them. Spy on the meeting. My mother is willing to help any way that she can. And Eris…Eris has gone to track Linden down. To bring him back to our court. There is…no way, Y/N, that our fathers are getting away with this. Not once we’re finished with them.”

The information — all of it — was swimming in your head, clashing against each other like waves against rocks. You half wanted to slam your hands against your ears and hide, to reject everything you were hearing, but—

“Eris is bringing Linden back?” You sat up — and paused. “…Your father is meeting with mine today?” So many questions, you couldn’t ask them all at once.

“Yes.” Lucien studied you cautiously. “But Dion is dealing with that. You’re not to go anywhere near that meeting, do you hear me?”

You heard him. But that impulsive, furious part of you wanted to damn it all to hell and go storming straight to your father. To confront him face-to-face.

“Y/N.” Lucien dragged your gaze back to this. “We’re doing this the proper way. Believe me, I want nothing more than to confront both my father and yours, and gut them both. But that isn’t the way to solve this. We can only win this with information and evidence. By outsmarting them and exposing them.” His arms tightened around you. “I want you to go back to the estate and stay with my mother. Alright? Promise me that you will.”

You stared into those deep, russet eyes, reading the emotion, the pleading, that lay there. Everyone knew you could be foolish and ruled by your short fuse, but…but the only way of getting what you wanted — of seeing a happy ending with the male you were so in love with — would be by following their leads. This was an intricate game that they were far more well-equipped to play than you were. You wouldn’t destroy the outcome for everyone by being impulsive, reckless.

“I promise.” You said, and you meant it with your whole heart. “I’ll go back to the estate and stay with your mother. Just…just be careful. Please—”

Your worries were smothered by Lucien’s lips slanting over yours, the kiss hard and promising. He cupped your face, and it was though he was committing the feel and taste of you to memory as he claimed your mouth with his. He only pulled away to suck in a deep intake of breath.

“This’ll all be over soon, my fireling.” He breathed against your lips. “We’ll be together soon.”

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Rask was a wise territory in which to meet. Rask was so preposterously big that even the High Lord of the Autumn Court could stroll through its packed streets without garnering attention. 

Dion understood the logic behind Beron and Jesper agreeing to meet here, but that didn’t make the stifling heat any more pleasant to endure. To any innocent bystander, he and Willow were just one of many wealthy couples strolling through the streets with parasols and hand-held fans and clothes so expensive they could feed an entire village for a year. But though Dion was by no means a honed, seasoned spy, not at all confident in his abilities – his skill was in conversation, in charm – he would sooner throw himself into the centre of the action than have Y/N do so – again.

He and Willow had been here for a day already, a happy, young couple — for all intents and purposes — simply holidaying on the continent. But they’d familiarised themselves with landscapes, learned exactly where this meeting was to be held. They were leaving nothing to chance.

Dion hadn’t even wanted to bring Willow with him, but…as his brilliant, wonderful love had pointed out, they were far more likely to blend in as a couple, than a lone male would, scoping out the streets. And blend in, they did.

It was mid-morning, the sun already unbearably hot, when they glimpsed Barric through the cafe window they were sat beside. Indeed, the male, striding along alone, did look rather misplaced amongst the couples and groups. The mere sight of him had white-hot rage building in Dion that he had to tamp down on. Willow kicked him beneath the table for good measure. 

Right. He needed to focus. The timing had to be perfect. They’d learned, through Tamlin’s sentinels, that Barric would be disembarking at the docks at ten o’clock – which he had. He would make his way to the public gardens and be joined an hour later by Beron and Jesper. A perfectly reasonable place for three businessmen to take a leisurely stroll whilst holding an inconspicuous meeting. Nobody would suspect anything untoward, or even pay them any mind. 

Dion and Willow waited until Barric was firmly out of sight before they rose from their seats, paying for their breakfast and returning to the busy Raskian streets. They kept to the darker corners of the city, the alleys and more impoverished areas – places in which they knew they weren’t at risk of running into the High Lord’s advisor. They retraced the route they’d planned in the room at the inn the night before, thanks to the map Tamlin had provided them with. It was certainly not as pleasant a walk as they would have taken on the main streets or the promenade, no – but through the winding, cobblestone paths of the city’s underbelly, they could find their way to the public gardens more or less unseen and undetected. 

They arrived around thirty minutes before Beron and Jesper were due to. Once again, they blended in with the various other couples who were strolling the paths that wended through the hedges and bushes. Rather bold, really, for the High Lord to conduct such discussions in such a public place – but the coded, secretive language would mean nothing to these people. No one would know what the males amongst them were capable of. 

No sign of Barric, yet, but Dion wasn’t concerned. He need only place himself in his father’s mind, think like him. He tucked Willow’s arm within his own and guided her around, pretending to peruse the flowers and shrubs. But he was looking for quiet, shaded alcoves. For somewhere Beron might stand and talk whilst maintaining a picture of ease and utter casualness. 

The pair were just rounding a large conifer hedge when Dion yanked Willow back with him, pressing her against the wall of shrubbery. Barric approached from the other direction, hands in his pockets and his shoulders rolled back. He headed to a stone pavilion at the back of the garden. A quiet corner, indeed. 

They kept their footsteps light as they followed the line of hedges that encased the pavilion in an almost circular formation. There, they could wait. There, they could listen. 

Sweat rolled down Dion’s neck, his hair sticking to his skin. The heat was truly unbearable, and even more so with he and Willow squished so closely together. A rustle had him pressing her even closer against him, and she shoved a hand over her mouth, stifling a yelp as he stepped on her foot. There was no comfort in spying, in being discreet – his thoughts flitted momentarily to Azriel of the Night Court, and he wondered how the male did it with such ease.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. It was unbearable. But with every passing minute, the other members of the public had steered well clear of that quiet corner of the gardens. Perhaps Barric had spoken to the staff ahead of time, insisted that they not be disturbed—

Chimes peeled nearby, announcing eleven o’clock. Beron and Jesper would be here any moment. Beron Vanserra despised poor time-keeping. Was never, ever late. 

The sound of footsteps scuffing on the stone path had both Dion and Willow tensing. He pushed her closer against the hedge, tempted to hold his breath, to not make a sound as he listened to the approaching people – no, he realised, approaching person. That was only one pair of footsteps. And not headed towards the pavilion, but rounding the corner—

He turned just in time to come face-to-face with Barric. Barric, who merely smiled at the two of them, unsurprised. He took in the sight of Dion and Willow with a strange look of amusement in his eyes. There was no Beron. No Jesper…

Alarm bells began ringing inside of Dion’s mind. He stood up straight, angling himself in front of Willow as Barric began to stroll towards them. 

“Oh, dear me.” He purred, a figure of pure assuredness. His eyes flicked over Dion, and his lips twitched. “Does Y/N know that you’ve taken to rutting among the conifers with the younger, prettier sister? I can’t imagine she’d be all too thrilled.” 

Dion’s jaw clenched. He had no words. The situation was suddenly clear as day before him.

The whole thing had been a fucking trap.

“What a coincidence, that we should end up in Rask at the same time as each other.” Barric clicked his tongue. “Except, of course, it’s no coincidence at all, is it?” 

Dion swallowed. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to–”

“This was a fun little experiment. So rarely do I get to visit the continent.” He leaned past Dion to shoot a positively lupine smile at Willow. “I take it this is your first time here? Beautiful weather, no?”

“What,” Dion gritted out, “experiment?” 

Barric rolled his eyes. “I must say, Dion, I’m a tad disappointed. I thought you were smarter than this. You didn’t actually think that Beron could be spied on without finding out, did you? He suspected for weeks that he was being watched. This was just a fun way to confirm it. Though, I’m a little annoyed – I bet ten gold marks that your feral fiancee would be the one to follow us.”

Dion clenched his fists at his side. He wanted to throttle him, to kill him. He’d been so fucking stupid. 

“My father’s not here?” He asked. 

“No, Dion, your father’s not here. Do you truly believe he has time to go gallivanting around Rask when there’s work to be done? You made a wasted journey, I’m afraid. But at least I can go back and tell him he was right — that he was being spied on.” He tsked sarcastically. “And by his own son, no less. I’m sure he’ll have a small amount of leniency for his kin, but…well, Tamlin’s sentinels didn’t have the same kind of luck.” 

“You killed them?” Willow finally spoke on a breath, staring wide-eyed over Dion’s shoulder. 

“Me?” Barric scoffed. “No. I was on a ship to Rask by then. But I believe the High Lord had a fun time doing so. And he’s even being generous enough to return their bodies to the Spring Court – well, their heads, anyway. On spikes.” 

Dion…Dion needed to get Willow out of there. Now. If she didn’t vomit, he may just do it for the both of them.

He grabbed hold of her hand, tugging. He could barely get his shaking legs to move as he snarled, “Come on.” 

“Oh, are you leaving?” Barric tilted his head. “That’s a shame. These gardens are so beautiful. I do hope I didn’t ruin your experience. If I were you, I’d make the most of your trip — give Beron some time to calm down before you return home.” 

Dion didn’t deign to respond. Every part of him trembled, but he pushed himself forward. Pushed himself to hold Willow close and hurry past. To…to go back to their inn, or…or wherever. He didn’t know. His head was swimming, spinning. He needed to get them out.

But Barric called after them one more time.

“Dion?” His lips twitched upwards. “You can’t win, you know. There’s no use in trying.”

Again, he didn’t bother with a response. Didn’t even look back. 

But as he hurried himself and Willow out of there, feeling like he was wading through mud, he couldn’t help feeling like Barric’s words rang true. 

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *

Go back to the estate and stay with my mother.

You would do just that. Whatever Lucien needed you to do. You could still feel him on you, smell him on you, and that in itself gave you the strength to just sit tight and wait. 

You couldn’t help feeling unease, though, after you’d returned your horse to the stables. As you climbed the steps up to the front door, the place felt…wrong. As though you were walking straight into a trap.

Paranoid. You were simply paranoid from all the information you’d learned.

Still, that paranoia kept you on high alert whilst you began travelling the winding corridors of the house, in search of Catrin. You knew that the High Lord and Barric were still away from the estate, as were most of the other Vanserras, but…something felt off. Even with the usual servants milling around and completing their jobs, it felt almost as if the entire property was…was holding its breath. Waiting.

“Catrin?” You called softly, opening the door to the sitting room she favoured. The area was empty, dark. No teacups or open books or signs that anyone had been in there recently. 

You pursed your lips, shutting the door again. Maybe you should try the solarium; she often enjoyed watching the evening sun pour through the windows in various pastel hues. You could sit with her, and tell her that she was right — that you were going to fight for your love. 

You turned, rounding another corner – and smacked into someone.

Not Catrin. The figure was far too big, far too imposing. Tall and muscled and firm. Your stomach bottomed out as Beron Vanserra’s spiced scent filled your nose. 

Slowly, you stepped back. Swallowed. The High Lord cocked his head at you, not unlike a curious cat. 

Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous, a voice bleated in your head. Watch yourself.

“Apologies, my lord.” Your voice barely came out, a mere rasp. “I didn’t see you there.” 

His lips jerked into an unkind smile. “Snooping about the halls? Have you nothing better to do?”

“I was looking for Ca—Lady Autumn. I thought we might have tea together.”

Your quick correction clearly wasn’t enough. Realisation crossed his face, swept away by thunder. You’d given away that she’d shared her name with you — and he hated it. Hated her having an identity, something besides the title he’d stamped to her. Hated that things went on beneath his nose.

But he schooled his features into neutrality. “Interesting,” was all he offered.

You dipped your chin, stepping aside. “Excuse me.” Go back to the estate and stay with my mother. Go back to the estate and stay with my mother. You couldn’t get yourself into trouble if you simply…avoided it. Did as you were told.

But the High Lord’s arm was whipping out, blocking your path so quickly that you walked into it. It was firm, like a true barricade able to hold you back. You stiffened.

“Lady Autumn,” he said, his tone dripping with distaste, “is at the market, where I sent her. I needed you and I to be able to talk in peace.”

You swallowed, your eyes not moving from his arm. “What could we have to talk about?”

He moved so fast, there was no chance for you to even register that the strong, muscled arm was scooping you up and shoving you into the sitting room, slamming the door shut behind you. You winced as he pinned you against the wall, barely a space between you. His scent was too much, too strong.

“You’re posing a great deal of problems for me, Y/N.” He murmured lethally. “And I don’t like it.”

You didn’t—couldn’t—raise your eyes to his. You honed in on an insignificant, dark blot on his collar. So unusual for the High Lord to be anything besides pristine. To have carelessly allowed his crisp tunic to be stained with ink, or—

No, not ink. Blood. That was blood.

Only then did you meet his gaze, your voice like steel as you gritted out, “what have you done.”

Not Catrin. Please, please not Catrin. Had he somehow found out about your little trip outside the estate, your conversation? Had he—had he hurt her?

The High Lord glanced down at the stain of blood on his tunic. His lips twitched. “I merely doled out a justified punishment to Tamlin’s sentinels. I don’t like being watched, Y/N.”

Your stomach turned. You were going to be sick. “Seems to me that hiding that big cache of Faebane has turned you paranoid—”

You flinched, words cutting off as his hand rose. But he merely lowered it to your hair, his fingers sinking through the strands and…and finding your braid. Toying with it. His eyes studied it, and he seemed to smile knowingly.

“Do you know what I find mighty curious, Y/N?”

You didn’t miss a single movement of his. “What?”

That small, barely-there gap between your two bodies was closed as he leaned in. You stiffened, not daring to breathe as the ridge of his nose coasted along your throat, and he inhaled.

“I can smell my son all over you.” His voice was too close, too much, a scrape against your skin. “Over every. Single. Inch of you.”

You tried to back up, to no avail. “Dion and I never swore an oath of celibacy before the wedding. What of it?”

Beron chuckled — an awful, grating sound. “Wrong son. Try again.”

“Dion—”

“Dion,” he spat, his hand snapping up to wrap around your throat, “is in Rask with Willow. Because the two of them went there to spy on me, didn’t they? And fell flawlessly into my trap. Barric is dealing with them as we speak.”

Every word eddied from your mind.  Every word except your sister’s name. Willow, Willow, Willow. You hadn’t known she’d gone with Dion, hadn’t known that—

Fell flawlessly into my trap.

Barric is dealing with them as we speak.

“What are you—” You managed to gasp out around your quickening breaths. “What have you done?”

“Besides defending what’s mine? My right?” Beron shrugged. “Besides punishing traitors—”

“You are the traitor.” You snapped. “You and my fucking father. Betraying your people. Harming them.”

The High Lord chuckled — chuckled. And it was enough to incense you. Enough to spark that fury inside of you that gave you enough strength to shove him away from you.

“You’re sick.” You sneered. “You’ve done so much damage — to your own people, your court — and you don’t even care. But rest assured, Beron, you won’t get away with it. We will destroy you, just as you have destroyed so much. We’re going to expose you, and—”

Your words must have hit a nerve. Because Beron struck. 

One moment, he was sneering at you. The next — in a flash of movement so fast, you barely had time to register it — he was grabbing you by the neck, raising an object over your head.

He squeezed hard, and you clawed at his hand, fought and fought to rip it from your skin.

But then his other hand was slicing down. Something hit your head with a thunderous blow.

You knew nothing more than the darkness that seeped in.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The High Lord stood over the female, his breaths heaving.

She didn’t move.

Crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from a deep gash on her head. He could hear that she was still breathing — just about. For now.

He’d known he’d have to deal with her eventually. 

He nudged her with the toe of his boot. It only caused her arm to flop back. Good. She wouldn’t wake any time soon — not before it was too late.

Everything had got too close to comfort. Watchful eyes everywhere, whispers amongst his kin. There was evidence — evidence he needed rid of. 

Y/N being the most glaring piece of evidence.

He would raze this place to the ground before he’d allow his secrets to be exposed. Words were nothing without proof — and this manor was full of the stuff. 

He stepped over Y/N’s crumpled body. She didn’t so much as twitch. Didn’t stir as he slipped out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

He felt nothing as he walked through the halls of the manor, towards his office. That was where the bulk of the proof lay.

And so that was where the heart of the destruction would begin.

He flung the door open wordlessly. The guards were with Catrin, accompanying her to the market, just as he’d instructed. The servants never dared spare him a glance. Perhaps they’d feel differently after today. 

His eyes took one sweeping look of his office, and still, he felt nothing. Wasn’t capable of feeling anything. He’d always been cold, stoic. Always needed to be.

There was no flicker of emotion for the wealth of possessions he’d accumulated over the years. No emotion for the proud domain of a High Lord.

And no emotion for his two sons who lounged on a couch, lying in wait. Jareth and Rian glanced up upon his arrival, waiting dutifully for instruction.

“You called for us, father?” Jareth sat up, eagerness shining in his eyes.

Beron strode to the desk. The desk that would be ashes within the hour. “The time has come for the two of you to prove yourselves to me.” 

Both males immediately straightened where they sat. They were different to their brothers — had none of Catrin’s softness, and all of Beron’s cunning.

“What are we to do?” Rian asked.

Beron stared into space, as if seeing something no one else could. “I want every room on this level burning within minutes.”

His sons stilled, sharing a glance. It was Jareth who repeated, “…burning?”

“I want you to set fires. As many as you possibly can without being seen.”

“…to the manor?” Rian stared at him.

The High Lord’s eyes shot to him. “Yes, you imbecile, to the manor. The whole place needs to go up in flames. You know of the discourse amongst the court — that villagers have been steadily turning on me. The fire will be blamed on them. On an uprising of brutes. And I, their High Lord, will be running straight towards the danger and rescuing innocent servants and staff from the blaze.” While vital evidence is burned, he didn’t add. “No one will dare question their loyalty to me after today.”

There was clearly a moment of hesitation between the two sons. A part of them that wanted to argue that this was their home, these were their things, that they loved it here.

But their father was their High Lord. And with a scathing last look from him, they rose and slunk from the room to follow orders.

Beron stood from the chair at his desk. Took one last look at the study.

He glanced down at his hands, summoning flames to his fingertips. Strode towards the door.

And with one jerk of his wrist, the entire study became an inferno. The heat was stifling, the flames spreading, eating up the carpet and furniture. The evidence. He shut the door behind him with barely a glance.

He backed away, not at all hurried. But as he strolled to the exit, he tuned in to the sounds of similar fires bursting through rooms. Destroying things.

And soon, the most vital things would be gone.

Soon, there would be nothing of Y/N and the evidence, besides a pile of ashes.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

He took a back exit, into the gardens, and followed the path to the front. By the time he’d strolled there, black smoke was already churning out of the windows and doors. Panicked cries had begun to seep out from inside. He wasn’t worried that any of the staff would find Y/N; very few of them ventured to the lower areas, the personal areas, without express permission.

He rounded the corner just in time to see Catrin approaching, Beron’s two guards at her sides and pure horror on her face. The basket she’d taken to the market was tossed aside, and she grasped the skirts of her gown, running towards the manor.

Beron shot into her path so quickly, she stumbled into him. He barely glanced at his guards, ordering them with a jerk of his chin. “Go and help. Quickly.”

The two of them took off in a sprint, running for the manor. Shouts carried out to them – and heat. Unbearable, stifling heat.

Catrin attempted to sidestep Beron, her entire body visibly shaking. “What is—”

“Don’t,” The High Lord cut her off menacingly, “you dare.”

But she was panicked, trying to push past him, to see past him. “What happened? How many people are in there? Beron—”

He was tired of dealing with hysterical females. He gripped her with one hand, so hard that he knew it would bruise. Used the other hand to unsheath his dagger. 

She was far too preoccupied to notice as he drove the hilt into the back of her skull, and she crumpled just as Y/N had.

He laid her down on the lawn. By the time she awoke, it would be too late to help. 

And then he hurried back inside.

To play the hero.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

lucien tags: @brekkershadowsinger @sillycrownlady @ruler-of-hades @lectoradefics @lucyysthings @littlemoonash @janzquu @carmelalikestoread @cathyac @tasha2627 @elkessecretplace @inkyvelvet @acourtofthought @zazite95 @antisocialcookie16 @sehalpha25 @fuckthatfeeling @adamgetawaydriver @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @lostpirateinwonderland @scrunklybunny @owllover123 @vangoghsbaby @goodbyemilkyway @babyimagangsta2 @cynicalpotato95

#acotar #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien fanfic #acotar fandom #acotar writing #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanon #acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar fluff #acotar series #fluff #mating bond #smut #lucien smut #lucien fluff #lucien fic #angst #sarah j maas #vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #autumn court #acotar universe #reader insert

[lady-ashfade]

Just a pawn. Pt.2

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader

Part one.

Taglist: @outlawqueen17

Notes: You guys asked for this. Sorry for the mistakes

Warning: Angst, arguing, crying, cursing.

It’s been months, months, since you have last spoken to kaz without it being work related. Your heart hardened after he never even tried to apologize or talk to you after that night. He just let you walk away like it was just another day for him, how would one man be so cruel? Even if he never had the same feelings you did for him, you thought he still cared for you as a friend.

You cried yourself out, body and mind becoming numb to anything but sadness and anger. The only time you ever laughed was when you were drunk and telling stories with Jesper but you even then you didn’t feel truly happy. You avoid him at every turn or moment if you could, saints you even searched a room before entering for him…

So how did you end up in this situation again.

The candle light making the room brighter, it hitting his frame just right and made his jawline pop. The scowl on his faces that you’re sure caused him pain, his muscles tensing and then his voice…Deep and husky. And here you are in front of him listening to his every word with heat coming off your body as he pushed you even further.

“Do you even know how stupid you were tonight? It’s a new low for the team, if it wasn’t for you we could of have had it.” He shouted at you with no hesitation, no care for anything but anger. “Don’t be stupid, I was not the one who messed up. You had the perfect opportunity to catch the damn bag, that’s your fault. Don’t push this one me just for your mistake.” You hissed as you leaned back on the wall of his room.

You face was mix with anger, but also like you didn’t care for what was going on. Like you had no care left to give. His eyes wided and his brow raised at the words you spoke, frustrating him.“You will not speak to me that way, I am your boss. You got there later and the guards came, if you had been there earlier then this wouldn’t be a problem.” Kaz made his point and waited for your next words. 

But you didn’t speak, you let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes. Kicking yourself off the wall and turn around to leave his room because you had no time for this. He was always pushing the blame on you. Ever since that night it was like he wanted to crush you even further, and you weren’t going to take it anymore.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” His voice echoed off the walls and into your eyes, then there was a slam of his hand onto the table. Your jaw tightened and spun around to look at him with rage. You both looked at each other and he could tell he finally broke you down, again.

“Fuck you, I can’t believe your still like this! You blame me for everything, I’ve become a punching bag for you too. For saints sake, how much do you want from me?” You shouted back at him and stepped closer. He could see the tears coming up in your eyes in frustration. “I don’t know why I’m still here, I should be far away from you.” You fumbled your hands to reach up to the crow pin on your shirt and threw it at him.

“I will not be someone for you to blame, no longer, I am not to blame with your shit. I have been here each time, you break me kaz and you didn’t even care! Not even as a friend, what kind of person are you?” Kaz took everything in as he had finally got what he wanted. For you to show him how he made you feel, how small you felt when he let you walk away from him.

“The kind that loves.” His simple words took your head for a spin and made you freeze. You were not ready for him to say those words, and him doing it so calmly. You look at him in disbelief, “You, kaz brekker are incapable of love. Besides you know nothing of the feeling.” As much as it pain his heart to hear you say that, but you didn’t know of the truth. His truth.

“I know you put butter under your jelly, a warm toast to melt it all together. I know you take a drink of water when you drink with Nina so you can take care of her. And I know that I was so foolish to let you walk out that night but I didn’t have a choice. How you seem to spread in my mind, how you smiled and laughed, or the way you looked at me with a glint in your eye.” He step forward and you wanted to move back but you were to caught up in the moment.

“I hated the way you made me feel because for the first time in a long time, I was scared. You haunted me each night, I close my eyes you were there. I blink and I see your face in the black, filling up the void. I-” he stumbled on his words. He looked at the tears rolling down your cheek, he hesitated to reach his hand up to your cheek.

You looks at him as he did you, asking for permission but you didn’t know what to say. How could you possibly forgive him, all the shit he had but you threw. Why did you want to curl back up at his side. The urge to just give yourself up to his blade that he called love, one the cut you deep with ease.

“I know when I make my mistakes and I can not bare the thought of admitting it, but I will now. Because my biggest regret is you. How I caused you pain and how I treated you, I thought that pushing you away would make you grow.” His hand met your cheek and whipped away the tears from it.

“And now?” You whispered. Your breath hitched as he got closer to you, and you could see every detail in his face. He looked down at you, so close you could hear his breaths. You should push him away and not give into him but it felt right, and you knew it was probably wrong. But you couldn’t seem to care.

“I ache to have you back…” his other hand came up to your waist and hovered close to the skin as he battled with himself. He took a breath and connected his skin with yours and wrap his arm around your waist being you closer. Your body pressed against his chest as you both felt each other’s warmth.

“Be mine, completely mine. I will make your every wish come true if it could be done, if you will have me. I am yours to have forever, only belonging to you.” His lips inched close to you as you both still looked at each other but eyes flicking open and closed.

“I accept your offer, but we need time to fix what happened..” you whispered as your lips hit his softly.

“Kiss me as a start.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x fem!reader #shadow and bone x reader #angst #six of crows

[1wishand1thought]

MY SNEAKY LITTLE FOX| PART 2

Kaz Brekker x Fem. Y/N

Here you have part 1, in case you haven't read it yet: part 1

Summary: Kaz struggles to keep y/n out of his mind, her absence making him worried about the possibility of losing his most secret investment. The uncertainty of her presence in Ketterdam forces him to get into deep waters, using his knowledge to get to where she lives, only to find himself lost in the sound of her voice.

Warnings: NSFW/ Nudity descriptions, naughty vocabulary(is that even the right word? I only see this as poetic writing lmao, OKAY SORRY. let's continue).

A/N: OH SAINTS THIS ONE WAS A WHOLE CHALLENGE GUYS. I had a clear path to write this, and then a million Kruge stepped in my way avoiding me to keep going. Seriously, I lost motivation like Jesper lost money when betting. Anyway I hope you like it, it's a bit longer than the first one, I'll put the word count later. LOVE YOU, TKYSM FOR 114 NOTES IN PART 1🫶🏻🥹

Wordcount: 3417.

A week had passed since the incident. A whole damn week where her inner struggles to not think of him just got worse.

The night washed over the city, only with the twilight and the stars flickers enlightening the dark and empty streets of the city. She was in her house now, an underground place in Ketterdam.

Y/n paced back and forth as if she was trying to solve a puzzle to finally ease her thoughts, but instead, failed every time. Her mind kept replaying his voice, as she had memorized every detail, treating it like a meticulous plan: no flaws or loose ends. All she wanted was to forget him, to comply with the words that left his mouth like a hundred bullets:

"You better keep your mouth shut and never bring this up in a conversation ever again, y/n... Or else you'll regret it for the rest of your days," he had warned her back then, as he covered his bare hands with a pair of leathery gloves.

She regretted everything about that night; the way his neck seemed so tight, as if he was a disguised thief, holding back a painful scream. She remembered how the vein on the side of his forehead pumped fiercely as if it was trying to break free from his face. Anger rose inside her.

Why did he let her watch?

Was that a sort of "taunting you because I know all your secrets" improvised joke? Because yes, she felt the heat and arousal bubbling inside her when he fidgeted with his shaft that night. She even felt as if she was the damn cock in his hands.

But did he know all her secrets? Did he know that she hadn't reached the climax in years? Perhaps he even knew where she lived. It aggravated her that he let her see him in such a vulnerable state, so intime, so... appealing.

A tattoo was carved into her frightened mind. Did he do it to taunt her, then? Does he know all about her?

She discarded every suggestion. The only personal information she had divulged to Kaz was her name and skills. She had also warned him to keep her recruitment a secret, and maybe she had even mentioned how she preferred to keep to herself rather than socialize with the people of Ketterdam. So all her personal information was deeply buried in her mind.

What she had yet to realize was that Kaz had her entire birth chart stored in a well-guarded section of his restless brain. He always found a way to know everything, as he couldn't bear not knowing it all.

He somehow, and with the help of his witty brain, managed to get her full name and the address to her place. He had also discovered details about her lineage and parents, who were long gone either to hell or with the saints. It wasn't much, but considering the time it took him to obtain such valuable information, it was certainly something.

Y/n hadn't even sneaked near the Barrel to eavesdrop from outside Kaz's office. Her eyes were glued to the stonewall in front of her now, and the cold moonlight brought back memories of Kaz's figure. His image haunted her like a nightmare, constantly invading her thoughts for the past seven days.

She needed to let go, but she was certain she couldn't do it. She hissed in frustration, her back landing on the bed behind her. The cold bedspread sent shivers through her warm body. She was only wearing her underclothes, as she was alone in her home.

The place had no walls dividing the spaces except for the bathtub and toilet in the corner, where no natural light reflected on the porcelain washbasin or bath other than the warm light of the candles she had spread there.

Her gaze drifted back to the long, narrow window that looked out onto the bustling street above. In the morning and through the murky glass, she could make out the feet of pedestrians as they hurried past. It was a small connection to the outside world that faded at night. No pedestrians were outside now, mostly because all the nearby buildings were full of early workers and showmen waiting for the early hours to head back to their workspaces.

A few candles illuminated the dining room placed a few steps away from the kitchen, the warm light spread only to the border of her bed and collided with the cold tone of the moon. Still, the kitchen was dark, as the candlelight reflected on the only tall furniture in the kitchen. The stone step separating the table from her bedroom space prevented her from having a clear view of the entrance.

Back at the club, Kaz's stress had accumulated in the last few days and had now reached its peak. He fidgeted with the crow head holder of his cane as he sat in his office, his eyes fixated on the wall, his breath coming out in short, heavy gasps. His free hand tightly gripped the edge of his desk, causing his knuckles to turn white beneath the fabric.

To his right, a half-empty bottle of brandy sat on his desk, and untouched papers and bills piled up in a messy tower before him. He couldn't focus on them, not with her image haunting his thoughts.

《Where are you?》 he wondered as his mind drifted back to her face. He could recall the subtle movements of her thighs, the panic in her blushed cheeks as she tried not to get caught. It was all too appealing.

It was for the best that he cut the emotional ties with her. He had a club to run, money to make, and he couldn't afford any distractions. But he needed her for the job. He needed her unique set of skills. The way she could vanish into the shadows of Ketterdam like Inej once did. The only difference between them being a few distinguishable features.

He considered going to check if she was there, fearing that she might have left Ketterdam after their last encounter. He needed to be certain of her presence, otherwise, he would have to find someone else to do her job, which he didn't want to do.

As time passed, his anxiety grew, and he was unable to shake the memories of her from his mind. His thoughts were in turmoil, and he knew he needed to find a way to focus before it was too late. It shouldn't have been difficult to concentrate, given that he didn't like her.

Kaz didn't even realize when he left his office, unconsciously stepping out and leaving his cane on his desk. He didn't scold Jesper for flirting with Wylan at the bar when he was supposed to be working. Of course, the couple wondered where their boss was going, but neither of them dared to ask him about it. He seemed lost in thought as his leg wobbled a bit from the imbalance. His frown was deeper than usual, and one of his gloved hands was clenched into a fist at his side.

Fortunately, her place was not too far from the club, but it was far enough that, as if by a miracle, her slightly warm body became warmer, her cheeks flushed, and eventually, after a few minutes, she found herself breathing heavily. Her hands moved in time with her thoughts, and the images of Kaz, so vivid in her mind, only served to fuel her fire. She had done this a few times in the last week to try to free her mind of the torture his image spur her to do, at the same time that she put all her efforts to release the moan fighting to come out. This time felt different, as if her body knew something she didn't.

Unbeknownst to her, Kaz was nearby, clenching his teeth so tightly that it made his jaw hurt. It made him wonder if it was due to her absence from work, or the way she made him feel that produced this sort of reactive action.

He knew a knock on the door would be odd, considering that she told him she was not a very social person, hence didn't have any friends.

So, he decided to use his brain. He made sure to see if there was any visible light reflecting into the streets from the visible lower window almost glued to the floor. No light was visible. Good.

He knew she lived unseen in Ketterdam.

Like a fox hiding from the danger, without knowing the danger it held inside. He new it though, probably why he called her that.

He would just leave an envelope with the tasks he had for her and then he would leave. If she read it, she would show up in his office. If not, then she had made her choice very clear.

His lockpicking skills gave him easy access to her place. He tried to keep his limp as light as possible so as not to make his presence obvious. He opened the door with little noise, which was surprising considering it was a wooden door. However, the floor was made of pure stone.

He noticed the dark, small kitchen and immediately took in the warm light of the candles illuminating the rest of the space.

He thought she might have left the candles on, so he didn't take a wider glimpse of the room. He left the envelope on the dark counter and right after reaching for the door handle, he heard it.

His feet locked to the floor, and his chest stopped. Kaz turned his head to the side to take in the sound more clearly. It was as if someone was having a nightmare, with uneven but barely audible breaths. The table and chairs of the tiny dining room obstructed his view, preventing him from seeing the full scene.

His feet moved as a reflex, after silently closing the door before him, he took some cautious and slow steps forward. And then, when he got a clear view, a flame that he feared had been extinguished was ignited from the ashes, burning fiercely inside him. Evaporating all his senses of destruction and vengeance, and replacing them with a gutting desire.

He took in the scene, his hands were sweaty, his mouth slightly opened, and his chest heaving.

Whimpers.

He froze, not making a sound; like a sculpture, he didn't move a muscle. He just stood there, transfixed by the sight before him, his eyes locked on it.

On her.

She was caressing herself, one hand occupied with her breasts, fidgeting with her nipples, and the other under her panties. Her eyes were closed, portraying pain and torture, but deep inside her arousal increased with every touch.

She unlocked a part of her mind that allowed her to visualize Kaz in front of her. As she seemed to have found her only inspiration that may allow her to finally cum. Something she had avoided the last week.

She tried before touching herself thinking of something else, making up someone else’s face in her mind, failing relentlessly every time.

Now, in her mind, a bulge was evident in Kaz's usual black pants, his hands bare, and his cheeks flushed. The image made her wince from pleasure. Her lower lip was tugged between her teeth. Each brush of her hand made her body quake.

A few seconds later she opened her eyes, and she swore she saw her boss's face.

There, in the darkness.

He was staring at her intently, and for a moment, she stopped, bewildered. Her red cheeks acted like fire in her body, burning her entirely with embarrassment and excitement.

《Why are you stopping? I didn't stop when you caught me jerking off》 He thought. His brain took such action as offensive, breaking the pleasant view.

"Don't," the shadow spoke, panting, desperate, and begging almost.

Kaz Brekker wasn't the type of man who begged, not even when he was staring death itself in the face. But now his mind betrayed him, his words being a reflex to his needs.

His dark figure leaned closer to the bed, finally revealing his pale temple. Y/n's heart hammered in her chest as if it was trying to escape like a frightened child. "Don't... don't stop, y/n," There it was again, his voice roaring. His thoughts now sprinting out of an opened cage that would be too hard to lock again given the view. His hoarse and needy voice echoed along her soft gasps.

It took a few seconds for her to realize it wasn't a trick, it wasn't a hologram, something impossible to touch. Kaz Brekker was in front of her, his jaw looked tight, his expression sharp like a blade cutting trough her; his gaze taking in every inch of her skin.

He was like a starved animal waiting to finally get its prey after several failed attempts. He watched every movement, enjoying what he had craved several times where only his imagination was able to put it to work. Now, being real and having her in flesh and bones before him, he didn't want her to stop, nor would he allow it.

It felt as if the candles turned into a hundred torches. The heat around them was both pleasing and hurtful. He wanted to touch her, but somehow his hands were blocked to each side of his body. Loose strands of hair fell over his eyes, but it didn't act as a distraction, his focus being only on her figure. The drip of the several candles blended with the sound of her wet pussy.

His sharp blue eyes found their way to hers, an invisible string forcing to look each other, making it impossible for any of them to break eye contact.

Kaz made his way in front of the bed and sat in the nearby wooden chair. His Adam's apple wobbled as he swallowed hard. The bulge in his pants was evident now, just as y/n had imagined minutes ago.

"What...," her voice cracked, making it impossible for her greedy self to form a full sentence as she was overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. He cut her off sharply, in a demanding tone.

"Shush," he growled, the usual gelid expression covering his face entirely. He was fighting the urge to take his glove off and replace her own hands with his.

Oh, he wanted to squeeze those tits and lick her nipples so badly.

However, his hands still wouldn't move. He felt like a prisoner in his own body, struggling to break free. The uncertainty of how his body would react when he touched her still lingered in his mind.

"Just keep doing it," he demanded, his eyes moving from her face to between her legs, as to try to send her an indirect message of what to do next.

She pushed her underwear aside, mostly due to the desperation taking over her entire body, and for the hint she caught in his eyes. Her wet cunt being visible now.

Y/n closed her eyes, enjoying how she felt when she fingered herself, just as he enjoyed watching her doing so. Her mouth gaped as the shivers she felt took her higher with every touch, the orgasm closer with every passing second.

"Open your eyes," Kaz urged, his voice growing deeper and more desperate. He felt his dick pumping, trying to break free and holding back the urge to cum right then beneath the black fabric.

An inner fight with his mind allowed him to move again a few moments later. A pair of eager hands unbuttoned his pants, showing his greedy bulge over his black boxers.

Y/n complied with his orders and opened her eyes, only to catch him with his gloved hands now full of his cock, just like the other night, adding the fact that she was also with her hands occupied doing the same to herself.

He didn't even bother in taking his gloves off; he just needed to stroke it.

It went on for a few more minutes, with him watching her thrust her fingers in and out of her pussy faster, and she watched him stroking his dick. Both of them, with their arousals and voices, provided the only sound that bounced off every wall, echoing in their ears and carving like an unforgettable memory inside their minds.

With their eyes locked onto each other, their hands fully occupied, and a layer of sweat on their faces under the warm light of the candles, they finally came. Kaz was the first one, and he was more silent this time given all he wanted to hear was her, as he'd imagined: her voice breaking, her legs squirting, her chest going up and down as if she had just run a marathon throughout all of Kerch. He wanted to hear her say his name.

Y/n came a few seconds later, her voice breaking, the sound louder than ever between the walls, she finally gave in, letting the moan out. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and the next words would carve in the deepest part of Kaz's mind, like a catchy song that only he could give himself the pleasure of repeating. "Fuck— Kaz!" She yelled, not so loud but enough to make Dirtyhands bite his lower lip.

He compared what he had imagined to the view before him, they were quite alike, except for the lack of Kaz's touch on her skin.

It took a few moments for Y/n to ease her breathing. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Embarrassment washed over her as she didn't dare to look at the man in front of her.

His lips twisted and contorted into a crooked grin, revealing his satisfaction with what he had just seen. His usual dark eyes betrayed little emotion, but deep down he was afraid to accept the eagerness that burned within him. He wanted her and hoped to make her his right then and there, but the option of him panicking when touching her frightened his mind. It aggravated him: to have her in his gaze and not be able to feel her skin.

Hidden inside Kaz's heart, the flame was still on. He longed for the day when he would finally take his naked hands and feel how wet she was, with no intrusive thoughts in their way.

He took his right glove—now covered in cum– off, whilst still glaring at her body on the bed.

"I need your presence for the job," he muttered, ignoring the fact she was still naked, panting slightly, and her eyes lost in her thoughts.

She wasn't mad about him changing the topic. She hadn't yet found the words to say something anyways.

His normal façade cut sharp like a knife. He knew it was for the best. He tried to convince himself that there would not be a third occasion, given that, if he stood any longer, he would not cum over his gloves but on her stomach. And his hands would not be holding his cock but her hips, keeping her still in the bed.

"If you still want to work for me, I'll be expecting you tomorrow night at the usual time," he said, tilting his head toward her direction as he turned around to leave, taking her utter silence as a reply.

On the other hand, Kaz didn't want to say what echoed in his mind. An uncontrollable pull was trying to stop him from leaving, encouraging him to just give in to her. To finally betray his mind and let something other than revenge and money in his heavy heart, allowing his hands to touch someone else's skin.

He wanted to feel hers under his fingertips, to taste her breath in his mouth. Something that through the passing of months he never accepted until now. But words failed him as they often did, forcing him to repeat the same romantic situation he had with Inej years ago.

So, with the clicking sound of the door closing behind him, they gave an end to their interaction, which would allegedly be the last one, and both let out a long sigh of relief.

Putting an end to his torture of not being brave enough to touch her, and to her torment of not being able to feel his touch.

HII!! So, as I wrote at the beginning, writing this was a love-hate relationship considering my sudden motivation loss. I was so motivated writing this and then BANG, my mind goes blank as fast as Kaz's heart when he sees Inej haha.

Anyway, I really, reaaally hope you like it and if you don't then it's okay we can pretend that this doesn't exists 🫶🏻🤣

Tag list ( the lovely users that asked for a part two):

@outlawqueen17 @bunneex

@tiana76 @freddycarterswife

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows one shot

[unrequitedloveletter]

Hi! Could I request Jesper X reader with prompt + I’m fine.” “No, you aren’t.”

Fine- J.F x gn! reader

Thank you so much for sending this in! I love a good Jesper request because he's so fun to write for, and I hope that this fic is one you enjoy.

fic type- hurt/comfort with a fluffy-ish ending

Warnings- the premise of this fic is that the reader feels off and there's talk of putting on an act to keep the other crows from worrying. Otherwise, there's a mention of alcohol consumption--refered to as drinking rather than a specific kind of alcohol--and this is unedited, we die like joost and his problems.

You’d been feeling off as of late. It was as simple as that. There was no underlying reason, no problem you had that needed solving but remained unsolved even still. 

You’d been sleeping fine, you weren’t more tired than was normal. There had been no fighting between you and anyone else in the crows or in the Dregs for a sense of generality. You’d just felt off, it was as simple as that.

After a point, you realized it was a combination of just feeling off and needing to get out of Ketterdam, to head into the countryside or take to the sea. You’d spent plenty of time travelling before you found yourself in Ketterdam, and you frequently missed it, but you’d missed it more in those weeks. 

You moved through the motions, though. You helped Kaz on heists, laughed with Jesper and Nina and thanked Wylan every time you’d meet with the other crows for breakfast and find that he’d already ordered you a tea. You listened to Inej and her tales of the saints, looked at the illustrations in the Istorii Sankt’ya she owned and pondered the truth in their tales yourself. You sparred with Matthias, took the punches he delivered and delivered a few of your own in turn. 

At night, you drank, you laughed, you grew flustered at Jespers flirtations and felt sheer love and contentment whenever he would wrap an arm around your shoulder and press a kiss to your cheek or a quick, easy peck to your lips.

You thought you’d done a good job of hiding it, of hiding the fact that you weren’t feeling as good as you normally were, but Jesper was the love of your life, and he saw right through you. 

“Are you all right, love?” Jesper had asked you one morning. You were the first of the seven of you to arrive at the Kooperom, and you’d grabbed the table by the windows. Jesper was sitting to your right, one arm draped around your waist while the other rested against the table, fingertips drumming idly against the wood. 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you aren’t,” Jesper said, and damn it, he was right. Jesper had always been able to see right through you, to know when you were putting on an act to keep everyone else from worrying. You’d been dating for two years, but had been friends longer, and it seemed that the ability to tell when you were putting on an act was just innate, something he’d been able to do as long as he’d known you. Sometimes, it was something you resented. “You’re not fine, love. What’s wrong?” 

“Just a bit off,” you shrugged. “Dunno. I’ll be fine in a few weeks, I think. I've also been missing travelling lately. I need to get out of the city."

“We’ve got no heists for the next bit,” Jesper said. “I was going to book time off as it was so that I could pay Da a visit. You’re officially coming along. We’ll go when Inej leaves Ketterdam in three days. She’s been waiting on word of a crew of slavers that were rumored to be around Cofton, and I've talked about it with her before. She wouldn't mind if we hitched a ride on her boat, she mentioned that she'd appreciate the company.” 

“Your father wouldn’t--”

“Oh, please,” Jesper said, laughing. “He’s loved you since you met during the whole thing with the sugar silos. You’ve got the Colm Fahey stamp of approval, so don’t worry about it.” 

You grinned, rested your head against Jespers shoulder as he moved the hand that idly tapped against the table to yours, taking your hand and rubbing his thumb against yours instead. 

Inej and Kaz joined you, Wylan, Nina, and Matthias following not long after, and you felt contentment settling in as a conversation picked up and you gave Jespers hand a squeeze. 

You still felt off, you still craved to step off Ketterdam soil, but you had Jesper. You had the crows, people in your life who mattered, who reminded you that it would be okay in the end. 

#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone

[jackwolfes]

46 with kaz/wylan would be pretty interesting...

a kiss out of jealousy

Jesper Fahey's stupid pretty mouth is ruining Wylan's day. 

His foot taps in the air where he has one leg folded over the opposite knee. Petulance reigns. With his arms crossed over his chest Wylan watches Jesper across the busy floor of the Crow Club. He's awfully close to the new kid, who Wylan likes even less than he likes Jesper — and he barely likes Jesper. It's just that he has an upsettingly well-shaped set of lips and a smile that glints like stained glass on a church window even on cloudy days. What does Wylan have? Not a crush. Just an endless well of irritation over the fact such a frustrating man can be so — attractive. And a considerable amount of distaste for the fact he's fairly sure Jesper has just stuck his hand up another man's shirt in public.

Wylan huffs, jerking his face to the side.  

"Should someone tell Kuwei you're jealous of him?" The words rasp like salt over stone. Wylan rolls his eyes when he looks over at Kaz, frustration mounting. 

"I am not jealous," he says. "I am annoyed about the fact some people seem to think it's acceptable to air all their dirty laundry in the middle of a bar."

"Ironic, given this conversation." 

Wylan spins his bar stool around fully, wondering if he can will Jesper to take his stupid flirting somewhere else by just ignoring it. As if Jesper cares what you do, he thinks coldly. 

"You started it," he replies. 

"Are you going to finish it, then?"

The challenge in Kaz's voice, provocative as it always is, makes Wylan go still. Kaz watches him like an eagle, dark eyes intense as they catalogue every inch of him. It's a disarming stare, and it takes him apart. Perhaps that's just the knowledge that Kaz is seeing every single one of his weaknesses and flaws. 

And in that moment Wylan really looks at Kaz. He sees the arch of his brow and the long slope of his nose, taking in the real shape of Kaz Brekker. Wylan finds the words on his tongues shrivelling like fruit in the sun. His gaze goes lower. Kaz's lips. Now Wylan can all but feel Jesper's eyes on him from across the room, damn certain he's imagining it — but what if he's not? What if Jesper was watching, and what if Wylan could give him a show? Make him jealous? 

Suddenly all Wylan can see in his head is the future. It's an upside down world where nothing holds him back from surging up and taking Kaz's face in his hands to press their lips together. Wylan might pull him down but in all likelihood Kaz would take the lead. Push Wylan back against the bar, maybe, or even decide to grab a chair of his own and pull Wylan into his lap. These stools would be horrible for it but in the dream haze of Wylan's imagination nothing like that matters. The only thing that matters is the viscerally felt sensation of Kaz's mouth against his, ravishing him. He'd let Kaz take so many liberties, eager for teeth biting lips and tongues taking control. Maybe even hands under his shirt — let Jesper watch all that. 

Wylan clears his throat. The drink in front of him remains untouched, but he doesn't want it. His face feels hot, though. His whole body does. The world in his head is an imaginary one, but he isn't certain that Kaz can't see it too.

#i took some liberties with this prompt to make it work ngl #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #kylan #polycrows #six of crows #soc #asks #anon #kiss prompts #fics

[embernyxsometimes]

more crows as kids quotes:

kaz: I don't like Thursdays or Fridays

nina: what do you like about mondays and tuesdays and Wednesdays?

kaz: I don't.

nina: you don't like days?

kaz: No.

*before going fishing as a group*

wylan: Are we going to hurt the minnows when we spear them?

inej: we aren't spear fishing, sweetheart

inej: If you were in the hunger games, could you beat her?

jesper: YES

inej: *skeptical* even tho matthias is Russian?

wylan: This is my favorite table ever because it's brown. AND THERES GLITTER ON IT

nina: What makes a reptile a reptile?

wylan: I don't know anything because I've never read history.

kaz: that one brain cell is working hard today.

nina: *to every statement * THAT is FALSE

nina : You're being a menace

kaz: to be fair that's not an unusual occurrence.

nina: Just leave the damn kids alone.

nina: They could sting, but they don't. I could bite you but I DONT!

jesper: Sometimes they try to kill you and it's really annoying.

inej: *sarcastically* Yeahhhh "I love drinking battery acid that tastes like lemons"

kaz: I do. It's my favorite hobby.

inej: if you keep being annoying I'm going to speak in Spanish.

nina: That's okay I'm going to speak Material Gurl language.

inej: I'm a miracle baby because--

jesper: NO I DROPPED IT ON THE GROUND

inej: because my mom can't have kids

jesper: I can't eat this.

inej: But since my parents are divorced

jesper: I can't eat this!

inej: and my dad's wife has kids

jesper: I CANT eat this!

inej: Sometimes I get to be an only child

jesper: I CANT EAT THIS

inej: And sometimes I get to have siblings

jesper: DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I CANT EAT THIS???

matthias: *on hands and knees playing charades, panting like an animal.*

kaz: Is it from Minecraft?

matthias: Yes.

nina: A sheep

inej: A pig!

wylan: Lava!

#leigh bardugo #bookish #literature #kaz brekker #nina zenik #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #six of crows #shadow and bone #screw you netflix #incorrect quotes

[aphroditestummyrolls]

3+1 Colm and Wylan <3

Hey nonnie ☺️ thanks so much for joining in on this little game, I’m loving this story. Here’s a continuation of the scene I did for @its-tortle here.

CW for past child abuse

He wasn’t sure how he’d ever missed them before.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t feel them under his hand as he pulled Wylan close; or see them when Wylan rolled himself up to his hands and knees, and Jesper buried the both of them in the sheets in the low light of their room. But, in his defense, it was dark… he was distracted. And if he was so brilliantly observant that he didn’t even recognise Wylan after their first night together, Jesper supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that he missed this, too.

But it was different this time. He was certain that every plane and feature of that pretty face would be etched into his mind for the rest of his damned life, and he’d be infinitely better off for it. It had only been a week, and they’d been to and fro to all corners of the True Sea. They saved Ravka, saw the Darkling burned to ashes, and now they were home.

Both of them. He made Wylan a key, and everything.

Still, it wasn’t until the sun shone in on a bright new morning that Jesper saw the scars and truly processed that they were there.

He moved without thinking— thinking wasn’t exactly a Jesper talent— immediately taking his boyfriend’s waist. His back was to him, and he only jumped a little bit when he felt Jesper come up close behind him. With no other sensory distractions, there in the full light of day, Jesper traced the stark lines of reddish brown and healed silver. Wylan didn’t seem to really realise what he was doing at first, not until he rubbed his thumb across the deep impression of the belt buckle in his shoulder. It looked grotesquely smeared— as if it had been whipped down against the flesh with such force, it had to be stitched back together—

That was when Wylan bolted up and away from the bed. Jes was left with his hands around empty air, and his horrified expression staring at the wrinkled linen of his own shirt as Wylan pulled it around his shoulders.

“I… you don’t have to tell me what- what happened, but…” his throat was dry when he swallowed. “But just tell me who. Please.”

“That’s valiant of you, but they’re long gone by now.” Wylan took a long moment to come back to bed. “I was young. It was… I don’t want to talk about it— please, Jes.”

He told him all of it eventually. After they went to the edge of the world, relearned who they were, and decided that there was no part of life that wasn’t better together… Then, Wylan told him everything, and it still burned in Jesper’s chest to think about it.

“Jesper, what the Hell is that?”

His da was never the type to hide his feelings, but at least he had the good sense to whisper his absolute horror as Jesper tugged him to the other side of the pantry. Far enough away from Wylan’s ears, he glanced back.

His exhausted, overheated boyfriend was faceplanted into the kitchen table, pink shoulders practically glowing. He was blissfully unaware of Jesper’s damage control.

Wy would be so embarrassed if he knew.

“Jesper!” Colm hissed, but when Jes looked back at his father, all he saw was utter concern, almost heartbreak. “Who did that to that poor boy?”

Thanks for playing ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoyed!

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #six of crows #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #colm fahey #thanks for playing!

[sophierequests]

hey<33 congrats on 100 followers! i love your writing!

may i please have kaz brekker with 505 by the arctic monkeys? Thank you so so much<33

i crumble completely when you cry

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much <333 This song is just so ldjhsdljhdalh and having this in connection to Kaz Brekker is making my brain go brrrr. Thank you so much for requesting this, love! And I hope you like it! <333

Summary: After years of not seeing them, Kaz decides to find them again.

Genre: A tiny bit of angst (it's Kaz Brekker, what do you expect?), kinda fluffy, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Mention of his touch aversion, but no real explicit mention of his backstory, chronic pain, yearning and self-loathing, piss poor proofreading

He flexed the gloved hand that had previously rested on top of the crow’s head of his cane, letting his gaze wander over the vastness of the True Sea. The tight grip he had on it wasn’t able to take his mind off the absurdity of the situation. Not even the heavy crashing of waves against the front of the ship helped to stop his thoughts from wandering. Wandering back to a time when he still knew what he could expect after disembarking the boat.

Only mere days prior, he would have never imagined taking this same route ever again. It was something that he was absolutely fine with - never seeing you again, that is. At least that was what he told himself. He had left you in his past a long time ago, and that is where you should have stayed. And that is where you would have stayed if he would have just thrown away all those damned letters.

“Kaz? I think these belong to you.” The rhythmic scratching of the fountain pen against paper stopped abruptly after Jesper entered Kaz’s office, holding a neatly bound stack of unopened letters in one hand and the requested blueprints in the other. He immediately regretted asking that question as soon as he saw his friend’s startled expression.

“Why do you have these letters?” No matter how steady his voice sounded, there was a storm brewing up inside him.

“I, uhm, I accidentally knocked over the box they were in while looking for the blueprints in the storage room.” Jesper stammered, not daring to move from his spot in the doorway. “All of them were unopened, so I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought, Jesper. They were not yours to take. You should’ve left them in the storage.” His lips were pressed into a thin line as he watched the Zemeni boy shift on his feet uncomfortably. He knew that he didn’t do this to spite him, but the memories still stung. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes fall shut. “Put them on the table. I’ll deal with it later.”

“Got it, boss.” Jesper breathed, hurrying over to his desk and dropping everything on the table before quickly leaving the room.

At this point, he had completely forgotten about the letters he had stowed away with any other unimportant document all these years ago. He didn’t have the heart to throw them away back then, but he couldn’t bring himself to open them either. It took him a while to forget their presence, but eventually, the thoughts became sparse, their existence only occasionally coming up in his mind.

One of his gloved hands reached out to take the pile of papers, not knowing what exactly to do with them. Even though it hadn’t even been that long since he had received them, the paper of the envelopes had already started to darken, noticeably having been changed by time. Carefully, he removed his gloves, bare hands untying the string that kept the stack together. He let his fingers run over the almost fading ink. Every single one was addressed exactly the same.

Kaz Brekker

Crow Club

Ketterdam

Kerch

Not even the address of the sender changed.

Y/N Y/L/N

Ivets

Ravka

Kaz hadn’t been to Ravka in years. He hadn’t been to the town of Ivets in years. And worst of all, he hadn’t seen your face in years. He didn’t even know if you still lived there. No, he didn’t even know if you were still alive. The thought alone frightened him, however, he had no one else to blame but himself.

If it had been any other day, he would’ve probably ended up putting the letters away again, maybe for good this time. Absent-mindedly, his hand moved to find a paper-knife, carefully slicing open the stack of papers in front of him until he was only faced with a mountain of handwritten texts. Hesitantly, he picked up the oldest one, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to read.

A harsh gust of wind, that almost managed to knock off his hat, shook him from his thoughts. It wouldn’t be long until the ship would arrive at the harbour of Os Alta. From there he would merely have to face a multiple-hour coach ride and then he would be able to stand in front of your door again. That’s what he hoped for at least. Maybe it was already too late. What if you had already moved away? What if you had found somebody else? What if you didn’t want to see him?

It was actually almost laughable to assume that you would even want to see him again. No matter what kind of feelings the two of you once harboured for each other. But, even though he was reluctant to admit it, his feelings were not gone. What you had was the closest thing to love he had ever known and he would do everything in his power to rectify his past mistakes. He just had to convince himself that this was the right decision.

As soon as he stepped off the boat, he felt the sudden urge to abandon his plan. He could simply turn around and make his way back to Ketterdam, forgetting about you all over again. Or at least trying to. How would this sever him, though? What would it prove? That Kaz Brekker - Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel - was afraid of confrontation? That he didn’t even dare to talk to a person he used to think the world of? That he was foolish enough to let you go, but also couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

Without letting his thoughts overtake him, he sought out the first coach that went in his desired direction, preparing himself for an almost one-day-long coach ride. He watched as the landscapes around him changed from the colourful buildings of a buzzing harbour city to the striking lush fields that lay outside Os Alta. But just as quickly as his gaze had been pulled in by the view outside, his mind was seized by memories of the past - memories of you.

He remembered when he saw you the first time. He remembered offering you a job, a place to stay, and something akin to a family to rely on. And that’s where it should have ended. You should’ve just been another member of the Dregs. Somebody he could stay neutral to - a simple co-worker. You weren’t. Unexpectedly, you had sneaked your way into his heart. Whether that happened through you spending hours on hours in his office, or through you being a valuable addition to the Dregs, as he called you, he didn’t know. The only thing he knew was that he had been a lost cause since the day you stumbled into his life.

However, things went awry back at home and you had no other choice but to leave Ketterdam and travel back to Ivets. It may have been childish, but you had insisted on regularly writing him letters, telling him about your week or recalling past jobs that had stuck with you. Much to your surprise, he replied to every single one of them without a fail. It was an even bigger surprise when he began paying you the occasional visit, whenever business was slow or he just needed to take some time off. All under the cover of keeping track of one of his most valuable investments, of course. You both knew that was absolute bullshit though. There was way more hidden behind the surface of your supposed friendship, no matter how many times you would try to deny it.

This routine wasn’t able to survive the malice of the Barrel. Indulging in attachments may be sustainable for someone like the other Dregs, but he just couldn’t risk it. It would only have been a matter of time until you would’ve been brought into the crossfire of his lifestyle and that was a thing he wouldn’t risk. So eventually his letters got shorter and more sparse, his visits became basically non-existent and the connection you two had got harshly severed by his own fears. Nevertheless, you still continued to write letters. He imagined that you would stop after a while of not getting any answers back. That never happened. The letters still kept coming, albeit not as frequent as they used to. They stayed unopened, locked away in the furthest corner of the storage room he could find. And whenever a new one would arrive, it would join the other ones on that same shelf. He didn’t even want to imagine how you felt.

The day had already vanished, and a storm was currently raging in the sky as the coach came to a halt outside the city walls. His leg ached from being in the cramped space of the carriage for hours on end with no possibility of taking off some pressure. Dismissing the discomfort, Kaz forced himself out of the door, stepping on the unruly, and by now wet, cobblestone of Ivets for the first time in years. The streets were still moderately busy with people trudging into taverns to get out of the rain or making their way back to their respective homes. It wasn’t even close to being as busy as Ketterdam was during the same time of the day, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t here to strike up a deal, complete a job or take care of business - that would have probably been way easier for him to manage. Human emotions didn’t work like numbers, which you could quantify and asses on a neat spreadsheet. He was going to have to be genuinely vulnerable and honest. No lies, no deception and no alternative plans.

As he moved through the narrow alleyway and steep roads, the rhythmic clicking of his cane was the only thing he tried to concentrate on. Not the sceptical glares he got from the townspeople, not the throbbing in his leg and most definitely the impending conflict that he probably had to face. It was a futile attempt, but it seemed to be the only thing keeping him from going insane. The closer he got to your home, the closer he got to turning around. Somehow, he still kept going, following the internal compass that would always lead him back to you. No matter how many years he had spent with trying to forget you.

The small house that you inherited from your grandparents still stood at the same place where it was when he last visited. It was situated close to the edge of the city, a lush garden now gracing the front of the house. You had to be there, he thought, pushing away his well-nurtured doubts about your safety. Even though most of the unlit windows didn’t give any indication of someone being home, there appeared to be a gloomy light coming from one of the lower rooms, therefore he had no excuse to turn around now. The only thing he had to do now was knock.

He almost jumped when the creaky door opened and a waft of light hit his eyes that seemed to have adjusted to the darkness of the night a little too well. He had already knocked at your door without even realizing it.

“Don’t you know how late it is? What do you…” The person standing at the door wanted to berate whoever had the nerve to disturb them in the middle of the night, but their voice subsided after they recognized the darkly clad man on their porch. In an instant he knew that it was you. Kaz would know that voice everywhere.

And as his eyes adapted to the glow coming from inside the house, this assumption proved to be right. You were half-hidden by the door, a defensive stance that you had very likely adopted from your years spent in the Barrel. He noted that you hadn’t changed one bit. Of course, you looked a bit more mature than the last time he had seen you, but he didn’t miss the way your expression and mannerisms were almost identical to what he remembered.

“Kaz?” The tone of your voice was so faint that he almost didn’t hear you saying his name. You opened up a bit more, angling your upper body to be a bit closer to him, whilst still remaining inside the hallway. It wasn’t too unexpected that you would be hesitant to greet him, especially since it had been quite a while since you had gotten any sign of life from him.

He wanted to answer. To say something. Maybe even to apologize, but the words didn’t dare to leave his mouth. Every intricate dialogue option he had carefully crafted out in his head completely disappeared upon seeing you. He could have guessed that this would hurt, however, the upset look on your face felt like a dagger had been thrust into his back.

“Y/N…”

“What are you doing here?” Your voice almost broke on the last syllable. You really thought that you would never see him again. He could’ve been just another corpse on the Reaper’s Barge for all you knew. But he was here - alive and as far as you could see, unharmed. “Saints, what happened? You completely ignored all of my letters! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“I…”

“And now you show up at my door - in the middle of the night, I might add - looking like a wet dog! I really can’t believe you, Kaz.” You didn’t yell. You didn’t even raise your voice. But he knew damn well that it took everything in you to not completely go off on him. And you would be totally justified to do so. He waited for you to close the door and never speak to him again. Instead, you only shook your head in a mixture of disbelief and something akin to…relief? One of your hands let go off the door you had been clinging to, moving forward just enough to grab his coat and pull him inside and out of the rain. He didn’t even have time to protest before he was standing inside your hallway. “Saints, come inside before you catch a cold.”

He watched as you gave him a bit more space, still surprisingly mindful of his touch aversion. A small smile crept on his face as he saw the small knife you had kept hidden in the hand that rested behind the door. It was quickly hoisted into a specifically made bracket next to one of the sidetables next to you. You really hadn’t changed at all.

“Y/N,” He started, thinking that you would shut him down again, but you only stared at him expectantly. “I can try to explain if you want me to. If you’ll have me for that long, that is.”

“You better give me the lengthiest explanation you got, Brekker.” You chuckled, turning on your heels and walking towards your living room. An unspoken invitation for him to follow you.

The warmth emitting from your house made him painfully aware of how soaked his clothes actually were. The layers upon layers of clothing almost seemed to weigh him down, and it also did not manage to improve the pain in his legs. He almost flinched as another burning sting of hurt shot through his body. And he really thought he did his best to hide it, though nothing ever managed to slip past you.

“Sit down. I’ll get you some dry clothes and numbing cream.”

“You don’t have-”

“I have to or I’ll go mad watching you shake like a damn willow tree. Now sit.”

And sit he did.

You got him fresh clothes and numbing cream, as you promised, observing him intently as he applied the cold substance on his bad leg. After everything, he eventually had to begin talking. He had never particularly been good at explaining his feelings. It had never been relevant for him to do so after all. But he knew what was at stake, and he would not let this chance go to waste again.

“I missed you, Kaz.” Your statement caught him completely off guard, stealing any further words from his mind. “Even though you were being a huge asshole and I thought that I would never see you again.”

“I missed you too.” The words left his mouth before he could even consider the implications of what he just said. Coming out of his mouth, they weren’t just meant as an empty pleasantry. “I’d always come back to you.”

#kaz brekker x reader #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine

[kazbiter]

it's been too long since I've posted about kaz brekker I miss that freaky little weirdo who stole a painting from Van Eck just to prove he could and was a little shit to him abt it when he brought it up and loves jesper and made a ur mom joke on a mission and turned Pekka's club into "The Silver Six" because he really does love his damn friends and stopped to pet a dog and has a bad haircut and is fighting every day to allow himself love and hope even though the world has been almost always cruel to him and does the books for the crow club in his head and used every last cent to his name to buy off inej's indenture for the expressed purpose that she could be free...

leigh bardugo u rlly popped off with that one girlie

#leigh bardugo #six of crows #kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #soc kaz #kaz soc #kanej #kaz x inej #grishaverse #soc duology #dirtyhands #bastard of the barrel

[aceofwhump]

Aaaaace! I had the wonderfully whumpiest dream about Kaz last night and now I Need More. So throw your best fics at me!

💜💜

Hi! Sorry this is so damn late!! Here are some of my fav Kaz whump fics (although I have not yet read a lot of Kaz fics it turns out so if anyone has recs please share them!)

When you sleep, you die by multifandom_damnation Summary: There came a moment in every man's life when your body refused to listen to your commands no matter how much you threatened and warned, and even as he tried to stay awake, Kaz felt his entire being beginning to shut down and his eyes fluttered shut against his will, and his last thought before he was consumed by the toothy maw of darkness was unspeakable agony.

Laughter and Bullets by Impala_Cherry_Trickster Summary: Kaz is injured, but he ignores it to take in the moment of peace between the Crows

Gratuitous Hurt Kaz fic by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) Summary: Unconnected oneshots of Kaz being hurt and other people looking after him!!!

fallen and he can't get up by bekahfics Summary: when kaz has a bad pain day, inej and jesper are there to pick up the pieces.

A Shot in the Dark by YellowBelly Summary: Kaz saves Matthias from drowning. Given the context of plot, this causes problems for everyone.

When It Rains... by engagemythrusters Summary: ... it pours. Kaz Brekker knew pain well enough. But knowing pain never stopped it from happening, and it certainly didn't make anything any easier. Really, it might just have made things worse. The good thing was, it could only go uphill from there.

#fic recs #whump #mod's fic recs #mod replies #ask #kaz brekker

[lonslibrary]

 best characterization lines from the crows—nina zenik

“She shoved one of the cakes from the cofee service into her mouth and mumbled, ‘What do you want, Kaz?’

‘You have crumbs on your cleavage.’ 

‘Don’t care,’ she said, taking another bite of cake. ‘So hungry.” 

Kaz shook his head, amused and impressed at how quickly Nina dropped the wise Grisha priestess act. She’d missed her true calling on the stage.”

such. an. underrated relationship. ik people love to talk about the lines where she bullies him for his hair but i love this crumbs on cleavage line AND the fact that kaz truly is impressed by her skills not as a grisha, but as a performer>>> danielle galligan mentioned she used that last sentence to characterize her own performance as nina which i also love. 

“‘Of course every time [the mark] pats his back pocket or the front of his coat, what is he doing? He’s telling every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub.’

‘Saints, grumbled Nina. ‘I’ve probably done that.’ 

‘Everyone does,’ said Inej. 

Jesper lifted a brow. “Not everyone.” 

‘That’s only because you never have anything in your wallet,’ Nina shot back. 

‘Mean.’”

i adore her honesty and sass and everything about her honestly 

“Nina had wronged him, but she’d done it to protect her people. She’d hurt him, but she’d attempted everything in her power to make things right. She’d shown him in a thousand ways that she was honourable and strong and generous and very human, maybe more vividly human than anyone he’d ever known. And if she was, then Grisha weren’t inherently evil. They were like anyone else—full of potential to do great good, and also great harm. To ignore that would make Matthias the monster.” 

i LOVE this because nina from matthias’ pov is always the best and this quote says as much about him as it does about her. get yourself a girl who will change your mind from its deadset ways that you’ve been brainwashed into since birth.

“Matthias was already up, seeing to their weapons. Nina stretched and yawned, adding a little arch to her back, pleased at the way his gaze darted over her figure before guiltily jumping back to the rifle he was loading. Gratifying. She’d practically thrown herself at him the other day. If Matthias didn’t want to take advantage of the offer, she could make damn sure he regretted it.” 

i’ve read this book over ten times and just made solid eye contact with this line. i heard people spell girlboss like nina zenik. i also heard people were right. 

WARNING ⚠️ last quote is from the chapter 39 —skip to avoid spoilers or heartbreak 🚨🚨

“Nina screamed, a howl that tore from the black space where her heart had beat only moments before. She searched for his pulse, for the light and force that had been Matthias...She felt the river around her, the black waters of grief...

‘Come back,’ she demanded. He breathed. His eyelids fluttered and opened. His eyes shone black.” 

scarlet witch vibes anyone??!! what is grief, if not love persevering? her powers develop beautifully all the way into king of scars and rule of wolves. 

aaaand my favorite series is back :)) comment below any quotes i missed! 

kaz’s version | wylan’s version | jesper’s version | nina’s version | matthias’s version | inej’s version

#six of crows #nina zenik #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #Kaz Brekker #inej ghafa #matthias helvar #helnik #jesper fahey #wesper #wylan van eck #kanej #scarlet witch #nikolai lanstov #soc inej #six of crows au #leigh bardugo #netflix shadow and bone #ben barnes #the darkling #six of crows jesper #six of crows quotes #jack wolfe #danielle galligan #shadow and bone season 2 #grishaverse #pjo #comfort character #rule of wolves