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galadrien02 · 10 days ago

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BUCKY'S FACE CAUGHT ME OFF GUARDD HELPPP LMAO

electric touch

summary: You technically aren't a member of the New Avengers, but you live at the Watchtower and help the team out during missions. The most interesting part? Bucky seems to have a crush on you, the quiet, brooding, mysterious woman. word count: 13.9k+ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader notes: one of my fav tropes i've seen with thunderbolts!bucky is the secret wife trope, so here's my take on it :) this is also only my second time writing for bucky, and my first time writing smut for him, so let me know if it's accurate! warnings/tags: takes place after thunderbolts*, bamf!reader, grumpy x grumpy (but really bucky is kinda sunshine?), secret relationship/marriage, reader is "brooding" and "cold", bucky is a lover boy, smut, slight sub!bucky, slight dom!reader, unprotected piv, creampie, light violence, mention of injury

The Watchtower had been quiet for exactly six minutes when John's voice shattered the peace. "He's doing it again."

Yelena sighed dramatically, not looking up from her phone. "Who’s doing what again?"

John jerked his chin toward the kitchen counter, where Bucky leaned casually, arms crossed. His eyes were fixed across the common area, following you as you silently poured a mug of coffee.

Ava glanced up from the couch, eyes rolling. "Oh. Barnes."

"Again?" Alexei chuckled from his seat next to Yelena, slapping the table enthusiastically. "He’s staring like sad puppy, no? Maybe we throw him a bone?"

Yelena finally glanced up, smirking. "Careful, Dad. Barnes has super hearing. He might overhear your plans."

Alexei scoffed, shrugging his massive shoulders. "So he hears. I say it to his face: Barnes, ask the scary one out already."

Bucky turned slightly, arching a brow. "I’m good, thanks."

"No, clearly you are not," Alexei persisted, enjoying himself. "All this mooning and sighing and staring. Pathetic."

"I’m not mooning."

John snorted. "You’re definitely mooning."

Bucky glared halfheartedly, shifting uncomfortably as you moved past them silently, mug in hand, offering nothing but a faint nod. Once you vanished back down the hall, the conversation reignited in earnest.

Bob glanced up from his seat nearby, his brow pinched slightly in mild confusion. "Wait—so Bucky likes Y/N?"

"Thank you, Bob," Ava murmured dryly. "Keep up."

"But…" Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "Has he even tried talking to her?"

Yelena smirked at Bucky. "Yeah, Bucky, have you even tried talking?"

Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fighting a smile. "I talk plenty."

Ava laughed softly. "You stare plenty. Talking, not so much."

"Just ask her out," John said, crossing his arms smugly. "Worst she could do is ignore you—like she already does."

The team burst into laughter. Even Bob managed a shy chuckle. Bucky shook his head, smiling faintly as he turned toward the hallway you'd taken moments before.

"Maybe," he muttered dryly, setting down his empty coffee cup. "Someday."

"Maybe someday," Alexei echoed dramatically. "This is tragedy."

Bucky ignored the loud chatter behind him, wandering slowly toward your shared quarters at the far end of the hall.

---

Inside your quiet room, you sat cross-legged on the bed, reading calmly. You didn’t look up when he closed the door behind him.

"Your teammates are idiots," you murmured, turning a page.

Bucky smiled softly, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. He walked toward you, sinking easily onto the bed beside you, immediately leaning his head onto your shoulder. "They just think you're intimidating."

"I am intimidating."

"Yes, sweetheart." He tilted his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. "Terrifying."

You hummed quietly, setting your book aside as his metal fingers gently traced over your wrist. You shifted, finally looking directly at him, raising a brow. "They also think you're pining hopelessly."

Bucky laughed, rich and genuine, nudging your shoulder affectionately. "Who says I'm not?"

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth curved upwards faintly. "James."

He smiled, teasing gently, eyes bright. "What?"

You sighed, feigning irritation, but the softness in your gaze betrayed you. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," he agreed easily, leaning closer, lips brushing tenderly along your jawline. "But I'm yours."

You huffed softly, fingers sliding gently into his hair, pulling him closer until your lips met, warm and familiar and private.

"Unfortunately," you teased softly as you parted, foreheads resting together.

He smiled brightly, utterly content. "Someday we should tell them."

"Eventually," you conceded dryly, settling back against his chest comfortably. "But would you really take away my only source of entertainment?"

Bucky chuckled quietly, his fingers brushing lightly along your shoulder. "I wouldn’t dream of it."

You hummed, eyes falling shut as you relaxed against him, the quiet settling around you both.

"I still think we should at least tell Yelena," he mused after a moment. "She’s pretty sharp. Might figure it out on her own."

You scoffed softly. "Please. She thinks you’re pining after me. Clearly, her observational skills aren’t that impressive."

Bucky laughed, pressing another quick kiss against your temple. "Harsh."

"True," you corrected.

He smiled against your skin, his metal arm tightening around you slightly. "Fair enough."

The comfortable silence stretched between you, only broken by your quiet breathing and the distant laughter of the team down the hall. After a moment, you turned slightly, glancing at him with a faint smirk.

"Barnes," you said, voice dry and amused. "Were you really mooning?"

He tilted his head back, groaning dramatically. "Not you too."

You shrugged casually, barely hiding your smile. "I'm just confirming. For clarity."

"Well, I wasn’t," he insisted, eyes sparkling. "I was just... observing."

"Right," you drawled. "Observing."

"Exactly," he nodded solemnly, biting back a smile. "Observing my scary, intimidating, secretly soft-hearted wife."

"Don’t push it," you warned, poking his chest gently. "I’ve got a reputation to uphold."

"Trust me, sweetheart," Bucky teased, voice warm and gentle, "no one's doubting your reputation."

You huffed again, leaning up to kiss him softly, muttering against his lips, "You're lucky you're cute."

"I know," he grinned brightly, eyes crinkling as he drew you closer again. "Very lucky."

You rolled your eyes, hiding your smile against his chest as the comfortable silence returned, content to enjoy each other’s company without interruptions.

---

Two days later, you wandered into the common area, pausing briefly as you spotted the team huddled around the TV, eyes glued to the screen. "What's this?" you asked dryly.

"Movie night," Ava replied, glancing back at you. "Join us?"

You shook your head slightly, making your way toward the kitchen. "I'll pass."

Yelena smirked, not taking her eyes off the TV. "Shocking."

Bucky looked up, catching your gaze. "C’mon, doll. Stay for a little bit."

You paused, arching an eyebrow pointedly at him. "Why would I?"

He shrugged innocently, leaning back into the couch. "For the pleasure of our charming company?"

John snorted. "Real subtle, Barnes."

Alexei chuckled, tossing popcorn into his mouth. "He tries."

You ignored them, continuing your path to the coffee machine. You barely managed to pour yourself a cup before you heard Bucky's quiet footsteps approaching. He leaned casually against the counter beside you, arms folded, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"Nice pajamas," he teased quietly, glancing at your oversized sweatshirt and leggings.

"Keep it up," you muttered dryly. "See if you ever get to borrow them again."

He chuckled softly, leaning in slightly closer, voice low and warm. "We’re overdue for date night."

You sipped your coffee, glancing at him sideways. "You’re getting needy."

"Maybe," he admitted shamelessly, nudging you gently. "But I prefer 'romantic.'"

"Gross."

"You love it," he murmured warmly.

"Unfortunately," you agreed softly, finally turning toward him. "Fine. Date night. But I'm picking."

"As long as it’s not another stakeout, sweetheart."

"No promises," you teased, sipping your coffee again as you turned away. "Now go watch your movie."

He chuckled, shaking his head fondly as you disappeared down the hallway. When he turned back toward the couch, he found the entire team staring at him, various expressions of disbelief on their faces. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

Alexei pointed at him accusingly. "You talked. Actual conversation."

Ava raised an eyebrow. "She didn't stab you."

Yelena shook her head, smiling slightly. "Barnes, you might actually have a chance."

"Yeah, maybe in twenty years," John snorted.

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, settling back onto the couch comfortably. "Told you—I talk plenty."

Bob nodded slowly, genuinely impressed. "Good job, Bucky."

"Thanks, Bob." Bucky smiled, eyes flicking briefly toward the hall. "I'm working on it."

---

The following evening, you leaned quietly against the wall, watching with mild interest as Bucky sparred against John on the training mats. The rest of the team lingered around the room, half-training, half-observing the two men in action.

Alexei crossed his arms, grinning broadly. "Come on, Barnes! Use metal arm—show Walker who's boss."

"He's trying to train," Yelena drawled from beside you. "Not murder our teammate."

Alexei shrugged, unconvinced. "Little murder builds character."

You didn't react outwardly, but your lips twitched slightly in amusement.

Across the mats, John ducked away from Bucky’s fist, panting slightly. "You holding back, Barnes?"

Bucky smirked, circling him easily. "Just going easy on you."

John scoffed. "Bullshit. You’re distracted."

"Distracted?" Bucky echoed mildly, his eyes briefly flicking in your direction.

John followed his gaze knowingly, smirking. "Yeah. Distracted."

Bucky sighed dramatically, rolling his shoulders as he pretended to think. "Right. Got my mind on other things."

"Or other people," Ava muttered dryly from the punching bag.

Yelena smirked, elbowing you gently. "Look at that. Bucky still pining away."

You kept your expression neutral, voice flat. "Tragic."

On the mat, Bucky caught John's fist in his metal hand, twisting lightly. "Ready to yield yet?"

John grumbled, pulling his hand free. "Fine, fine. Jesus."

Bucky chuckled, stepping back easily, eyes sliding again to you. "Who's next?"

Yelena nudged you lightly. "Why not you, Y/N? Barnes clearly wants your attention."

You exhaled slowly, stepping away from the wall toward the mat. "Fine."

The team fell into immediate silence as you moved toward Bucky, standing opposite him calmly. He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curved into a teasing grin. "Careful, doll. I bruise easily."

"You’ll live," you muttered, stretching your arms briefly.

John backed off the mats, smirking. "This oughta be good."

Bucky circled you slowly, voice low enough only you could hear. "You gonna let me win?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good," he murmured, lunging forward easily, eyes bright with amusement.

You sidestepped him effortlessly, landing a swift blow to his ribs. Bucky laughed softly, twisting away, clearly enjoying himself.

"Think they're flirting?" Alexei loudly whispered to Yelena.

"If by flirting you mean trying to kill each other," Ava remarked dryly, "then yes."

Bucky caught your wrist gently, pulling you slightly toward him. "Having fun yet?"

You rolled your eyes slightly, easily slipping your wrist from his grip. "Always."

"Good," he chuckled, stepping closer, voice dropping softer. "Me too."

"You’re ridiculous," you murmured quietly.

"I know," he agreed cheerfully, just before you swept his leg neatly, sending him sprawling onto the mats with a loud thud.

The team collectively winced.

Bucky blinked up at you, laughing as you offered him your hand to pull him up. "Had enough?" you asked calmly.

He took your hand, pulling himself smoothly to his feet, voice warm and teasing as he leaned close. "Not even close."

"Gross," John muttered.

"Agreed," Ava smirked, returning her attention to her training bag.

Bucky stepped back reluctantly, smiling easily as he rubbed his ribs. "Thanks for the match, doll."

You rolled your eyes, hiding your faint smile. “Just to be clear, I’m still waiting for date night. This doesn’t count.”

Bucky chuckled quietly, running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. “Fair enough. Tomorrow?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Demanding, Barnes.”

He smirked softly. “Consider it enthusiastic.”

“Same difference,” you muttered dryly, turning away. “Tomorrow works.”

You started back toward the edge of the mats, ignoring the curious looks from the team. Ava raised an eyebrow as you passed her.

“You okay, Barnes?” John called out teasingly. “Your ego survive that?”

Bucky snorted, dusting himself off easily. “Think I'll recover.”

Alexei shook his head, looking impressed. “She is formidable opponent. Why you not recruit her officially, Yelena?”

Yelena shrugged lightly, glancing toward you. “Because I value my life.”

Bob smiled faintly, watching Bucky closely. “You sure you’re okay, Bucky?”

Bucky waved him off casually, smirking. “Don’t worry about me, Bob. I've handled worse.”

“You’re sure?” Bob asked again, earnest concern in his voice. “She’s pretty tough.”

Bucky laughed warmly, eyes briefly flicking toward you as you leaned against the wall again. “Trust me—I noticed.”

“Clearly,” John snickered, elbowing Ava gently. “Look at that face. Pure puppy dog.”

Ava rolled her eyes fondly. “Careful, Walker, or he might actually kill you.”

“I might,” Bucky agreed, eyes playful as he reached for a towel, wiping his face casually.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bob wondered quietly, looking genuinely puzzled again.

“Yeah,” Yelena echoed dryly. “Why don’t you, Barnes?”

Bucky sighed dramatically, shaking his head in mock despair. “I told you—I’m working on it.”

You watched quietly from your spot against the wall, expression neutral, coffee mug clasped in your hands. Bucky’s gaze caught yours briefly, warmth flickering across his eyes for just a moment before he turned away.

Yelena sighed dramatically, standing and stretching her arms lazily over her head. “Tragic,” she said flatly. “Come on, let’s wrap up. Alexei promised pizza.”

Alexei beamed proudly. “Extra pineapple for Bob!”

“I don’t actually like pineapple—” Bob started softly, then sighed and smiled. “Never mind.”

John clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “You’ll learn, Bob.”

The team slowly started to file out of the training room, chatting loudly amongst themselves. Bucky lingered behind, waiting until the others had vanished before moving quietly toward you.

“Pizza?” he asked quietly, nudging your shoulder gently.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Fine.”

He smiled warmly, leaning closer and murmuring quietly. “You’re secretly excited, admit it.”

You snorted softly, hiding a faint smile behind your mug. “Don’t push it.”

Bucky’s smile widened into a grin as he straightened again, falling easily into step beside you. “Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you muttered dryly, sipping your coffee. “Wouldn’t want to have to hurt you again.”

He laughed warmly, eyes bright with affection as you moved quietly toward the elevator. “You love me too much to hurt me.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping into the elevator beside him, voice calm and casual. “Don’t be so sure.”

He smiled softly, watching you from the corner of his eye, quiet amusement lingering between you both. The elevator doors slid shut quietly, enclosing you both in comfortable silence.

---

You stepped quietly into the common area, where the team had already settled around the table, chatting loudly. Bob smiled at you shyly as he moved over to make space.

Alexei waved enthusiastically. "Y/N! You join us, excellent! Come, come, sit!"

You sank smoothly into the chair next to Bob, giving a faint nod. Across from you, Bucky's eyes lifted briefly, lingering on you with mild curiosity. You met his gaze evenly, then casually unzipped your half-zip pullover just a little bit further, revealing the faintest glimpse of delicate white lace beneath.

Bucky's eyes flicked immediately downward, then shot quickly back up to yours, clearly startled. He shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat softly.

"Alright there, Barnes?" John asked casually, reaching for a slice.

"Yeah," Bucky murmured, forcing his gaze down to the pizza. "Fine."

You ate quietly, barely participating in conversation but very aware of Bucky's occasional discreet glances your way. Every subtle movement you made—reaching for a napkin, shifting slightly—gave him brief but intentional glimpses of lace against your skin.

Bucky swallowed hard, eyes narrowing slightly each time he caught sight of you, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

"You’re quiet tonight, Y/N," Ava commented casually, glancing over at you.

"She is always quiet," Alexei scoffed, grinning broadly. "Like silent assassin, no?"

You shrugged slightly, voice low. "Just tired."

"Or plotting," John muttered teasingly.

"Possibly," you agreed blandly, ignoring Bucky's slightly tense posture. After a few more minutes, you rose smoothly from your chair, setting your napkin down quietly. "I'm turning in."

"So soon?" Alexei called, looking disappointed. "Night still young!"

"Goodnight," you replied dryly, heading quietly toward the hallway.

You felt Bucky’s gaze on your back, heavy and heated. You barely made it halfway to the bedroom when you heard his chair scrape back, followed closely by Alexei's loud chuckle and John's amused muttering.

You entered the room first, stepping calmly inside, hearing the door click shut quietly behind Bucky a few moments later. You glanced back at him casually, watching as he leaned heavily against the door, eyes dark.

"You really enjoy torturing me, don't you?" he murmured dryly, his voice low and rough.

You tilted your head slightly, feigning confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He stepped toward you slowly, expression skeptical. "Really?"

You arched an eyebrow innocently. "Problem?"

"Yeah," he muttered softly, his eyes trailing slowly downward, lingering pointedly on the now-visible lace beneath your shirt. "That’s a problem."

You shrugged casually, turning away from him and starting to pull off your pullover, leaving you standing comfortably in leggings and your white lace bra. "Just a bra, Barnes."

He huffed softly, moving closer until he stood right behind you, hands gently settling on your hips. "It’s more than just a bra, doll."

You tilted your head back slightly against his chest, lips twitching faintly. "Punishment for delaying date night."

He groaned softly, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "You’re cruel."

"Maybe," you conceded calmly, turning slowly in his arms to face him. Your eyes softened slightly as you reached up, gently cupping his jaw. "But you deserve it."

He sighed dramatically, but his mouth curved into a faint smirk as his lips brushed lightly against yours. "Fine. Guilty."

Your lips met again slowly, soft and teasing at first, then gradually deeper. You sighed quietly against his mouth, sliding your hands into his hair, tugging gently. He gripped your hips a little tighter, pulling you closer until your bodies pressed together firmly.

You pulled away gently after a few more lingering kisses, smiling faintly at his dazed expression. "I'm taking a shower. Alone."

Bucky groaned softly again, giving you something close to a pout as he reluctantly released you. "Really?"

"Really," you replied firmly, stepping back toward the bathroom. "Consider it payback."

"Sweetheart," he started pleadingly, reaching for your hand, eyes wide and hopeful.

You shook your head, lips twitching slightly with amusement. "My decision stands."

He sighed heavily, dramatically collapsing onto the bed, watching you move toward the bathroom door with exaggerated despair. "You're killing me."

"You'll live," you said dryly, shooting him one final teasing glance before disappearing into the bathroom.

You shut the door quietly, smiling faintly to yourself as you heard him mutter a quiet, resigned curse on the other side.

---

You woke slowly the next morning, blinking sleepily in the muted sunlight filtering through the curtains. Bucky’s steady breathing was warm against your neck, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. You shifted slightly, feeling him stir behind you.

"Morning," you murmured softly.

He hummed sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss against your shoulder. "Morning, sweetheart."

"Still pouting?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted, voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled gently against your neck. "You’re mean."

"You deserved it," you murmured quietly, shifting back against him slightly.

He hummed softly, lips brushing warmly against your skin. "Maybe. But you enjoy it way too much."

"Maybe," you echoed dryly, feeling his hand slip from your waist down toward your hip, fingers tracing slowly beneath the edge of your shirt.

Bucky’s lips moved lazily over your shoulder, teeth grazing gently as his leg slid slowly between yours, pressing softly until your breath caught. His metal hand drifted lower, fingertips teasing the waistband of your underwear.

"James," you warned quietly, eyes closing slowly.

"Hm?" he murmured innocently, pressing a warm kiss just below your ear.

You sighed softly, relaxing slightly against him. "We should probably—"

A loud knock at the door shattered the quiet moment. Bucky groaned deeply, dropping his forehead heavily onto your shoulder.

"Barnes!" Yelena’s voice called sharply through the door. "Alexei made pancakes. And he’s offended you’re not here."

Bucky sighed dramatically against your skin, hand withdrawing reluctantly. "Tell him I’m busy."

Yelena paused a moment before knocking again, harder. "No. Get up. He’ll mope."

You rolled your eyes, lightly patting Bucky’s thigh. "Duty calls."

"Don’t care," he muttered petulantly, tightening his arm around your waist again. "I want pancakes with you, not them."

"Barnes!" Yelena snapped again, louder now. "Don’t make me break the door."

"Alright, alright," Bucky called back irritably, sighing heavily as he finally released you, rolling onto his back dramatically. "Be right there."

You turned onto your side, watching him quietly, eyebrow raised faintly. "Tragic."

"Very," he agreed solemnly, glaring half-heartedly at the ceiling.

You leaned over, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his jawline before standing smoothly from the bed. "I'll make it up to you later."

Bucky’s pout softened into a hopeful smirk. "Promise?"

"Maybe," you said dryly, walking to your dresser. "Now get up, Barnes. Can’t keep the kids waiting."

He sighed loudly, reluctantly dragging himself out of bed as you quietly slipped into your leggings. "You sure you don’t want to stay in bed? I’ll fake an injury."

"You’re pathetic," you murmured, lips twitching faintly as you headed toward the door. "Now move."

He groaned softly again, following you toward the door. "Fine. But I reserve the right to sulk."

"You always do," you muttered, stepping out into the hallway without another glance, leaving him shaking his head fondly behind you.

---

Later in the day, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, eating an apple while reading a book. The rest of the team was scattered around—Yelena, Alexei, and Bob chatting animatedly by the fridge, John and Ava lazily lounging on the couch in the living room, TV quietly droning.

You barely looked up when Bucky approached, quietly leaning next to you, close enough for your shoulders to brush. He crossed his arms casually, eyes fixed on your face with a faint smile.

"Got us reservations at Il Mulino tonight," he murmured softly, voice low enough that only you could hear.

You took another bite of your apple, flipping the page. "I don’t want Italian."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Since when don’t you want Italian?"

"Since now," you replied evenly, eyes not leaving your page. "I want a burger."

Bucky chuckled softly, bumping your shoulder gently with his. "You’re killin’ me, doll. It’s impossible to get into that burger place of yours last minute."

"Red Hook Tavern," you corrected calmly. "And I have faith in you, Barnes."

He sighed dramatically, nudging you again. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll figure something out. But you owe me."

You finally glanced up at him, eyes narrowed slightly. "For what? You owe me."

He smiled sheepishly, ducking his head. "Fair point."

Across the kitchen, Yelena elbowed Bob discreetly, both watching your quiet exchange with curiosity. "Are they… arguing?" Bob whispered uncertainly, brows furrowing.

Alexei snorted, shaking his head confidently. "No, Bob, this is called flirting. Barnes is flirting badly."

John glanced over from the couch, smirking faintly. "Bucky’s gonna strike out again."

Ava rolled her eyes lightly, voice amused. "Poor guy never learns."

Back at the counter, Bucky leaned in closer, lips nearly brushing your ear. "You know I spoil you, doll."

You hummed softly, voice deadpan. "Burger or nothing."

He huffed a laugh, stepping back slightly, smiling affectionately. "Fine. Burger it is."

"Good." You bit your apple again, returning your attention fully to your book. "Glad that's settled."

He lingered for another moment, watching you quietly with a faint, private smile before finally turning away, walking casually toward the elevator.

The second the doors slid shut behind him, Yelena smirked openly at you from across the kitchen. "Y/N, did Barnes finally work up the courage to ask you out?"

You glanced at her briefly, expression unreadable. "No."

Alexei groaned loudly, slapping his palm dramatically against his forehead. "Pathetic!"

Bob looked genuinely confused, tilting his head slightly. "But they talk all the time."

Yelena shook her head, sighing deeply. "It's complicated, Bob. Barnes pines. Y/N tolerates."

You ignored their chatter, turning quietly away to head down the hall toward your rarely-used room, your expression carefully neutral.

"You're all wrong," John drawled loudly from the couch. "She's just plotting how to murder him."

Ava smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on the TV. "Honestly, who could blame her?"

Yelena sighed dramatically again, leaning her hip against the counter. "Tragic."

You didn't bother responding, closing your bedroom door quietly behind you, a faint, hidden smile touching your lips as you reached for your phone to text Bucky a single word: "Burger?"

His response was almost immediate, playful and warm: "Anything for you, sweetheart."

---

A few hours later, you stepped out of the elevator and into the common area, quietly slipping past the team, who were sprawled out comfortably, watching some mindless action movie.

Yelena glanced up, eyebrows rising curiously. "Whoa. Where you going dressed like that?"

"Out," you replied evenly, adjusting the sleeve of your jacket slightly.

"Out?" John echoed suspiciously, eyes narrowing slightly. "Since when do you go out?"

You shrugged calmly, heading toward the door without looking back. "Since now."

Alexei squinted suspiciously, nudging Bob hard. "You see, Bob? Very mysterious. This one has secret life, I tell you."

Bob blinked slowly, clearly puzzled. "Really?"

Ava rolled her eyes fondly. "Probably just going to scare people for fun."

You didn't respond, stepping smoothly through the doors and disappearing down the hall.

---

Five minutes later, Bucky emerged casually from his room, wearing a dark jacket and looking unusually put together. He adjusted his collar, glancing casually around the room as he headed for the exit.

John's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And where exactly are you headed, Barnes?"

"Got some errands to run," Bucky said easily, not breaking his stride.

"Errands?" Yelena repeated skeptically. "At night?"

He shrugged lightly, shooting her a casual smirk. "I like running errands."

Alexei shook his head, sighing loudly. "Two secret lives under one roof. This team falling apart."

Bob glanced uncertainly between the group. "But—"

"Don't hurt yourself thinking, Bob," Ava interrupted dryly.

Bob sighed softly. "Okay."

"Don't wait up," Bucky called over his shoulder, stepping quickly into the elevator and hitting the button for the ground floor, ignoring the curious stares that followed him.

---

Outside, you stood leaning casually against the side of the building, arms crossed loosely as you waited. The busy Manhattan streets hummed with distant traffic, lights casting a soft glow against the pavement.

When the doors finally opened, Bucky stepped out, immediately breaking into a warm smile as he caught sight of you. "Hey, sweetheart," he murmured softly, walking toward you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Took you long enough."

He chuckled quietly, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss against your cheek. "Sorry. Had to shake the interrogation."

You rolled your eyes, stepping smoothly into pace beside him as you both began walking. "They suspicious?"

"Always," he sighed dramatically, sliding an arm comfortably around your waist. "Luckily, they're clueless."

You hummed softly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

Bucky nudged you gently, voice teasing. "You look good."

You glanced at him sideways, eyebrow arching faintly. "Better appreciate it. I don't dress up for just anyone."

He laughed quietly, tugging you a bit closer to him as you walked. "Believe me, doll, I'm honored."

"Gross," you muttered lightly, hiding your smile against his shoulder as he laughed again, the two of you disappearing together into the lively Manhattan evening.

---

The two of you settled comfortably into the subway seats, the train gently rumbling beneath you as it moved toward Brooklyn. Bucky sat close, thigh pressed against yours, arm casually draped over the back of your seat.

"You know," he murmured playfully, eyes fixed on the dark windows flashing by, "we could've taken a car."

You scoffed lightly, leaning back. "And miss watching you navigate public transportation? Never."

He laughed softly, nudging your shoulder with his. "I'm not that bad."

"You still stare suspiciously at the turnstiles."

"They beep at me," he muttered defensively. "Makes me nervous."

You hummed dryly. "Super soldier, war hero—intimidated by a turnstile."

He sighed dramatically, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "You’re mean, sweetheart."

"You married me," you pointed out calmly.

"Must've been temporarily insane," he teased, lips brushing your temple softly. "Lucky for me, the condition’s permanent."

You rolled your eyes faintly, though a hidden smile curled your lips. "You realize you're flirting with your own wife, right?"

"Constantly," he admitted shamelessly. "You complaining?"

"No," you murmured softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. "But don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he chuckled softly, kissing the crown of your head.

The train finally slowed, pulling into your stop. You stood easily, Bucky’s hand sliding naturally into yours as you navigated the crowds, stepping onto the platform and heading up toward the Brooklyn streets.

---

Red Hook Tavern was warm, cozy, bustling comfortably with chatter. A low, mellow soundtrack filled the space, the scent of burgers and fries thick in the air. Bucky guided you gently through the small crowd, settling into a quiet booth toward the back.

You leaned back, breathing in contentedly. "See? Better than pasta."

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling faintly. "You win. Happy now?"

"Very," you replied dryly, eyes glinting with faint amusement.

He watched you thoughtfully for a moment, his expression softening. "You're cute when you're smug."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Careful, Barnes."

"What?" He smiled innocently, leaning across the table. "Just appreciating my date."

"Again," you muttered fondly, "you're married."

He shrugged casually, glancing down at the menu. "Just means I have exceptional taste."

You hid your smile behind your menu, shaking your head lightly. "Ridiculous."

"You love it."

"Unfortunately," you conceded, setting your menu aside as the waitress approached.

---

An hour later, the two of you wandered quietly through Brooklyn’s quieter streets, fingers intertwined, the glow of streetlights casting soft shadows on the pavement. "Happy?" Bucky asked softly, glancing down at you with a gentle smile.

"Surprisingly," you replied evenly, leaning slightly against his side as you walked.

He nudged you playfully. "I'm sensing a compliment."

"Don't get used to it."

He chuckled quietly, voice warm. "Wouldn't dream of it."

You walked in comfortable silence for a few more blocks, the soft hum of distant traffic and nightlife filling the spaces between you.

"You ever gonna let them know?" Bucky finally asked, tone carefully casual. "The team?"

You sighed quietly, eyes flicking up toward him briefly. "Eventually. Just… not yet."

He squeezed your hand lightly, understanding. "Whatever you want, doll."

"Thank you," you murmured softly, leaning your head against his arm as you continued walking.

Bucky smiled warmly down at you, his voice quiet and teasing. "Don't worry. They’re all still convinced you hate me."

You snorted softly. "Good."

"Harsh," he murmured fondly.

"True," you countered dryly.

He laughed softly again, gently guiding you toward the subway entrance, heading back toward the Watchtower.

---

You stepped back into the Watchtower quietly, slipping from Bucky’s side as the elevator doors opened. He lingered behind a minute, watching as you vanished silently into his room, maintaining the illusion carefully.

The common room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the city through the large windows and the soft overhead lights from the kitchen. It seemed deserted until Yelena suddenly appeared, leaning casually against the fridge with a glass of water in hand.

"Late errands, Barnes?" she asked pointedly, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Something like that," Bucky replied easily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the nearest chair.

She hummed, eyes glinting mischievously. "Interesting. Because Y/N just got back too. Coincidence?"

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms comfortably. "It’s Manhattan, Lena. Not exactly a small town."

"Right," she drawled sarcastically. "So just an innocent coincidence."

He tilted his head slightly, smirking faintly. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don’t," she said mildly, taking a sip of her water. "But Alexei’s invested. He thinks you’re finally making progress."

"Glad he's entertained," Bucky muttered dryly, pushing away from the counter and heading toward his room. "Night, Lena."

"Goodnight, Barnes," she called after him, amusement still evident in her voice. "Sleep well."

---

Bucky stepped quietly into his room, shutting the door behind him softly. The bathroom door was closed, the lights shining from underneath the door. He sighed comfortably, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. Moving toward his dresser, he opened a drawer, sifting lazily through shirts and sweatpants.

The bathroom door clicked softly open behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder absently, then froze. His eyes widened, then narrowed appreciatively, gaze sweeping slowly from head to toe. You leaned casually against the doorframe, completely at ease in a two-piece lingerie set—deep emerald green, his favorite color—with a short black silk robe hanging loosely off your shoulders.

Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily speechless. "Jesus," he muttered faintly under his breath.

You arched a single eyebrow, expression carefully neutral. "See something you like, Barnes?"

"God, yes," he admitted shamelessly, turning fully to face you, eyes lingering appreciatively. "Special occasion?"

You shrugged casually, pushing off from the doorframe and walking slowly toward him. "You finally came through on date night. I figured you deserved a reward."

He chuckled softly, his voice low as his eyes tracked every subtle movement. "Remind me to always give you exactly what you want."

You hummed quietly, stopping mere inches from him, tilting your head slightly upward. "Smart man."

He reached out carefully, fingers grazing softly along the smooth silk fabric of your robe. His gaze flicked warmly to yours, playful and heated. "How long have you been hiding this?"

You met his stare evenly, unbothered. "Long enough."

He smiled faintly, tugging you gently closer by the ties of your robe. "Tease."

"Maybe," you conceded quietly, not resisting as he slowly pulled you closer, lips hovering just above yours. "But you're into it."

"Very," he murmured softly, finally capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His hand slipped beneath your robe, gently sliding along your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You sighed softly, pressing closer, fingers tangling lazily into his hair. "Told you I’d make it up to you."

He hummed appreciatively against your lips. "You're definitely forgiven."

"Good," you replied dryly, guiding him backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he sank easily onto it, hands settling firmly on your hips. You stood comfortably between his knees, looking down at him calmly, your fingers drifting slowly along his jawline.

"You’re staring," he teased softly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You love it," you murmured bluntly.

He chuckled warmly, tilting his head up to kiss your fingertips softly. "Unfortunately."

"Thought so," you replied evenly, finally sliding onto his lap, knees settling easily on either side of him.

His eyes fluttered briefly shut, breath hitching as your weight settled comfortably over him. "You're killing me."

"You’ll live," you said flatly, fingers slowly trailing down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt. "Now take this off."

He obeyed quickly, tugging his shirt easily over his head, tossing it aside without a glance. His hands returned immediately to your waist, sliding slowly upward, fingertips grazing gently along the lace covering your ribs.

"Beautiful," he murmured softly, eyes warm as he leaned forward, lips brushing gently against your collarbone.

You tilted your head slightly back, eyes closing softly. "I know."

Bucky laughed quietly against your skin, warm breath ghosting along your neck. "And humble."

"Shut up, Barnes," you muttered quietly, pulling his face back up to yours, capturing his lips firmly.

He smiled into the kiss, deepening it slowly, hands tightening gently on your hips, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you. Your breath hitched, body flush to his, silk brushing skin with every shift. You tugged his bottom lip with your teeth before pulling back just enough to murmur:

“Move up.”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard, then smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

He shifted up the bed without argument, head brushing the headboard, arms propped behind him. You stayed on his lap the entire time, thighs bracketing his, your robe sliding further open with every slight movement, the soft lace of your bra brushing against his bare chest.

You rolled your hips forward, slow, just enough friction to make his hands fly to your waist again. His breath stuttered.

“Fuck, doll…”

“You’re still overdressed,” you muttered, fingers already working his belt loose, eyes fixed on the buckle like it offended you.

He chuckled low. “Can’t say no when you look at me like that.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you replied flatly, shoving his pants and briefs down far enough to free him, eyes flicking up to catch the way his jaw tensed.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, gaze locked on the way you curled your fingers around him, stroking just enough to make him hiss.

You didn’t waste time. Just shifted your weight, pushed your underwear to the side, lined him up, and sank down in one slow, steady motion. His head thudded softly against the wall behind him.

“Goddamn—” he hissed between his teeth, hands gripping your hips hard. “You feel—fuck, doll—perfect.”

Your brows knit briefly, jaw clenching as you adjusted to the stretch, but you didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. You lowered until he was fully inside, buried to the hilt, and only then did you pause—just to make sure he felt every inch of you around him.

He reached up, brushing your cheek with one hand, voice low. “You okay?”

You met his gaze, flat and unreadable, but your voice was rough when you replied. “Yeah. Shut up.”

Bucky just laughed, breathless. “Knew you loved me.”

You started to move—slow, controlled rolls of your hips that had him swearing under his breath, fingers twitching against your waist like he was trying not to force your pace. He didn’t have to. You had a rhythm, deliberate and maddening.

“You're tryin’ to kill me,” he groaned, head tilted back.

You leaned forward slightly, hands braced on his chest, spine arching as you rocked against him again. “If I wanted you dead, Barnes, you'd already be a corpse.”

“Shit, that’s hot,” he muttered, grip tightening again.

You smirked faintly, then leaned in, lips brushing his. “Told you I don’t dress up for just anyone.”

“And I told you,” he growled, sitting up to meet you halfway, “I’m honored.”

You reached between you and yanked on his dog tags, jerking him into a hard kiss. He groaned into it, mouth slanted against yours as his hands slid down, one settling firmly on your ass, the other at the small of your back, guiding your rhythm now, hips rising to meet yours on every downstroke.

Your breath hitched when he hit that spot—again. Again. Your fingers twisted tighter in the chain around his neck.

“Fuuuck,” he muttered, biting your bottom lip. “Keep clenching like that and this is gonna be over real fast, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you panted against his mouth, forehead pressed to his. “You’ll last.”

He grinned, voice wrecked. “Bossy. Love that.”

You rocked harder, pace picking up now, sweat starting to bead at your temples. Your robe slid entirely off your shoulders, forgotten.

Bucky looked up at you like you hung the moon. Like the way your brow furrowed in pleasure was something sacred. He reached up, thumb brushing along your jaw, voice barely audible over the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Look at you,” he murmured, utterly gone. “My fuckin’ wife.”

You kissed him again, rougher this time, teeth clacking for a second, neither of you caring. You moaned low in your throat, the sound dragging from your chest when he shifted just slightly and—

“Ohhh—fuck,” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as you chased it, that tight pull in your stomach threatening to snap. “Right there.”

Bucky grunted, hips snapping up to meet yours harder. “Come on, doll. Let go for me. You’ve been so fuckin’ good.”

You curled your fingers into his shoulder blades and dropped your head to his neck, teeth scraping skin as your entire body shuddered.

He felt it—your pulse pounding where your mouth met his throat, the way you clenched down so tight around him he nearly lost it on the spot.

“That’s it,” he growled, biting back a moan. “That’s my girl.”

You rode it out with a broken gasp, voice cracking on a low, “Shit—fuck—Bucky—”

He thrust up hard twice more and then stilled, buried deep, arms crushing you to his chest as he came with a sharp exhale against your ear, voice rough as gravel.

“Fuck, doll, fuck—you drive me fuckin’ insane—”

You both breathed heavy, bodies slick and tangled, still flush together. You stayed straddled over him, his arms still locked tight around your waist.

Eventually, he muttered against your throat, voice raspy, “am I forgiven?”

You huffed softly, fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest. "Provisionally."

"Provisionally?" he echoed, pulling back slightly to give you a playful, offended look. "Sweetheart, after that?"

"Especially after that," you drawled dryly, leaning forward again to kiss him softly. "You delayed date night."

"I got you your burger," he argued lightly, kissing your jaw. "And fries."

"You delayed," you repeated evenly, shifting slightly, making him groan quietly.

He exhaled slowly, leaning his forehead gently against yours. "Fine. How do I make it up to you?"

"Breakfast in bed."

He chuckled softly, tightening his arms gently around your waist. "Done. Anything else?"

"Coffee. Good coffee."

"You drive a hard bargain," he murmured, lips brushing softly against your temple.

You pulled back, leveling him with a serious look. "And you're still talking."

Bucky laughed quietly, eyes bright with affection. "Harsh."

You hummed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "True."

He gently stroked your back, the silence settling comfortably around you both for a moment before he spoke again, voice soft. "You planning on staying tonight?"

You tilted your head slightly, arching a brow. "I always stay."

He smiled warmly, pressing a kiss lightly to your forehead. "Just checking."

You rolled your eyes faintly, voice low. "Barnes, you're needy."

"Only with you," he teased gently, fingers tracing softly along your spine. "Don’t tell anyone."

"Trust me," you muttered dryly, closing your eyes comfortably, "not an issue."

He chuckled quietly again, shifting slightly until you both lay comfortably tangled together, blankets pulled loosely around you. You sighed softly, feeling your body finally relax fully against his.

"Wake me up early and you're dead," you warned softly.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he murmured, lips pressing gently to the crown of your head. "Sleep well."

You hummed softly, already half asleep. "You too."

He tightened his hold slightly, breathing slowly evening out as the two of you drifted comfortably into sleep.

---

You stepped quietly into the training room, finding the team already deep into sparring practice. Alexei and John were loudly wrestling on one side, Ava was rhythmically hammering into a punching bag, and Yelena stood by Bob, calmly instructing him through basic defensive stances.

You slipped past them, silently observing from your usual place against the wall.

“Decided to show after all?” Ava asked dryly, pausing briefly to glance at you.

You gave a faint nod, not responding verbally. She shrugged slightly, returning to her bag.

Moments later, Bucky stepped in, quietly catching your eye across the room. He offered you a small, playful smirk. You raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment.

John immediately spotted him, stepping away from Alexei with a wide grin. "Hey Barnes, you gonna spar today or you too busy humming?"

Bucky sighed heavily, stepping onto the mats casually. "You really don't let anything go, do you?"

Alexei chuckled, slapping Bucky’s shoulder enthusiastically. "Of course not! Team bonding means constant harassment. Builds character."

"Thanks, Alexei," Bucky muttered sarcastically. He looked around the room, glancing pointedly at John. "Fine. Let's go."

You settled more comfortably against the wall, watching calmly as Bucky circled John easily. He moved fluidly, clearly holding back slightly, amused as John struggled to land any hits.

Across the room, Yelena stepped quietly to your side, voice low. "Barnes is unusually smug today."

You tilted your head slightly, eyes not leaving the match. "He looks the same to me."

Yelena smirked, eyes narrowing slightly. "He’s glancing over here. A lot."

You shrugged lightly. "Maybe he's worried you’ll interrogate him again."

She huffed quietly, eyes fixed suspiciously on your neutral expression. "Or maybe he's trying to impress someone."

You glanced at her calmly, voice flat. "You think Barnes needs to impress anyone?"

She paused, considering, then sighed irritably. "You’re annoyingly good at not answering."

"Thanks," you replied dryly, returning your attention to the mats as John landed heavily on his back, groaning.

Bucky offered him a hand up, smirking faintly. "You good?"

John rolled his eyes, wincing as he stood. "Peachy."

Alexei laughed loudly, clapping dramatically. "Barnes is champion again! Who wants next?"

Bucky glanced briefly your way, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge. You calmly ignored him, sipping water from a nearby bottle.

"Y/N!" Alexei suddenly called cheerfully. "Come, come! You fight Barnes, yes?"

You sighed softly, setting your bottle aside. "Fine."

Bucky smiled slightly, rolling his shoulders. "Try not to hurt me too bad, doll."

Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You two seem friendly all of a sudden."

Bucky shrugged easily, eyes fixed calmly on you. "She tolerates me."

You stepped onto the mats smoothly, circling slowly. "Barely."

"Careful," he teased gently, lunging forward suddenly. You sidestepped effortlessly, eyes coolly amused as you avoided him again.

"You’re slow today," you murmured dryly, watching his careful movements.

He chuckled softly, voice low. "Maybe I’m distracted."

You scoffed quietly, easily dodging his grasp again. "Focus."

He feigned a pout, attempting to catch your wrist. "Maybe you’re my focus."

Across the room, John glanced skeptically at Yelena. "Are they flirting again?"

Yelena sighed deeply. "Probably. Barnes never learns."

You neatly twisted, ducking beneath Bucky’s arm, and landed a precise hit to his ribs. He laughed softly, barely flinching as he circled you again. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Maybe," you replied evenly, stepping closer, eyes narrowed playfully. "But you clearly like it."

"Very," he admitted shamelessly, voice low enough only you could hear. "But maybe take it easy—I bruise easily."

"Liar," you muttered softly, moving swiftly again, barely missing him as he slipped neatly out of reach.

He grinned faintly, teasing openly now. "Maybe I just like when you play rough."

"Gross," John muttered dryly from the sidelines.

Alexei nodded gravely. "Agreed."

You finally caught Bucky’s wrist smoothly, twisting lightly until he laughed, yielding dramatically. "Fine, fine, you win."

You released him, stepping calmly back, expression neutral. "Again."

He smiled faintly, shaking his head affectionately. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

Yelena rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. "You two are exhausting."

Bob tilted his head uncertainly. "Why?"

She shook her head slowly. "Trust me, Bob. Don't worry about it."

You ignored them all, eyes fixed calmly on Bucky as you circled again, the quiet amusement between you both carefully hidden beneath calm, unreadable expressions.

---

A week later, you were quietly pouring yourself coffee when Bob spoke up from the table, his voice uncertain.

"Hey, um... has anyone ever noticed Y/N's room is always spotless?"

John glanced up skeptically. "Why are you even looking at Y/N's room?"

Bob flushed slightly. "I'm not—I just noticed the door's always closed, and... the lights are never on."

Alexei immediately perked up, delighted. "Aha! Suspicious! Perhaps she is vampire. No sleep, no mess."

Yelena rolled her eyes, but her curiosity was clearly piqued. "Bob has a point, though. Have any of you ever actually seen her go into her room?"

The team fell silent, all of them exchanging curious glances. Ava finally shrugged. "Maybe she just likes things clean."

Bob shook his head. "No, like—really clean. Hotel-room clean."

Alexei slammed his hand on the table dramatically, making Bob jump. "Exactly! Vampire. Or spy. Or spy vampire."

Bucky, leaning casually against the counter, swallowed his coffee a little too quickly, coughing quietly.

"You alright, Barnes?" John asked suspiciously.

Bucky nodded, voice rough. "Fine."

Yelena stood suddenly, chair scraping softly against the floor. "I'm checking it out."

"You can't just invade someone's room, Lena," Ava said dryly.

"Watch me," Yelena said easily, already heading down the hall.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly. He glanced quickly toward you, but you merely sipped your coffee calmly, expression utterly neutral.

John watched Yelena go, snorting softly. "She's definitely gonna get herself killed."

Alexei chuckled deeply, clearly entertained. "If vampire Y/N doesn't get her first."

---

Five minutes later, Yelena returned looking oddly disappointed. She dropped back into her chair with a huff, crossing her arms irritably.

"Well?" Alexei demanded eagerly. "Did you find coffin?"

"No coffin," she muttered bitterly. "Just a very boring, very unused bed."

Bob blinked slowly. "Unused?"

"Perfectly made," Yelena confirmed, glaring pointedly at Bucky. "Not a wrinkle. It's like she never sleeps there."

Bucky shrugged lightly, avoiding her stare. "Maybe she just makes the bed."

"Or," John drawled thoughtfully, "she sleeps hanging upside down from the ceiling. Alexei's vampire theory holds up."

Bob furrowed his brow deeply. "Can people actually do that?"

"Bob," Ava sighed gently, "please don’t hurt yourself."

You calmly finished your coffee, setting your mug quietly in the sink. "This is a fascinating discussion."

Yelena turned her sharp gaze directly onto you. "Care to explain your oddly pristine bedroom?"

You raised a single brow calmly, leaning back against the counter. "Not really."

Alexei laughed heartily, slapping the table enthusiastically. "I told you! Vampire!"

Bucky coughed again, barely hiding his smile behind his coffee cup. "Right. Vampire."

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously at you, arms folded. "You realize I’ll figure it out eventually."

"Good luck," you murmured dryly, moving toward the hallway. "Have fun with your theories."

As you disappeared down the hall, Alexei beamed cheerfully, gesturing toward Bucky. "Barnes! You watch your back tonight. Our scary friend might come for your neck!"

Bucky snorted quietly, setting his mug down. "Pretty sure I can handle her."

"Good luck," Ava muttered, eyes amused. "If anyone's a vampire, it's her."

Bucky smiled faintly, following you down the hall calmly, ignoring the curious, skeptical gazes burning into his back.

---

It was past midnight when a sharp knock jolted Bucky awake. He sat up abruptly, eyes immediately darting to you beside him. You were still fast asleep, breathing steady, face relaxed into the pillow.

Another sharp knock came, followed by Yelena’s irritated voice. "Y/N. You awake?"

Bucky muttered a curse under his breath, gently sliding from beneath the covers, careful not to wake you. He pulled on a shirt quickly, quietly stepping into the hallway and closing the bedroom door behind him before Yelena knocked again.

"What the hell, Lena?" he whispered harshly.

Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Barnes. What are you doing here?"

He gestured vaguely down the hall, trying to look casual. "I was—getting water. What's your excuse?"

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "I needed Y/N."

"At midnight?" he hissed.

She shrugged unapologetically. "Couldn't sleep. Thought she might be up. Her lights are always off anyway."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing softly. "She’s not in there."

Yelena folded her arms, suspicion spiking immediately. "And how would you know?"

He paused, scrambling for a believable lie. "I saw her leave earlier. Said something about going for a run."

"A run," Yelena echoed flatly. "At midnight."

"Yeah," Bucky muttered, attempting to sound confident. "She does that sometimes."

Yelena stared at him, completely unconvinced. "Really."

"Really," Bucky said firmly, meeting her gaze evenly.

She eyed him carefully, suspicion heavy in her stare. "You’re acting weird, Barnes."

He forced a casual shrug. "You're knocking on people’s doors at midnight. Who's weird?"

Yelena narrowed her eyes further, voice dry. "I’m watching you."

"Great," he muttered sarcastically, stepping past her toward the kitchen. "Have fun with that."

She remained standing by your unused door, eyes tracking him as he moved down the hallway. Eventually, she shook her head, irritation clear, and turned back toward her own room. "Ridiculous," she mumbled softly. "Everyone in this place is losing their minds."

Once the hallway was finally quiet again, Bucky returned quickly to his room, slipping silently inside. He exhaled slowly, relieved, as he quietly shut the door behind him. He turned back toward the bed—and found you wide awake, watching him with a faint, amused expression.

"Enjoy your midnight chat?" you asked dryly.

He sighed heavily, climbing back into bed beside you. "Your friend is getting suspicious."

You rolled your eyes slightly, shifting closer to him again. "She’s your friend."

"Not tonight," he muttered, tugging you gently into his arms. "Tonight she’s a nuisance."

You hummed softly, settling comfortably against his chest. "You handled it?"

"For now," he admitted reluctantly. "Barely."

You smirked faintly, tilting your head up slightly to kiss his jaw. "Good."

Bucky tightened his hold around your waist, dropping a soft kiss onto your forehead. "Next time she knocks, you're answering."

"No," you murmured firmly, eyes already drifting closed again. "You're better at lying."

He chuckled softly, voice warm. "Fair enough."

You settled into silence again, listening to his heartbeat slowly ease back into a calm rhythm. After a moment, you murmured softly, "You're still awake."

He sighed, voice dry with mild irritation. "Yeah. Someone knocking at midnight does that."

You smiled faintly, turning your head gently into his shoulder. "You'll live."

"Maybe," he teased quietly, fingers trailing softly along your spine. "If your friend doesn't kill me first."

"Sleep, Barnes," you murmured flatly.

He chuckled softly, finally relaxing fully into the mattress, eyes slowly closing. "Yes, ma'am."

---

Two days later, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, quietly observing as Ava scrolled through her phone, Yelena perched eagerly next to her.

“No,” Ava muttered. “Not her. Too cheerful.”

John peered over her shoulder skeptically. “Cheerful’s good. Maybe it’ll rub off on him.”

“What are you idiots doing?” Bucky asked warily, pouring himself coffee and shooting a confused glance in their direction.

Ava looked up casually, voice deadpan. “Finding you a date.”

Bucky nearly choked on his coffee. “A what?”

Alexei nodded enthusiastically, grinning. “Yes! Barnes, you mope too much. Need romantic distraction.”

Bucky raised a skeptical brow. “I’m fine.”

“You’re absolutely not fine,” Yelena countered, voice dry. “You need help.”

You remained perfectly silent, casually sipping your own coffee, your expression blank as Bucky shot you a subtle, desperate glance.

“Ah!” Ava suddenly exclaimed triumphantly. “Got it. My friend’s a barista. Cute, funny, tolerates annoying customers. She’s perfect.”

“Perfect!” Alexei echoed loudly, slapping the table with excitement.

Bucky looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Really not necessary.”

Ava ignored him, already texting rapidly. “Too late. It’s done.”

“Fantastic,” Bucky muttered flatly, stealing another quick, pleading glance toward you. You met his gaze evenly, taking another calm sip of coffee. “You could at least pretend to help,” he murmured irritably, just loud enough for you to hear.

You raised a single eyebrow, voice flat. “Looks like you’ve got it covered.”

Ava looked up again, smiling smugly. “Tomorrow night, seven sharp.”

Bucky sighed heavily, clearly defeated. “Great.”

---

Later that evening, Bucky leaned against the bedroom doorway, watching you quietly as you calmly flipped through a book. His arms were crossed over his chest, an amused, questioning expression on his face.

“You jealous, sweetheart?” he finally teased softly.

You didn’t look up from your page, voice utterly flat. “Of watching you struggle to make small talk? No.”

He laughed softly, pushing away from the doorway to step toward you, gently tugging the book from your hands. “So you don’t care if I go?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, voice deceptively casual. “You’re allowed to have friends.”

He smirked faintly, leaning closer until his lips brushed your jaw. “It’s a date, doll. Not a friend.”

You turned slightly, raising a challenging eyebrow. “You’re awfully smug for someone sleeping alone tonight.”

He chuckled softly, gently gripping your chin, tilting your face to his. “You’re awfully possessive for someone who ‘doesn’t care.’”

You sighed deeply, voice low and even. “Barnes.”

“Yes, sweetheart?” he murmured teasingly, lips brushing yours softly.

“Go on your stupid date,” you muttered flatly, pulling back slightly. “Smile at her once and I’ll murder you.”

He laughed warmly, clearly delighted. “Understood.”

You took your book back from his hand calmly, settling against the pillows again. “Glad we’re clear.”

Bucky shook his head fondly, climbing onto the bed beside you, settling comfortably close. “You know, if you don’t want me to go, you could just say so.”

You turned the page calmly, eyes on the text again. “Go.”

“Right,” he teased softly, lips brushing your shoulder. “But no smiling.”

“No smiling,” you confirmed flatly, finally glancing toward him, a faint, hidden smile tugging at your lips. “At least not nicely.”

He chuckled again, relaxing fully beside you. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re needy,” you murmured calmly, gently resting your head against his shoulder.

“Only with you,” he reminded you softly, pressing a tender kiss against your temple.

“Good,” you muttered dryly. “Keep it that way.”

---

You walked into the bedroom as Bucky left the bathroom, freshly showered getting ready for his date. “I changed my mind,” you said firmly, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

Bucky turned to face you, a slow, cocky smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh?”

“Don’t get smug, Barnes.”

He held his hands up innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” you shot back, eyes narrowed slightly.

He stepped closer, clearly enjoying this. “So you don’t want me to go now?”

“No,” you admitted bluntly, jaw tight.

“Is this you being jealous again?” he teased lightly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you.

“No,” you repeated flatly. “This is me deciding I don’t feel like hiding your body.”

He laughed quietly, eyes bright. “Sweetheart, it’s just dinner.”

“With another woman.”

“A dinner you approved,” he reminded you playfully.

“I changed my mind,” you said again, voice colder this time. “Cancel it.”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll stab you,” you said, deadpan. “And that’ll solve the problem anyway.”

He laughed softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your temple. “God, you’re hot when you’re threatening my life.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing gently against his chest. “Shut up, Barnes. Cancel the date.”

He chuckled again, pulling his phone from his pocket without hesitation, typing quickly. “Fine, fine. It’s canceled.”

“Good.”

“Happy now?” he teased softly.

“Ecstatic,” you muttered sarcastically, turning away and heading toward the bathroom. You paused at the doorway, glancing back briefly. “And wipe that smug look off your face, Barnes.”

Bucky grinned broadly, eyes gleaming. “Yes, ma’am.”

---

Ten minutes later, Bucky wandered casually into the common room, dropping onto the couch beside John. Yelena glanced up from her phone immediately, brows raised. “Shouldn’t you be gone already?” she asked suspiciously.

Bucky shrugged casually, grabbing the remote. “Canceled.”

John snorted. “Got stood up already?”

“Something like that,” Bucky replied mildly.

Alexei shook his head dramatically. “Barnes, terrible luck with romance. Maybe you should become monk.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Bucky muttered dryly. “I’ll think about it.”

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. “She canceled or you?”

“It was mutual,” Bucky lied smoothly, flipping through the channels casually.

Across the room, Bob glanced uncertainly toward your closed bedroom door. “Where’s Y/N?”

Bucky didn’t look up. “No idea.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Bucky, clearly unconvinced. “Very convenient timing.”

He met her gaze evenly, unbothered. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Alexei laughed heartily. “Yes, very lucky! Lucky you get rejected!”

“Right,” Bucky sighed flatly. “Thanks.”

John elbowed him lightly. “Want me to text Ava’s friend for you? Try again?”

“Absolutely not,” Bucky replied firmly. “I’m good.”

Yelena frowned thoughtfully, still skeptical. “I’m watching you, Barnes.”

Bucky smiled faintly, unfazed. “You’ve mentioned.”

“You’re suspicious,” she muttered quietly, eyes narrowed. “You’re both suspicious.”

“You’re paranoid,” Bucky countered dryly, turning back to the TV.

Ava sighed heavily, glancing up briefly. “Both can be true.”

Alexei nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely both!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring their pointed stares. “Whatever you say.”

Across the room, Bob glanced around again uncertainly. “But really, has anyone seen Y/N?”

“She’s probably plotting someone’s murder,” John replied calmly.

Alexei chuckled heartily, nodding. “Likely.”

Bucky fought a faint smile, eyes staying carefully fixed on the screen. “Sounds about right.”

---

The common area was unusually quiet as the team lounged about lazily. Alexei was mindlessly flipping channels, Ava texting on her phone, and Yelena and John bickering quietly over breakfast.

Bob glanced up first, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Hey, uh... is Bucky wearing green?"

Yelena's head whipped around immediately, eyes widening dramatically as Bucky entered the kitchen, completely unbothered, in a dark green Henley and grey sweats.

"Whoa," John muttered, mid-bite, clearly shocked. "Did someone die?"

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Barnes, did you hit your head?"

Bucky sighed deeply, pouring coffee calmly. "What now?"

"Your clothes," Alexei said gravely, as though discussing a great tragedy. "They have color."

Bucky looked down casually, shrugging. "It's just green."

"Exactly," Yelena agreed, nodding sharply. "That's the point. You don't wear green."

"I can wear green," Bucky replied dryly. "There's no rule against green."

John shook his head, feigning seriousness. "Yeah, but you're usually like... Batman."

"Batman?" Bucky echoed flatly, brows rising.

"All black, all brooding," John clarified. "It's your vibe."

Alexei clapped loudly, enthusiastically agreeing. "Yes! Like angry shadow! Very broody!"

Bucky rolled his eyes, clearly amused, but said nothing.

"Maybe he's finally cracking," Ava teased lightly, still focused on her phone.

"Maybe," Yelena muttered suspiciously, eyes narrowed as she watched him carefully. "Or someone's influencing him."

"Conspiracy theory, Lena?" Bucky asked mildly, sipping his coffee.

"Yes," she said immediately, completely serious. "I suspect foul play."

Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "But he looks good."

Bucky pointed at him appreciatively. "Thank you, Bob."

Bob smiled shyly, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome."

The conversation continued, dissolving into pointless bickering. You chose that exact moment to enter quietly, moving casually toward the coffee machine. As you passed behind Bucky, you swiftly and casually slapped his ass, hiding your smirk as he jolted slightly.

His eyes immediately shot to yours, wide and startled.

"Nice color, Barnes," you murmured evenly, calmly grabbing a coffee mug. You moved away without another glance, expression utterly neutral, even as his cheeks reddened faintly. Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, quickly turning back to his coffee.

"Barnes?" Yelena asked sharply, catching the awkward shift. "You good?"

"Fine," he muttered quickly, eyes fixed pointedly on his mug.

John narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Something's up."

"Nothing's up," Bucky replied a little too quickly, clearing his throat again.

Alexei chuckled deeply, nodding knowingly. "Very suspicious."

Ava sighed deeply. "Oh, please don't start another conspiracy theory."

You smirked faintly behind your mug, eyes briefly meeting Bucky's again from across the room. He shot you a small, playful glare, barely suppressing his smile.

Yelena leaned forward, watching him carefully. "Barnes, you're acting weird again."

Bucky huffed quietly, sipping his coffee and trying to look unbothered. "It's literally just a shirt, Lena."

You moved quietly toward the exit, tossing a casual comment over your shoulder. "I think it's his color." The entire room fell silent as you disappeared down the hall, all eyes immediately flicking back to Bucky.

John raised an eyebrow slowly. "Did she just give you a compliment?"

Bucky shrugged lightly, fighting a smirk as he avoided everyone's suspicious gaze. "Guess so."

"She definitely did," Ava confirmed flatly, clearly amused.

Alexei chuckled knowingly, slapping the table enthusiastically. "Ah-ha! Progress!"

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously, leaning back in her chair thoughtfully. "I still don't trust it."

"You trust nothing," John pointed out dryly.

"True," she conceded evenly. "But especially not Barnes and Y/N."

Bucky shook his head, sighing dramatically as he headed for the elevator. "You're all ridiculous."

Bob looked around uncertainly. "But he does look good in green."

"Yes, Bob," Yelena sighed heavily. "That's the problem."

---

You walked quietly into the training room, finding the team spread out, already deep into their routines. John was spotting Bob at the bench press, Ava stretched by the punching bags, and Alexei lounged against the wall, offering unhelpful commentary. You silently moved toward the mats, your necklace catching briefly in the overhead lights.

Yelena immediately paused mid-stretch, staring openly. "You're wearing a necklace."

"So?" you replied evenly, stretching casually.

"So," Yelena echoed slowly, suspiciously. "You don't usually wear accessories."

You raised an eyebrow calmly. "You're paying attention to my jewelry habits now?"

"Someone has to," she muttered flatly. "Something's definitely up."

Across the room, Bucky entered casually, eyes briefly locking onto the necklace, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He hid it quickly, grabbing a water bottle instead.

Alexei pointed enthusiastically toward you. "Barnes! Our scary friend wears mystery necklace."

Bucky feigned mild disinterest. "Good for her."

"You don't care?" Yelena asked skeptically, eyeing him suspiciously. "You’re usually pretty invested.”

"That’s you," he reminded her dryly, calmly taking a sip of water. "I'm fine with it."

"Hmm," she murmured, clearly unconvinced.

You ignored them all, beginning your warm-up calmly, your necklace gleaming softly beneath the lights.

Bob watched curiously, his voice quiet. "Maybe it's important to her."

Alexei chuckled loudly. "Important like secret admirer!"

You exhaled slowly, voice flat. "Maybe it is."

The room fell immediately quiet. Yelena's eyes narrowed sharply, suspicion spiking. "Did you just admit you have a secret admirer?"

You didn't reply, calmly continuing your stretches. Bucky turned his back quickly, clearly trying to hide his faint smirk behind his water bottle.

John shook his head slowly. "There's no way."

Alexei clapped loudly. "There is way! Romance in the tower, very exciting!"

Ava sighed deeply, clearly bored. "Not everything's a conspiracy."

"This definitely is," Yelena muttered darkly, still glaring pointedly at you.

"Leave her alone," Bucky said lightly, stepping calmly onto the mats. "If she wants to keep secrets, let her."

Yelena raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're suspiciously supportive."

"I'm supportive of privacy," Bucky replied evenly. "Especially when it means fewer interrogations from you."

You stepped forward, tilting your head slightly, eyes coolly amused. "Barnes. Are we talking or training?"

He smirked faintly, eyes glinting with amusement as he dropped into a defensive stance. "Training."

"Good," you murmured flatly, moving fluidly toward him. "Less talking."

"She really scares me," John muttered from the side, watching warily.

Alexei laughed heartily, delighted. "Yes, very terrifying! Especially with jewelry."

You ignored them, focused solely on Bucky as you sparred, both of you carefully hiding your faint smiles each time you moved closer, your necklace gleaming softly between you.

“I swear to God, Barnes. If you grope me, I’ll kill you.”

Bucky chuckled quietly, moving around you smoothly on the mats. “You’re wearing my favorite. Can’t blame a guy for being distracted.”

“You can,” you countered flatly, dodging easily as he reached for your wrist again. “Focus.”

His gaze dropped briefly to your necklace, lips quirking slightly. “And my necklace? You’re spoiling me.”

You sighed softly, carefully shifting your weight to block his next move. “You’re hopeless.”

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice teasingly warm. His eyes glinted playfully. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Barnes,” you muttered quietly, tone sharp. “We’re training.”

He smirked faintly, leaning in closer as he passed you again. “You weren’t complaining when you were hogging the sheets.”

Your eyes narrowed, voice dropping lower. “I’ll smother you with those sheets.”

“Promises, promises,” he teased lightly, moving smoothly behind you again. “Maybe later.”

Across the room, Yelena watched suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “Are they arguing again?”

“Probably,” Ava muttered absently, eyes still on her phone.

John shook his head slowly. “It looks kinda… intense.”

Alexei shrugged cheerfully. “They always intense. Like dramatic spy movie.”

Back on the mats, Bucky’s gaze flicked appreciatively again to your bralette, a faint, smug smile appearing. “Seriously, doll, it’s distracting.”

“Good,” you said flatly, quickly twisting your wrist from his grasp. “Means you’ll lose faster.”

He laughed softly, circling you again, eyes playful. “Harsh.”

“True.”

He lunged suddenly, grabbing your waist firmly, pulling you flush against him. You froze briefly, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Barnes,” you growled softly, warning clear. “What did I say?”

He smiled innocently, leaning closer. “I forgot.”

“I’ll remind you later,” you muttered darkly, elbowing him swiftly in the ribs and stepping neatly away.

He winced, laughing quietly, voice low. “Worth it.”

“Gross,” John muttered, shaking his head. “They’re definitely flirting.”

Ava rolled her eyes slightly. “And yet she hasn’t killed him.”

Yelena sighed deeply, irritated. “Yet.”

Bob looked uncertainly toward the mats. “But they fight all the time.”

Alexei chuckled heartily. “Exactly! This called sexual tension, Bob. Very intense.”

You finally stepped back, exhaling slowly, eyes calmly meeting Bucky’s amused gaze. “You’re lucky we have an audience.”

He smiled warmly, eyes softening just for a moment. “I know.”

“Good,” you murmured evenly, stepping smoothly off the mats. “Keep that in mind tonight when you’re begging for mercy.”

Bucky grinned widely, completely unfazed, following casually behind you. “Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

Yelena glared suspiciously as the two of you passed. “You two have fun?”

You shot her a bland look. “Define fun.”

“Did Barnes survive?”

“For now,” you said flatly, not breaking stride.

Bucky chuckled quietly, nudging you gently. “She’s secretly soft on me.”

“Delusional,” you corrected dryly.

“Right,” Yelena muttered skeptically as you both disappeared down the hall. “Definitely flirting.”

---

“Is that a skirt?” Yelena asked, as you walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

You raised the skirt to reveal the shorts connected underneath. "It's a skort."

Yelena raised her eyebrows, nodding thoughtfully. "Cute."

"Didn't ask," you replied flatly, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

Behind you, John snorted quietly. "Friendly as always."

"Careful," Ava murmured absently. "She might actually kill you this time."

You ignored them, leaning against the counter casually as Bucky stepped quietly into the kitchen, eyes quickly flicking to your skort. He paused briefly, lips curving into a small, smug smile. "Nice outfit," he teased lightly.

You tilted your head calmly, voice utterly neutral. "It was a gift."

Yelena's head whipped toward you suspiciously. "From who?"

You took a sip of water, expression unreadable. "A friend."

"Friend?" John echoed skeptically. "You don't have friends."

"True," Alexei agreed cheerfully. "Scary friend has no friends, only victims."

Bucky chuckled softly, stepping past you and casually leaning in to grab a coffee mug. "Maybe she made an exception."

You glanced sideways at him, voice low. "Don't push it, Barnes."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured softly, barely audible.

Bob furrowed his brow slightly. "Why does Bucky always tease Y/N?"

"Because he has a death wish," Ava replied absently.

"Or," Yelena mused suspiciously, eyes narrowed at you both, "he likes living dangerously."

"Definitely dangerous," Alexei nodded seriously. "Y/N will kill Barnes soon."

"Looking forward to it," you muttered dryly, pushing off from the counter and heading toward the hall. You barely managed two steps before you felt Bucky subtly slide his hand under the skirt, squeezing your ass firmly, hidden perfectly from the team's view.

You shot him a sharp, dangerous glare over your shoulder, voice cold and low. "Barnes."

He grinned smugly, completely unbothered. "Careful, sweetheart."

You huffed irritably, storming away without another word, hearing the team snicker quietly behind you.

"What was that?" Yelena immediately demanded suspiciously.

Bucky shrugged casually, pouring coffee calmly. "No idea."

"She looked pissed," John noted dryly.

"When doesn't she?" Ava muttered flatly.

Alexei laughed cheerfully, shaking his head. "Barnes, one day she'll kill you. Very messy."

Bucky smiled faintly, eyes glinting. "Probably."

Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe you should apologize?"

"I'm good," Bucky said lightly, sipping his coffee, smirk still firmly in place.

Yelena sighed dramatically, clearly irritated. "You two are exhausting."

---

Bucky stepped quietly into the bedroom a short while later, closing the door behind him softly. You immediately shot him a sharp look from your spot on the bed, book in hand.

"You're lucky I didn't stab you," you muttered flatly.

He chuckled softly, moving toward you calmly, eyes warm and amused. "Worth the risk."

"Barnes," you warned quietly, gaze narrowed.

He grinned playfully, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "You slapped my ass in front of everyone. Payback was fair."

You scoffed softly, reluctantly relaxing slightly as he settled comfortably beside you. "Barely."

He nudged your shoulder gently, voice teasingly soft. "Admit it. You liked it."

"Keep dreaming," you murmured dryly, turning the page calmly.

Bucky chuckled again, gently pulling your book down to catch your eyes. "Love you too, sweetheart."

"Gross," you muttered quietly, but your voice softened, and your lips twitched faintly.

He smiled warmly, leaning closer to brush his lips against your jawline. "Thanks for wearing the skort."

"You bought it," you reminded him evenly, though your voice lacked its usual edge.

"And it looks perfect," he murmured softly, lips tracing gently along your neck. "Especially on you."

"Bucky," you sighed, eyes falling shut briefly. "Stop."

"You sure?" he teased softly, breath warm against your skin.

You exhaled slowly, head tilting slightly to grant him better access. "No."

He smiled against your skin, fingers sliding gently beneath the hem of the skort again, voice teasing and affectionate. "Didn't think so."

---

The comms crackled softly in your ear as you moved silently through the tree line, keeping low, eyes trained on the compound just up ahead. You and Ava were positioned to sweep the south perimeter while the others flanked the north and secured the intel inside.

"East clear," Yelena’s voice came through. "No movement."

"North entrance is covered," John added. "Alexei’s being loud as usual."

"Strategic loud," Alexei corrected proudly.

“South perimeter’s clear,” Ava said, glancing briefly toward you. “Y/N, you good?”

You gave a silent nod, pressing your back against the stone wall as you signaled for her to hold position. Then the line crackled again—Bucky’s voice came through, strained but still steady. “Contact in the west corridor. I’m good—just grazed.”

There was a pause. Then: “repeat, Barnes is hit,” John confirmed. “Not bad. Just a graze on his side.”

You were already moving. You didn’t say anything—not to Ava, not to the comms. You just moved.

Through the trees, across the clearing, slipping like a shadow through the half-ruined side entrance. You moved fast, but quiet, eyes scanning rapidly for any sign of him.

Behind you, Ava’s voice came faintly through the earpiece. “...Y/N? Where the hell— Y/N, you were supposed to hold south!”

"She’s gone," Yelena muttered over comms. "Of course she’s gone."

Alexei chuckled into the line. "Perhaps vampire instincts. She senses blood."

You ignored them all.

The compound’s west wing was dim and empty, light filtering in through broken windows and high beams. You rounded a corner and spotted him almost immediately—leaning heavily against the wall, one hand pressed to his side, blood staining the fabric of his black combat shirt.

His head snapped up when he saw you. “What are you—?” You crossed the space in seconds, grabbing his wrist and yanking it away to inspect the wound. “It’s fine,” he started.

You pulled a cloth from your pocket, pressing it against the wound firmly, your movements efficient and practiced. “You didn’t call it in yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow, breath shallow. “Because it’s not a big deal.”

"Wrong," you said flatly, pulling out a small field med kit.

He chuckled quietly, grimacing slightly as you cleaned the wound. “You ditched your post for me, sweetheart?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

His eyes softened slightly, voice dropping. “You worried?” You didn’t answer, just wrapped the bandage tight and clean, your jaw tense. He tilted his head slightly, voice lower now, just for you. “You know you’re supposed to act normal in front of the others, not go rogue.”

“You got hit,” you muttered, standing and pulling him up carefully. “Don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

He smirked, even as he winced. “That’s my girl.”

"Shut up, Barnes," you muttered, hooking an arm under his. "You’re limping."

He leaned into you slightly, lips brushing your ear. “You know I like it when you go feral for me.”

“Keep talking and I’ll reopen the wound.”

He grinned, despite the pain. “Totally worth it.”

“Let’s go,” you muttered, guiding him back toward the rendezvous point. “Before someone sees.”

Bucky smirked. “Married life suits you.”

“Don’t push it, Barnes.”

He smiled wider. “Love you too.”

---

Back at the Watchtower, the common area was thick with tension. John paced irritably, gesturing wildly as the rest of the team lounged around the room, silently watching the spectacle unfold. "You can't just leave your position, Y/N," John snapped, frustration clear. "You compromised the whole operation!"

You stood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, your gaze coldly indifferent.

Ava sighed softly. "Walker, it wasn't that serious—"

"It was reckless," John interrupted sharply. "She ran off like some amateur because Barnes got a scratch!"

Alexei chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe scratch was deeper than we think."

Yelena's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Still weird for her to lose control like that."

You stayed quiet, expression unchanging.

"Seriously, Y/N," John pressed irritably. "I know you're protective of Barnes for some weird reason, but you can't put the rest of us in danger."

Bucky shifted slightly, opening his mouth to say something, but you shot him a brief, silent look—he shut it again immediately.

Bob blinked, genuinely confused. "Wait, what happened?"

"Y/N ran off," Ava clarified dryly. "Apparently, Barnes got grazed, and she just abandoned everything."

Bob's brow furrowed deeper. "Is that... bad?"

"Yes, Bob," John said flatly. "It's very bad."

Alexei grinned, nudging Bob cheerfully. "Perhaps vampire protective of favorite victim."

Bob's eyes widened uncertainly. "Barnes is a victim?"

Yelena sighed deeply. "Focus, Bob."

"Look," John snapped, turning back toward you again, clearly determined. "All I'm saying is—"

You finally moved—quickly, fluidly—crossing the space between you and Bucky before anyone could even register what was happening. You grabbed a fistful of Bucky’s shirt, yanking him roughly forward. His eyes widened briefly in surprise—then quickly darkened in amusement as your lips crashed firmly onto his.

The room fell utterly silent.

Bucky didn't hesitate, melting immediately into the kiss, his metal hand gently gripping your waist. He smiled faintly against your lips, clearly pleased.

When you finally pulled back, you released him casually, stepping back to your previous spot against the wall. Your expression was cool and completely neutral as your eyes calmly flicked over the stunned faces of the entire team.

"Shit," Alexei finally breathed, breaking the silence. "Did not see that coming."

John just stared, speechless.

Yelena blinked, then slowly nodded. "Okay. That explains... a lot."

Bob smiled faintly, clearly pleased. "That's nice."

Ava raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely impressed. "Well, that’s one way to shut everyone up."

You said nothing, arms crossing again as you leaned back against the wall, expression perfectly indifferent.

Bucky cleared his throat softly, lips curving into a smug grin as he glanced around the room. "Any other questions?"

John opened his mouth—then closed it again, shaking his head. "Nope."

Yelena sighed dramatically. "Finally. About damn time."

Bob glanced around uncertainly. "So... they're dating?"

Alexei chuckled loudly, clearly entertained. "Apparently, Bob."

You sighed quietly, eyes narrowing slightly. "We're married, actually."

Another stunned silence filled the room. Bucky smiled brightly, clearly amused by everyone's shocked expressions. "Surprise."

John rubbed his face tiredly. "You've got to be kidding me."

Alexei beamed proudly. "Knew it. Romance always wins."

Yelena glared pointedly at Bucky. "Barnes. You realize you could've told us earlier, right?"

Bucky shrugged casually, eyes sparkling. "Where's the fun in that?"

You rolled your eyes faintly, settling comfortably next to him, arms still crossed.

Bob smiled again, more warmly this time. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, Bob," Bucky replied cheerfully, sliding an arm comfortably around your waist. "At least someone here is supportive."

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How long exactly?"

You sighed quietly, voice flat. "Long enough."

John shook his head again, clearly irritated. "You're both impossible."

Bucky laughed softly, pulling you a bit closer. "And you’re welcome."

Alexei clapped enthusiastically. "Tonight, we celebrate! For secret marriage and vampire love story!"

"Please don't," you muttered dryly.

Bucky chuckled warmly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Too late, doll." You shot him a warning glance, but your lips twitched faintly into a hidden smile.

The team was quiet again, watching you both thoughtfully. Finally, Yelena spoke again, voice resigned. "Well," she sighed dramatically, glancing at John. "Guess we were wrong."

"Painfully wrong," John muttered irritably.

You raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Satisfied now?"

John sighed heavily, eyes rolling upward. "Fine. You win."

You relaxed slightly against Bucky’s side, voice calm. "Good."

Bucky leaned in slightly, lips brushing your ear gently. "That was hot."

You glared sideways at him, voice low. "Behave."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured softly, grinning widely.

Across the room, Alexei chuckled again, clearly delighted. "I told you all. Always romance. Very predictable."

Ava shook her head slowly, smiling faintly. "Congratulations, I guess."

Yelena narrowed her eyes at you again, voice dry. "You realize we’ll still tease you mercilessly, right?"

Bucky smiled warmly, completely unbothered. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

You sighed softly, settling more comfortably against him, clearly resigned. "Great."

Bob looked genuinely pleased, smiling warmly at you both. "You guys look good together."

"Thanks, Bob," you muttered dryly, shooting Bucky another pointed look. "At least someone's happy."

"I'm ecstatic," Bucky teased lightly, squeezing your waist affectionately.

You rolled your eyes faintly, but leaned comfortably against his side, silently content.

Yelena sighed dramatically again, leaning back heavily into her chair. "Finally, we can move on with our lives."

Alexei clapped cheerfully again, utterly delighted. "Yes! Celebrate tonight!"

John crossed his arms, staring pointedly at you as he sat down on the chair. “You’re both very annoying.”

You shrugged slightly, unbothered. “And?”

He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “Just don’t do anything disgusting in the common areas.”

You stared at him, eyes blinking slowly before you pushed yourself off the wall. “Might not want to sit on that chair then.”

John’s eyes widened dramatically as he immediately stood up, practically leaping from the chair. "Oh, come on!"

Yelena snorted, looking both amused and disgusted. "Please tell me that’s a joke."

You shrugged calmly, expression entirely unreadable. "Believe whatever you want."

Bucky’s lips twitched slightly into a smirk. "She warned you."

Alexei chuckled loudly, clearly delighted. "I told you all—secret romance always most exciting."

Bob glanced uncertainly toward John, clearly confused. "Is the chair dangerous now?"

John shuddered slightly. "You really don’t wanna know, Bob."

Ava shook her head slowly, muttering quietly. "I regret everything."

You turned toward the hall, clearly done with the conversation. "I’m going to my room."

Yelena’s voice called after you suspiciously. "Which room is yours exactly, Y/N?"

You paused briefly, glancing over your shoulder calmly. "The one I sleep in."

John crossed his arms irritably. "So, Barnes’ room."

Bucky smiled brightly, clearly amused. "My door is always open."

"Gross," Yelena muttered flatly.

Alexei laughed loudly, utterly entertained. "Barnes, I like your style."

Bucky gave an exaggerated bow, playful smirk firmly in place. "Appreciate it, Alexei."

You sighed quietly, clearly irritated. "Barnes. Let’s go."

He followed immediately, falling easily into step beside you. As you both disappeared down the hallway, Yelena’s voice carried after you. "You’re welcome for finally outing you, by the way!"

Bucky chuckled quietly, glancing toward you affectionately. "That went well."

"Shut up," you muttered dryly.

"You’re cute when you’re annoyed."

You stopped briefly, leveling him with a cool stare. "You realize I could still stab you?"

Bucky smiled fondly, completely unbothered. "You wouldn’t. You like me too much."

You sighed softly, reluctantly relaxing. "Unfortunately."

He grinned widely, gently nudging you forward again. "Come on, doll. Your room awaits."

"Our room," you corrected flatly.

"Right," he said warmly, clearly pleased. "Our room."

Behind you, the distant sound of Alexei loudly celebrating echoed down the hall.

just a little thing to say: i wrote bob with the intention of him actually knowing they were married, and all the questions he was asking was him trying to get the team to also question bucky and reader's relationship.

i also have a part two in the works!

5K notes · View notes

galadrien02 · 10 days ago

Note

i like to think that this was a platonic y/n and jesper fic bc tears SPRUNG when jesper talked

Hi I absolutely loved heal his heart and saw someone say your request are open so I was wondering if u could write kaz brekker x sick reader just how he would take care of her. I’m sick right now and it’s kicking my arse lmao

Hope nice day :)

Deathly Fever | Kaz Brekker

Warning: mentions of severe illness, mentions of traumatic childhood, mentions of needles and bloodletting

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Over the past few weeks, Kerch had become a victim to a new disease brought from the harbor. It spread rapidly, mainly through air circulation and proximity. Many people speculated that the disease originated from Shu Han as a few cases had been reported from there. Other than the few cases, there was really no proof of where it came from.

People began calling it the 'fragile fever.' This was because the first symptom to show was a high fever and people grew quite frail due to their weakened state. The Shu were working frantically to find some kind of antibiotic that would dissolve the bacterial infection, but they had no success thus far.

The number of casualties was rising rapidly, reporting nearly fifty deaths each day. It acted fast and could take a life in less than twenty-four hours. Ketterdam had fallen into a very dark time.

Being part of the Crows, Y/n was always busy with something. She often ran errands for the group, choosing to buy the needed supplies for most of their heists.

It was now mid-afternoon. She was heading back to the club for the day with a much needed roll of parchment and a new container of ink for her boss. She felt incredibly hot and had even broken out in a sweat despite it being particularly cold that day. She brushed it off as her wearing one too many layers.

Back at the Crow Club, the small group of six were gathered to sit around one of the empty tables. The club wasn't supposed to open for another two hours. In the meantime, the group worked on planning for their next heist. They talked amongst themselves.

"Another ten announced dead from the Financial District," Jesper announced with his nose buried in a newspaper. He dropped the paper onto the table.

"It's moving west," Inej realized. She briefly glanced down at the paper.

"Could reach the Barrel any day now," Matthias claimed. He had been leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No news from the Shu?" Wylan asked Jesper. His voice hopeful.

"Nothing that the papers are reporting," Jesper stated. He directed his gaze to look at his boss who sat across from him at the table. He could see that he was deep in thought. "Thoughts on closing the club?" Jesper wondered.

The others turned their heads and looked at their leader expectedly. But Kaz kept his gaze on the silver crow head attached to his cane. He pursed his lips together in thought before shaking his head at the notion.

"No," Kaz said firmly. "We need the business and we need the money."

In that exact moment, the long wooden doors swung open to announce the arrival of someone. The six crows immedielty shifted their gaze towards the source of the noise. Their eyes landed on the familiar figure of the seventh member of the crew. Though, she didn't look quite like herself.

She was covered in a thick layer of sweat, which was clearly evident on her face. She panted heavily to herself; her chest heaving with each breath she took. It looked like she had been running, but she truly hadn't been. The color was robbed from her face.

"I'm...back," Y/n said slowly and breathlessly. She sent them a weak smile, shuffling towards a nearby table to lower her supplies down.

The others quickly looked between each other as if expecting to find some kind of explanation. In the back, Kaz slowly rose to his feet with the help of his cane. His eyes remained on her frail figure.

"Y/n," Kaz called warningly.

It was almost like she didn't hear him because she just kept organizing the things she had brought back to them. Unbeknownst to all of them, Nina moved her hands in a particular motion underneath the table. She sensed her rapid heartbeat, which ultimately meant she probably had a fever.

"Kaz," Nina whispered under her breath. She discreetly turned her head to glance at him through the corner of her eye. "Her heartbeat," Nina began.

He didn't need to be told anything else. He knew what this meant. He inhaled a sharp breathe. He was rudely reminded of his haunting past with disease and how it claimed the life of his brother. He shuddered at the mere thought.

For a brief moment, Y/n felt the entire room go silent. She saw these black splotches begin to cloud her vision. Her head felt light almost. Before she knew it, Y/n had completely lost her footing and had fallen unconscious to the floor.

Without hesitation, the six crows had jumped to their feet in order to rush to her side. It had been Nina who had gotten to her first. She grabbed her shoulder to shift her body to lay on her side. Her fingers hovered over her chest to feel for a heartbeat.

Kaz stood towering over Nina's knelt figure, watching her with hawk eyes. Inej had closed her eyes to say a silent prayer in the background. Jesper had taken Wylan into his arms to bring him some form of comfort. Matthias stood there with as much anticipation as the others.

"She's alright. Just unconscious," Nina announced which made the whole group release a sigh of relief.

"Matthias, take her up to my office." Kaz ordered immediately.

In response, Matthias had dropped down to the floor right beside Nina. He slipped his large arm underneath the unconscious girl's neck, linking his other one under the hook of her legs. He checked to make sure she was secure in his arms.

"Inej, go fetch the doctor." Kaz turned to her. She immediately left their company without another word. "Wylan and Jesper, head down to the market to get medical supplies." Kaz finished.

The two boys nodded their heads understandingly. They rushed towards the entrance with the intent of running to the market as quickly as they could so they could return as soon as possible.

"I'll stay with Nina," Kaz said mostly to himself.

Now Matthias had risen to his feet with the much smaller girl in his arms. He tried to handle her with the utmost care, knowing that if he didn't, Kaz might just have his head. He carefully made his way up the spiral staircase with Nina and Kaz trailing behind him.

Nina went to open the door to Kaz's office. She stepped out of the way so that Matthias could slip through the opening of the office. He stood still for a moment, indecisive of what to do next and where he needed to put her.

"Right over there," Kaz gestured to the sole crimson couch in the corner. So Matthias moved towards the crimson couch. He leaned down to lower the body onto the surface of the couch.

Once Y/n was comfortably laid down, Matthias took a step back so that Nina could sit beside her and Kaz could monitor it all. Nina kept her hand hovering over her chest, concentrating on feeling the pace of her heart rate. She brought her other hand to the side of her dear friend's face, shifting some loose strands of hair out of her face.

Her hair had begun to stick to her skin. Her shirt had a noticeably sweat stain around her neckline. Her breathing was wavering slightly. She looked so sickly up close.

All of the sudden, Kaz didn't see one of his crew members laying on his couch, but instead, the image was replaced of his dead brother who was still covered in those deathly firepox spots and whose eyes had been glazed over. The haunting feeling of his skin being so cold and damp. It gave him chills just thinking about it.

The memories only forced him to turn his head away from the scene. He squeezed his eyes tightly as if trying to push out the images flashing through his mind. He felt a strong sense of bile rising in the back of his throat, threatening to release if he didn't get a grip on himself.

Unable to handle his thoughts any longer, Kaz had left the room in a hurry despite hearing Nina and Matthias calling after him. He slammed the door shut behind him, holding the handle tightly between his leather gloves.

He pressed his backside against the surface of the door and allowed his head to fall back. He closed his eyes once again. His breathing began to increase in speed as he failed to get the sickly image of one of his crows out of his head. His hands shifted to grasp onto the head of the crow cane, keeping him steady.

After a couple minutes of waiting outside, Kaz began to pace back and forth in front of the door. He ignored the slight ache in his right leg. All of the sudden, Jesper and Wylan came clambering up the staircase. They each held a small wooden crate full of vials, rags, and healing herbs.

Upon seeing Kaz, Jesper had halted in his place. He narrowed his eyes at him as if trying to figure out what was going on, but he couldn't figure it out. He cleared his throat to get his boss's attention.

"Got the supplies, boss." Jesper stated.

"Bring them to Nina. She'll know what to do," Kaz did not stop pacing.

With a single nod, Wylan went to enter the office with his supplies. Jesper went to follow him, but he stopped one final time. He stood directly in front of his boss.

"Coming?" Jesper wondered.

Kaz shook his head in denial. He refused to look at him. He took a single step forward to continue his pacing, pressing the tip of his cane against the solid wood floorboards.

In slight defeat, Jesper decided to drop the subject. He turned to walk into the office, joining the others in their attempt to bring their dear friend out of an unconscious state.

Time began to pass.

Before anyone knew it, the large celestial clock of a full moon was hanging high over Ketterdam. The skyline had outstretched its black view of night over the entire city. The stars were sprinkled against the dark sky, almost like salt spread across a table. The lights of the city glowed yellow in the night.

By now, though it had only been a few hours, Y/n's state had taken a turn for the worst. She still failed to wake up. Heavy bags lingered under her eyes and her eyelids had grown darker in color. Her face was still drained of all color and her sweat continued to be an existing condition.

The doctor had been called earlier. He had arrived no more than an hour prior. He checked for the usual symptoms for which he had been seeing every day now. He worked in complete silence. The five crows stood around him and could not take their eyes away.

In the background, Kaz made sure to make no noise as he reentered the office. He stood in the dark corner as he did not really want to be seen by anybody. He held his breathe in anticipation, awaiting to hear the doctor's diagnosis.

Ever so slowly, the doctor lowered her hand back down onto the couch since he had just finished taking her pulse. He reached up to remove the circular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He turned his body around in the chair to address the others.

"Well?" Jesper asked rather impatiently.

"Is she going to be alright?" Inej asked worriedly.

"It's hard to tell," the doctor shook his head.

"Well, what is it? Is it the fever?" Nina persisted. Her fingers pinched a little gold necklace around her neck to ease her nerves.

"I'm afraid so," the doctor replied. "She has all the symptoms."

"What can you do for her?" Wylan pushed.

"Not much I can do," the doctor sighed. He went to open his medical bag, taking out a rather large empty syringe.

"W-what's that?" Wylan practically trembled at the sight.

"It's an option. I can try to bleed her, see if any of the bacteria can be extracted..." his voice trailed off despite his urge to further explain himself.

"But?" Jesper wondered.

"If I bleed her, it might finish her."

Upon hearing this, Nina closed her eyes as if trying to prevent the tears from falling. Matthias went to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Inej began another little prayer to herself. Jesper wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand.

"There is no promise I can save her," the doctor confessed truthfully. "The fever acts fast. Her body grows weaker with each second. I need to know now if you want to to proceed with this."

Hesitantly, the five other crows had turned their heads and looked over to their boss standing in the corner. His eyes remained on the wooden floorboards since he was contemplating his options. He closed his eyes to ignore the stares coming his way.

Even then, Kaz still could not look at her. He couldn't even face his crows, coming to the realization that they were dependent on him to make the final decision on this. He thought for a moment.

"Do what you need to do," Kaz said finally.

Over the next hour, the doctor worked ever so carefully. He had successfully inserted a long tube into her arm to transfer some blood out of her system. The excess blood fed into a single porcelain bowl.

In the given moment, Jesper and Wylan were sitting in one of the corners of the room. They talked quietly to themselves. Meanwhile, Inej had been kneeling at the foot of the bed with her hands folded and her head bowed in prayer. She hadn't gotten up since. Then Matthias was pacing the room as he grew more anxious and nervous with each passing second.

All the while, Kaz remained in his own dark corner. He stood leaning against the wall with the help of his cane for support. Anytime Kaz's eyes fell on the familiar figure on the couch, the haunting memories of his brother came flooding back into his mind. He opted to keep his eyes shut to keep the memories out.

Now Nina came back into the room with a bowl full of cold water. She held a dry rag in the other hand, carrying both of them to the small side table beside the couch. She went to dip the rag into the bowl of water, wringing it out afterwards.

She proceeded to place the wet rag on the sickly girl's forehead in hopes of relieving the heat she felt in her head and to bring down her fever. In response, Y/n turned her head from side to side father slowly. She moaned at the feeling.

After a moment, the doctor removed the single tube from her forearm. He cleaned it off with a spare handkerchief. Then he stood to his feet and took hold of his medical bag. He went to leave the room, but was ultimately stopped by the leader of the group. He halted suddenly.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kaz quirked an eyebrow at the doctor.

"I have other patients to see. Others like her who are dying right now," the doctor insisted while gesturing to the patient behind him. Kaz closed his eyes upon hearing the word 'dying.'

"Name your price," Kaz grumbled under his breath.

"I-I can't stay here," the doctor shook his head in denial. "I have to help others."

In any other situation, Kaz would have stopped the man before he could leave the room. He'd force him to stay there until she got better. He'd pay him all the money in the world if it meant that he could do something to help her. But alas, this time, Kaz let the man go.

Before leaving, the doctor came to a slow halt in his steps. He dropped his head down in slight defeat. He realized that he couldn't do much to help her and he wished he could have done more.

"She's contagious," the doctor announced. He stole a quick glance at the young faces around the room. "If you value your life, you should leave town as soon as you can."

The six crows were able to remain unfazed by the doctor's comment. They glanced between one another, mentally wondering if they were all thinking the same thing.

"No mourners," Kaz began.

"No funerals," the others agreed.

Without another word, the doctor dismissed himself from the company of the crows. The rest of them were left there, slightly uncertain of what to do next. There was a beat of silence.

"We'll take shifts," Nina announced, stepping forward. "Switch every three hours," Nina suggested.

"I'll take the first shift," Wylan offered with a slight raise of the hand.

"I will too," Inej said while standing to her feet.

Over the span of a week's time, the crows had taken turns alternating shifts. It operated in a smooth manner: Wylan and Inej, Matthias and Nina, Jesper and Kaz. Though oftentimes, Jesper was left alone during the shift because Kaz just couldn't stand the sight.

The doctor was only able to come briefly every other day, checking for any signs of improvement. Though they were all running low on energy and sleep, they couldn't begin to imagine how the doctor was since he looked like he hadn't gotten sleep in a whole week.

The city was restless. More people were dying every day. There were a limited number of doctors. They often were forced to pick their work from the person who could pay the most. This left the poor people dying on the streets with no medicine and no doctor at their disposal. Death leaned heavy over the city, claiming the lives of countless innocents.

During the early shift, Inej and Wylan would do anything in their power to make sure their dear friend was comfortable. They tried propping up pillows or covering her with blankets. Inej always prayed over her and Wylan liked to swipe the sweat off her brow with a wet cloth.

In the afternoon, Nina and Matthias were tasked with trying to feed her broth. They would shift her into a sitting position. Nina sat next to her and let Y/n lean her body against her side. This meant that her head was often tucked into the nook of the heartrender's neck. Then Nina raised a small wooden bowl of broth to her lips and helped her drink the warm liquid.

Matthias had to sit in front of the two women. He always made sure that she didn't fall over and that she remained conscious if possible. He wanted to help in any way possible.

In the evening, Jesper and Kaz took on their shift. Out of all the crows, Jesper was the one who tried to defuse the awkward tension. He refused to believe that one of his closest friends was on the brink of death. So Jesper talked.

Especially when Kaz stepped out of the room, Jesper talked to her about anything and everything under the sun. It was almost as if they were just having a regular conversation, but she never responded back. He truly believed that she could hear him though and this encouraged him to keep talking.

Though Y/n had regained consciousness, she was far too weak to even open her eyes or move her mouth to speak. She ate rather slowly and drank little water. Her throat burned with each swallow and her breathes had become strained from effort.

On one particular night, Kaz needed to step out of the room for his own reasons. As soon as the door closed, Jesper directed his attention to the figure who lay on the couch. He leaned forward in slight anticipation.

"This is killing him, you know? Kaz," Jesper said in a low tone of voice.

Upon receiving no verbal feedback, Jesper crossed his arms over the stretch of his chest. He breathed a long sigh of defeat. It felt like their efforts did nothing to help her. They saw no improvement. And it was so disheartening.

"I am already the looks of the operation," Jesper said cockily as always. His cheeky smile faded. His heart became overwhelmed with pure sadness. He felt the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "I really don't want to be the heart now too," Jesper nearly chocked.

Without thinking, Jesper scooted forward in the wooden chair. He took hold of her limp hand with both of his own. He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of it. Then he leaned forward to rest his head against her hand. He cried softly to himself.

"I don't want you to feel bad if you have to go," Jesper cried. He lifted his head which meant the tears rolled down his cheeks. "We'll be alright," Jesper nodded.

Unbeknownst to him, Kaz had quietly opened the door in the background. His hand lingered on the door handle. He kept the door open just slightly to hear the conversation.

"I know what he means to you. And I know what you mean to him, even if he won't let you see it," Jesper added with a slight smile. "I'll look after him. I promise you that," Jesper whispered finally.

Suddenly, Jesper rose to his feet. He went to wipe the tears out of his eyes, sniffling once or twice in the process. He cleared his throat before saying what he thought would be a final goodbye. He pressed a single kiss to the top of her head.

"Goodbye, old friend."

When Jesper had turned around in his place, he was slightly surprised to see his boss standing in the middle of the room. He looked away as if he was embarrassed by his own tears. Instead of addressing it, Jesper simply pushed past him to leave the room and closed the door behind him. And it was just the two of them.

For the first time, Kaz went to sit in front of her. He was careful to lower himself into the wooden chair, forcing most of his weight to lean on his cane. He rested for a beat.

Lowering his gaze to stare down at his black leather gloves, Kaz tried not to think about the painful memories. He just couldn't shake the image of seeing his brother's dead corpse, lifeless and unmoving just like she had nearly been all week.

Now Kaz forced himself to take a deep breath before lifting his line of sight to settle on her sleeping figure. Instead of seeing his dead brother, Kaz was overwhelmed at the mere sight of one of his dearest friends. He wasn't an emotional person normally; he always hid his emotions rather well.

But finally being able to look at her made a part of him break inside. His heart physically ached in pain. He clenched his jaw in order to keep the tears at bay. He felt the anger rising within him.

Why did this have to happen again to him? Why was the world so against him? If saints truly exist, why didn't they save his brother or her by now?

He grew angry at the world just like he had been when Jordie died. He wanted his revenge, but this time, there was nobody to get revenge on. He couldn't help her and couldn't save her.

"I..." Kaz's voice trailed off because he couldn't think of the words.

His eyes trailed down from her face to her hand that was tucked at her side. He slowly moved his hand forward so he could take her hand into his gloved ones. He held her hand.

In a way, Kaz wanted the gesture to bring her some sense of comfort. It acted as a way for her to know that he was there beside her. But in a way, it became more of a comfort for him as he realized she was still with him. She hadn't left yet.

"I'm sorry," Kaz said for the first time.

The Bastard of the Barrel had never been known to apologize to anyone. However, in this particular moment, Kaz felt utterly hopeless. He wished to save her, but he knew he couldn't and he was sorry for it.

"We always say 'no mourners, no funerals.' But I think if you left us...I would mourn for you," Kaz confessed truthfully. "I'd mourn every day for the rest of my life, thinking back on all the times I could have said something about my..."

For his sake, Kaz chose not to finish that sentence. He feared a confession would bring him too much pain at a time like this. He'd save it for now.

"Doesn't matter now," Kaz shook his head. "You'll leave me now here soon. Just like Jordie."

In utter defeat, Kaz rose to his feet and let go of her hand in the process. He went to leave the room without another word. He closed the door behind him as if trying to close another chapter of his life. He couldn't handle it anymore. He broke.

In the very early hours of the morning, Kaz was awoken by a single sun beam hitting the side of his face. He opened his eyes to realize that he had fallen asleep in a chair downstairs. His line of sight was directed to the perch above the club and to the door of his office. It was slightly ajar.

Now Kaz didn't think much of it. That was until he heard a soft sobbing sound coming from upstairs. His heart plummeted into the deepest and darkest confines of his chest. Was she...

The hardest thing he had to do was stand to his feet as he almost felt like he didn't have the energy anymore. He forced himself to climb the spiral staircase, stopping at the very top. He saw Inej sitting on the floor beside the door. Her hands covered her face as she let out small sobs.

Just then, the door of the office opened slightly more. His right hand man stepped out of the room with large tears in his eyes. He took a single step forward to stand in front of his boss. Then Jesper broke out in a smile.

This look was all that Kaz needed. He pushed right past him to enter the room in a hurry. He halted in his steps.

Upon hearing someone enter the room rather loudly, Wylan had turned his head towards the door and revealed Y/n who was sitting up on the couch. She sat next to Nina who was making sure she didn't fall over and who was helping her drink some water.

For some unknown reason, Y/n looked like herself again. All the color had returned to her face. She wasn't covered in a thick layer of sweat since her fever dropped. The dark bags under her eyes had also disappeared from sight. Her eyes were so wide open. Had they always been that color? She looks different; she looks beautiful.

It all made sense now. Inej had been crying tears of joy because her prayers had finally been answered. Jesper had to leave the room because he was so overwhelmed with emotions. She made it through. She was a survivor.

Rather slowly, Kaz limped across the stretch of the room. He refused to take his eyes off her in fear that this all might be some kind of horrid dream. The other crows looked between the two of them, knowing that there was some type of unspoken thing. He stopped right in front of her.

"You're okay," Kaz breathed in a soft whisper. "You didn't..."

"Leave you? Never," Y/n smiled in retort.

"I-I thought I'd lost you," Kaz spoke as if the others weren't in the room. She only smiled up at him.

"You can't get rid of me that easy."

2K notes · View notes

galadrien02 · 10 days ago

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kaz brekker recs

his star | imagine, flangst | @alpurrtwhizkersss

somnum | one shot, flangst | @futurecorps3

when am i gonna lose you? | one shot, flangst | deactivated blog

touch | one shot, smut | @skiller0dani

everything | one shot, flangst | @theowritesstuff

buoy | imagine, fluff | @yelenasbraid

call me what you like | imagine, fluff | @sophierequests

touch | imagine, fluff | @thebadgerclan

pocketwatch | imagine, fluff | @writing-havoc

baby steps pt 2 | two shot, fluff, smut | @heathsbitch

your love could start a war pt 2 | two shot, flangst | @heathsbitch

dust and rubble | one shot, flangst | @writing-havoc

grateful you're mine | imagine, fluff | @sophierequests

take my hand and don't let go | imagine, flangst | @sophierequests

honeycakes and sweetened words | one shot, fluff | @sophierequests

that sick bastard | one shot, flangst | @pregnant-piggy

underestimated | one shot, flangst | @jahayla-parker

nightmare | imagine, flangst | @bookishdream

healing hands | imagine, flangst | @talesofesther

a hot drink and a softer side than usual | imagine, fluff | @bey0nd-1he-stars

shattered paintings | one shot, fluff (bit of angst) | @writing-havoc

kiss it better | imagine, soft fluff | @jakescakeislateforourdate

sweetheart | imagine, fluff | @bloodwrittenballad

i was using you pt 2 | two shot, flangst | @grimbanes

graphology | imagine, fluff | @syllvane

will you marry me | imagine, fluff | @goldengoddess

the lovers | imagine, fluff | @syllvane

heal his heart | one shot, flangst | @webslinger-holland

he just sounds like that | one shot, flangst, comfort | @amsgrey

we have past to bury | imagine, flangst | @axiomsend

someone could lose a heart tonight | one shot, flangst | @sophierequests

forgotten pt 2 | two shot, angst | @ashessonfire

bad kind of butterflies | imagine, flangst | deactivated blog

without you on my mind | imagine, soft flangst | @genyakosstyk

three taps | one shot, flangst, comfort | @happyyyandcrazyyy

being in a relationship with kaz brekker | headcanon, fluff | @cammys-imagines24

deathly fever | one shot, flangst | @webslinger-holland

take it slow | one shot, soft fluff | @amsgrey

blood on your lies | imagine, flangst, comfort | @genyakosstyk

lavender haze | series | @auroravictorium

summer went away, still the yearning stays | imagine, flangst | @reputationgf

anger | imagine, fluff | @reve-writes

apple tree | imagine, fluff | @undiscovered-horizon

ease your mind | imagine, fluff | @lady-ashfade

the set-up | imagine, fluff | @reve-writes

over it all | one shot, flangst | @jahayla-parker

his anchor | imagine, flangst | @zepp-l1n

it's done | imagine, smut | @legends-of-apex

weakness | drabble, fluff | @messers-moony

"that's my wife" | drabble, fluff | @ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes

1K notes · View notes

galadrien02 · 10 days ago

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dark days

Request by @peoniarose . Hi! I just saw your request celebration! Congratulations! You are an amazing writer! I especially love your Shadow and Bone stories. The Kaz one made me tear up 😭. For a request I was wondering if you could do prompt 3 for Kaz. Maybe a romantic pairing. If not platonic is fine! Once again congratulations 🎊🍾🎉🎈!!

A/N: I don't know how I feel about Kaz's characterisation in this... but I like this story a lot so oh, and thank you @intrxpide13 bc i totally borrowed jesper and wylan's daughter from you but you love me so Elizabeth its fine. Also, I desperately need to make some more Kaz gifs for my stories 😂

Summary: Mr and Mrs Rietveld, a locked vault and approximately ten minutes of air left. What could possibly go wrong?

"I'm slightly concerned for my life."

"I have fourteen knives on me, yet I can't help but agree."

"I could knock them both out?"

"Or I could poison their drinks so they're out for a good few days."

"You're all horrible."

Four sets of eyes turned to look at Matthias.

"Do you want to go and tell them to quit it, then?" Jesper asked, nodding over to the bar.

Matthias shrunk back into his seat. "Nope."

Inej looked over at the bar again. "One of them is going to kill the other before the evening is over."

"My bet is on Y/N," Wylan said, leaning around Jesper to grab the bottle of alcohol. "She looks murderous."

"So does Kaz," Nina reminded.

"Nah, Kaz always looks like that," Wylan corrected. "Y/N, however, does not."

"Shit, they're coming," Jesper hissed, slouching back down in his seat.

Silence fell over the table as a murderous looking Kaz and an even more murderous looking Y/N rejoined their group. Y/N pointedly moved away from Kaz, taking Matthias offered hand as she clambered over him to sit in between him and Nina.

Kaz glared at her as he sat down in the chair at the centre of the table, his cane still in his hands. "So, despite some retaliation from certain people," a pointed glare was sent at Y/N but she ignored it, "we're going ahead with the job tomorrow night."

Y/N scoffed but kept quiet.

"Hang on, I thought we'd decided not to do the heist since it was too risky?" Inej asked, frowning.

"We did. Which is why, only two of us will be going into the bank. The rest of us will wait outside and cause a distraction should anything go wrong," Kaz explained.

There was an uneasy silence at the table. Y/N kept her eyes lowered, not wanting to say anything. She knew the plan was stupid. Jesper knew, Wylan knew, Matthias knew - everyone except Kaz knew.

And all because it was related to Pekka Rollins. It was Pekka Rollins they were stealing from - it was Rollins' collection they were taking from.

For no reason other than because they could.

Y/N found herself speaking before she even realised it. "And because it's so risky, Kaz and I will be going in."

Six pairs of eyes turned to stare at her. All had a mix of emotions ranging from concern to murder. The latter belonging to Kaz.

"No offence, Y/N, Kaz," Jesper said, leaning forward. "But how exactly are you getting inside the bank and then to the 'vault' we've got?"

Kaz knew he was going to regret this decision.

He still did it anyway.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Merchlings and Heartrenders, meet Mr and Mrs Rietveld."

The bank was one of the most beautiful buildings in Ketterdam. It was made from white stone with all marble floors and pillars - it was a work of art.

Each countertop was trimmed with gold and the black and white checkerboard floor had the bank insignia set into the middle using coloured marble.

Y/N and Kaz strolled into the bank, dressed in the high-end fashions of the Merchants and the wealthy. Kaz had kept his cane since it fitted in with the general aesthetic they were aiming for but Y/N had had to leave her knives and revolvers behind in the care of Inej and Jesper.

Y/N shifted her arm through Kaz's a bit and he flinched slightly but she didn't notice, far too engrossed in looking at the chandelier hanging over the teller's desk.

"Saints," Y/N whispered, staring at the glass, diamond and gold monstrosity. "One day, I want to have a chandelier like that."

"They're a nightmare to dust," Kaz muttered.

"Like you would know."

The head of the bank beamed at them as they approached his desk. "Ah, hello! How may I help you this fine evening?"

"Good evening, sir!" Kaz said, raising his voice and forcing a smile to his face. Y/N almost shuddered it looked so unnatural. "My wife and I would like to pop into our vault - it's our nieces birthday soon and we're looking for a family heirloom to hand down to her."

Y/N tried not to show her confusion or surprise. at the false story. Kaz often came up with the most random stories during heists but this was a first.

"Of course! What's the vault number and name?"

"Rietveld. And the vault is 230421."

The teller pursued his lips as he flicked through the books. "Ah, here you are!" He opened a drawer and handed a key to Kaz. "I'll have Margot here walk you down. Feel free to make your own way back up once you're done, the dropbox for the keys is by the door."

A young woman with her black hair neatly tied back in a bun stepped forward and smiled. "If you'll follow me, Mr and Mrs Rietveld."

Y/N was never going to get used to that.

Margot led them down a corridor lit by small clam-shaped lights hanging on the walls and to a sweeping marble staircase that led down to the vaults.

"Fourth row on the left, second door in as you walk into the red hall," she explained.

"Thank you," Y/N said, beaming at her gratefully. As soon as Margot left, however, her smile fell. "Niece?! Who's daughter is our niece?!"

"Jesper and Wylan's naturally," Kaz replied, walking down the rest of the stairs.

Y/N picked up the hem of her dark burgundy dress, chasing after him. "What makes you think they'd choose a daughter?"

"The fact that Jesper was workshopping names with Nina two nights ago - the top name, by the way, being Charlotte."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Naturally." She sighed. "Kaz, I still don't think this is a good idea."

"Yes, I know your opinion on this job," Kaz said, barely even glancing at her.

"And do you think if I keep sighing dramatically, I'll make my point?"

"Nope."

"Fair enough."

After walking down the wrong row, getting lost twice and almost being knocked out by yet another chandelier - Y/N was grateful Kaz hadn't been right behind her when she'd stepped back suddenly - they found the vault.

"After you, wife," Kaz drawled, waving to the vault.

Y/N rolled her eyes but walked inside it, her eyes widening almost instantly.

"Saints above," she breathed.

Kaz smirked from behind her. "I know."

Almost every inch of the vault had something either on it or clearly labelled as being inside it.

"Who's vault is this?" Y/N asked, walking further inside, a hand trailing across the edge of a framed DeKappel leaning against the wall.

"It's a generic one, really. Anything we get from heists comes in here until we either sell it or use it for something else," Kaz explained. He walked up to a drawer and pulled out a little key, unlocking it.

"What's in there?"

"The key to Pekka's vault."

"Hang on I thought the thing we were stealing was in this vault," Y/N said, frowning.

"I never said that."

"Kaz, if we get caught -"

"Well, then, we won't get caught, will we?" Kaz snapped, whirling to face her.

Y/N was taken aback by the fire and sheer determination in his eyes that she took a small step back. Kaz closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped.

"We'll be in and out," he said, quieter this time. "I promise."

Y/N nodded. "Fine."

They left their vault and quietly walked down the rows upon rows of other secure vaults, searching for the number engraved on the key in Kaz's gloved hands.

"Why does Pekka Rollins get to you so much?"

Kaz's cane slowed slightly. "He's a horrible person."

"Yes, and so is literally everyone else in Ketterdam, Kaz, that's not a reason. And besides, you're not usually a fight the evil type of person."

Kaz let out an imperceptible sigh. "He took something from me in my first few weeks in Ketterdam. Something very precious to me and... and ever since I've been seeking revenge."

"So, all of this is about revenge?"

"If you want to look at it that way, yes."

"What other way is there to look at it?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.

Kaz stilled. "Well, I suppose the other way to look at it is that I'm just trying really hard to piss him off."

Y/N giggled. And then breathed in and burst out laughing. Kaz stared at her, his lips trying to convince him to smile, his heart pounding in his head. Saints, if he could he would live off her laughter and nothing else.

"Saints, sometimes I forget that, really, we're just children," Y/N said, wiping the corner of her eyes. "Pissing people off works wonders for revenge and pain, by the way. I would know.

Kaz didn't miss the way her eyes twinkled as she paused. He knew exactly what she was referring to. He'd helped her burn down the pleasure house she'd been indebted to - the two of them laughing maniacally as the fire licked up the perfume and memories.

No one had been inside, of course. They may be criminals but they weren't psychopaths.

Kaz smirked. He nodded to the door next to Y/N. "That's the vault."

Once Kaz had unlocked the door it took both of them to actually open it. The door was heavy and thick - probably one of the most protected vaults in the entire building.

"Ok, I was going to ask why we didn't just pick the lock, but now I understand," Y/N said, panting. She braced her hands on her legs and exhaled. "Bloody hell."

"Welcome to the world of locked rooms," Kaz muttered.

Pekka's vault was far more organised than the one belonging to the Dregs. Everything was clearly labelled and had a home.

Which, coincidentally, also made it incredibly easy to steal from.

Kaz was like a magpie when it spots something shiny - he limped forward with such vigour he barely used his cane. He opened a drawer and pulled out an ornate dagger with an emerald handle and two dragons wrapped around the blade.

"Oh, that's beautiful," Y/N said, unable to contain her awe at the blade. She felt heat rise to her cheeks. "Sorry."

"No, I agree," Kaz said, cradling the dagger gently in his hands. He turned around and offered it to Y/N. At her blank stare he said, "your dress does possess pockets, does it not? A rare feat I know."

Y/N rolled her eyes but slotted the dagger into a pocket within the pleats of her skirt. "So, is that it? Can we -"

A loud thud came from outside the vault. Both Kaz and Y/N stilled, slowly turning to see what it was. Neither one of them moved as another thud came followed by whispered voices.

Then the vault door began to close.

Y/N ran up to it and tried to push against it but the automatic locking mechanism kicked in and she was pushed back into the vault. The door slammed shut and hissed as it locked into place. She slammed her hand against the metal and swore loudly.

Kaz silently approached the door and pressed a gloved hand to the lock, running his thumb over it, his eyes scanning the lock closely.

"Please tell me you have a 'we got locked in the vault' plan," Y/N pleaded, panic beginning to set in.

"I do."

"And?"

"Well, I try to pick the lock," Kaz explained, kneeling down in front of it.

"I thought you couldn't!"

"I never said I couldn't, Y/N. See, in a world full of locks and secrets, anyone with the key is king." Kaz turned to face her, his eyes dark and full of malice, full of wanting, full of desire and revenge. "And honey, you should see me in a crown."

For the next few minutes, Y/N sat on the floor and watched Kaz rhythmically fiddle with the lock, his fingers like a spiders legs as it weaved its web.

As the fourth minute of being trapped rolled around, Y/N began to feel short of breath. She looked over at Kaz and could see beads of sweat begin to roll down his forehead and realised that she too was sweating. Y/N shrugged out of her overcoat and dumped it on the floor, pushing the sleeves of her dress up to her elbows.

"The air is running out, isn't it," Y/N said softly, her words slow as she struggled to speak.

Kaz nodded. "The vault door seals off everything. Usually, there is an oxygen supply but -"

"Whoever locked us in here shut it off too," Y/N finished, closing her eyes.

"Yeah."

Kaz sounded defeated. Broken. Y/N opened her eyes and gone was the Bastard of Barrel. Instead was the young boy Kaz actually was.

"How long?"

"Don't know. Less talking means longer."

Y/N nodded. She was growing tired quickly and breathing was getting difficult. There was a metallic ting as Kaz dropped his lockpicks, the metal bouncing on the floor. He hung his head and slumped forward, resting it against the door.

After a moment, Kaz stood up and slowly limped over to sit opposite Y/N, extending his bad leg out in front of him.

"Do you have any regrets?" Y/N asked softly, her eyes closed once more.

"I've lived with regret all my life, Y/N. I'll probably die with regret too," Kaz muttered, pulling the collar of his shirt away from his neck. He leant forward and pulled his arms out of his suit jacket. He sat back and methodically rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "You?"

"I regret ever meeting you."

A breathless bark of laughter.

Y/N smiled. She exhaled deeply, feeling her head begin to get dizzy. Her limbs were heavy and uncoordinated and she suspected that out of the two of them, she would be the first to succumb to the darkness.

"Talk to me, Y/N," Kaz said, tapping her bent knee with his foot.

"Talking bad," Y/N panted, forcing her heavy eyes to open. Kaz was staring at her and for once, his eyes were a storm of concern, worry, despair and acceptance.

"Why were you so against this?"

"It felt unnecessary," Y/N replied, letting her head fall back against the wall. "You do everything for a reason."

"That dagger is worth 5 thousand kruge."

"I know. But you aren't selling it," Y/N said. "It's going on your shelf. This was personal. And personal means blindness hence," she waved a hand around before letting it fall to the floor with a weighty thud.

"Everything is personal with Pekka Rollins," Kaz muttered.

"Why?"

Kaz paused. "I told you why."

"Kaz, we're dying," Y/N said, her words beginning to come in breathless gasps. It pained Kaz to hear and to see how clammy and pale she was becoming. "We are dying so, there's no point... no point in lying." Y/N coughed and then fell back against the wall again.

Kaz looked down at his gloved hands, contemplating his life and choices. He glanced up at Y/N again and a bolt of fire hit his heart as he watched her head loll to the side. Kaz swallowed thickly as he moved to his knees and crawled over to her, coming to sit on her right.

He raised a black hand and lightly tapped Y/N's cheek, almost recoiling as Jordie flashed through his mind.

"I'm awake," Y/N mumbled, her eyes blearily opening.

Kaz gently pushed her head up, grabbing her chin as softly as he could and making her look at him. "Stay with me, ok? Just a bit longer, Y/N."

"I'm tired of this, Kaz," Y/N whispered. "So tired."

Kaz didn't know if she meant him or just life in general. He felt the ocean begin to drown him again but he pushed on, taking her hand in his. His gloved fingers wrapped around her bare ones and Y/N jumped slightly.

"Pekka Rollins took something from me," Kaz said quietly, unsure of where to even begin his tragic tale. "I was twelve when I first arrived in Ketterdam with... with my brother."

"Didn't know you had a brother," Y/N mumbled tiredly, her eyes closed once more.

Kaz was struggling to breathe, every syllable aching on his lungs. "He was older than me and was my whole world. And Pekka took him from me."

"How?"

"Scammed us. Both of us." Kaz paused. "Then the Queen's Lady Plague hit and we both caught it. He died I survived."

Y/N was wheezing, struggling to breathe at all. Her body was growing limper and she was beginning to slump against Kaz.

Kaz shifted, lifting his left arm up to wrap around her shoulders. With every movement, he thought he might drown underneath the waves, underneath Jordie's rotten corpse. But he kept going. Because his time was limited and he wasn't about to let his trauma ruin his last moments with Y/N. Kaz pulled Y/N against him and she slumped against his chest. He could feel how slow her heartbeat was and knew time was running out.

Death was finally catching up to them.

"Except no one knew I was alive," Kaz continued, a hand on Y/N's wrist, measuring her ever weaker pulse. "So, I was thrown on the Reaper's Barge with my dead brother and countless others."

Y/N moaned softly, her head lolling against him. Kaz looked down and tightened his grip around her even as he felt his own breath leave him, his own heart slowing.

"I survived, though. I used my brother's corpse to get to shore and from there..." Kaz chuckled dryly, regretting the action as he coughed violently for a moment. "Well, look at me now."

"I'm sorry..." Y/N whispered, her voice so soft and quiet Kaz almost missed it. "About... your brother."

"He was an idiot." Kaz said the words with so much venom it actually surprised him. "Y/N, listen... I want you to know something."

A soft noise of what might have been yes escaped Y/N's lips. Her eyes were closed and she was so close to just slipping off the edge it was scaring him. Kaz had always seen himself dying alone at a young age. Dying before anyone else because he couldn't see himself living until he was old. He couldn't see himself outliving anyone else.

Yet here he was, Y/N in his arms, watching her die before him. Even if it was just seconds or minutes - he'd still be alone with her dead body for however long it took for death to find him.

Kaz had never seen himself falling in love. He'd lost too much to love to make the same mistake again. But then Jesper had arrived. And then Inej. And then Y/N. And he suddenly had three friends who cared for him. His crows.

"I never thought I could love again," Kaz said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. It was a confession to the Saints Inej believed in, in futile hope they'd accept him with open arms. Y/N shifted in his arms as she went limper, more energy leaving her as the air ran out.

Kaz knew it was far too late for any sort of forgiveness. He'd killed so many, shed so much blood on the streets of Ketterdam that he was long gone. Y/N too. She too had suffered and lost things. She'd been broken by men and slavers and used and abused by those hungry for a side piece.

Somehow, though, she kept smiling. Somehow, she was still kind and loving. She was everything Kaz wasn't. But they were both broken and broken things attracted each other. And broke each other as well as fixing each other.

"I never thought I would love anyone," Kaz repeated, quieter now as his air ran out. "Not after Jordie and... and my Da. Yet here you are. My own Saint from above."

Y/N said nothing. Kaz looked down and realised that at some point whilst he'd been in his own mind, she'd passed out and stopped breathing. He wanted to be sad. He wanted to grieve and cry and try to save her.

But he was just so tired.

Kaz brushed a piece of hair out of Y/N's still warm face and sighed to himself. His eyes began to close and Kaz felt a smile on his face as he stared at nothing.

"Hello, Jordie," he whispered as his eyes shut. "I forgive you."

Kaz finally felt at peace. But then there was noise and too many shadows around and him and too many hands and the water splashed over him and then he bolted upright, his eyes wild and wide-open as he fought off whoever it was.

"Saints, Kaz, it's us!" Jesper yelled, catching Kaz's balled-up fist just before it landed a decent punch to his face. "Kaz, it's Jesper, calm down."

"Let go of my hand," Kaz grounded out, still confused and, honestly, scared.

"Are you going to punch me?"

"At some point, yes, but not right now," Kaz muttered.

Jesper dropped his hand from Kaz's and Kaz instantly retreated into himself, pushing himself away. And then it hit him.

"Y/N..."

Jesper's face fell. He nodded to the side and Kaz's eyes followed his gaze.

Y/N was lying on the floor, her hair spread around her like a Saint's halo, as Nina and Matthias surrounded her, trying to resuscitate her. Matthias pinched Y/N's nose and brought his lips to her blue tinged ones, breathing air into her still lungs.

"She wasn't breathing when we... we got in," Jesper said quietly. Kaz didn't miss the slight break in the man's voice as he spoke.

Kaz didn't say anything. He just watched as Nina brought her hands together and down to Y/N's chest, sending her power through her veins.

"Where's Inej and Wylan?" Kaz asked, his eyes locked on Y/N's body as it rocked slightly from Nina's constant attempts to restart her heart.

"Dealing with the Razourgulls," Jesper replied. "They were -"

"I guessed it was them," Kaz said quietly.

Once again, Pekka Rollins had blinded him. Once again, he was going to lose the person he loved to Pekka Rollins. Once again, Kaz had made a stupid, stupid mistake.

Kaz wanted to tell Nina and Matthias to give up and let Y/N go in peace. He wanted to tell them to just leave her alone and to stop forcing air into her lungs and to stop forcing her heart to beat again.

Because she looked so peaceful lying there. And Kaz knew that peace was rare in a life so broken and so filled with heartache, pain and grief.

"Jes, tell them to stop," Kaz said, his voice cracking slightly.

Jesper frowned at him. "Why?"

"Because..." Kaz inhaled sharply as the words got caught in his throat. "Because she's suffered enough. Let her go."

Kaz could see the conflict in Jesper's eyes. He didn't want Y/N to be dead. But there was no point in forcing her to keep living when she was finally at peace.

Kaz only hoped that when his time finally came, he too would find peace. What shape it would come in, he didn't know. But he hoped he'd find it. And if he did, he hoped Y/N would be there too.

Jesper looked at Kaz. And then he nodded. "Nina, stop," Jesper said quietly.

"No, I can do this, I'm not letting her die," Nina said firmly, shaking her head.

"Nina," Jesper said again. "Let her go."

"No."

"Nina, please, let her be at peace," Jesper said softly, crouching down behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Let her go home, Nina. Let her finally rest."

Nina sobbed and fell back into Jesper, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Jesper wrapped his arms around her, cradling her and shielding her from Y/N's body as all four of them sat in the heavy silence.

Kaz's eyes were locked onto Y/N's body. Even as Matthias moved her hands to rest on her stomach, he stared. He couldn't get over how peaceful she looked. How, finally, she was free of her ghosts.

Kaz shook his head and blinked because he could swear he was seeing things. Because he thought he'd seen Y/N's chest rise. He rubbed his eyes and looked again as Y/N coughed violently, rolling onto her side as she struggled to catch her breath.

Nina's sobs turned into tears of joy as she looked at Y/N, seeing her alive and breathing and making more noise than she had in the last ten minutes. Matthias held Y/N up, rubbing her back as she greedily gulped down the fresh air, clutching Matthias' arm tightly as she braced herself.

Kaz sighed, almost collapsing to the floor with relief.

For a moment there was just silence.

"Nina, I'm pretty sure Matthias has now kissed me more than you," Y/N croaked.

Nina, despite her tears and terror, leant forward and whacked Y/N's arm. And then bundled her to the floor in the tightest hug Y/N had ever had.

Kaz hovered outside Y/N's bedroom door. He knocked once, not allowing himself a second to hesitate. Silence greeted him. Frowning, Kaz opened the door and peered inside.

Y/N's bed was still made - only slightly crumpled from where Matthias had laid her last night after they'd escaped the bank. It was obvious she hadn't slept that night.

Neither had Kaz, in all fairness.

Kaz trudged down the stairs to the main room of the Slat, his eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of her.

"She's in the kitchen," Wylan said sleepily as he shuffled past, a cup of tea in his hands. "Stress baking," he added, raising an eyebrow at Kaz.

Kaz said nothing. He nodded his thanks to Wylan and headed down the corridor to the kitchen. He was greeted by the smell of fresh cookies and his stomach growled in response.

Y/N was humming to herself as she slid the fresh cookies off the tray and onto a plate, picking off the crumbs as she set the tray back in the oven.

"Want one?"

Kaz resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, she knew he was there.

"Have you slept?"

"Have you?"

The tone and the quick response told Kaz everything he needed to know about Y/N's state of mind. Whilst she was usually quick at her comebacks and witty comments, she was never harsh with them. But now, there was something to her words that worried Kaz.

"Wylan said you're stress baking."

He was stating the obvious but he wasn't entirely sure what else to say.

Y/N said nothing. She'd boiled the kettle again and now took it off the stove and poured the water into two cups. "I'm not ok."

Kaz nodded. He inhaled deeply. "Neither am I."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Me neither."

"I do have one question, however," Y/N continued, turning around to face him.

Kaz looked at her, taking in the bags under her eyes and the way her posture was drooping. "What?"

"I don't... I don't remember a lot of what we said to each other last night," she said softly, her voice cracking a bit. "A lot of it is fuzzy but... I remember you mentioned your brother."

Kaz braced himself. He was regretting mentioning his brother and Pekka. Ideally, he just wanted to forget the night had ever happened.

"What was his name?"

Y/N's question stunned him into silence. Of all the possibilities that had run through his head, that question had not been one of them. But then again, he should've realised that Y/N wouldn't pry unless he was ready. It was just the two of them in the kitchen in the late afternoon silence. Y/N looked exhausted and perhaps a bit more broken than she had been the day before but as Kaz stared at her, she gave him a reassuring smile and nod.

When the ocean began to drag him down to the darkness, Y/N's anchor managed to pull him back up and keep him grounded. Keep him bobbing along a bit longer.

So, he looked her in the eye and said: "Jordie. His name was Jordie."

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galadrien02 · 14 days ago

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kaz brekker recs - part 2

bruises and scars | one shot, flangst | @kasagia

his love language | one shot, fluff (some angst) | @moonstruck-poet

life could be a dream | au, imagine, fluff | @thekingdomsfiles

nothing more, nothing less | imagine, fluff | @byeol-ssi

burden | imagine, flangst | @theonewithbrooklyn99

four crows investigation pt 2 | two shot, fluff | @undiscovered-horizon

i don't understand you | imagine, fluff | @lady-ashfade

blue | imagine, fluff | @usmsgutterson

kaz x chronically ill!reader | headcanon, fluff | @ashessonfire

magic on a canvas | imagine, fluff | @bey0nd-1he-stars

schön | imagine, flangst | @mcntsee

sunrise | imagine, fluff | @ashessonfire

dirtyhands and his songbird | imagine, fluff | @mysoftboybensolo

flowers | one shot, fluff | @violetrainbow412-blog

domestication | imagine, fluff | @amsgrey

three moments | imagine, flangst | @redamancyys

lovey-dovey | one shot, fluff | @mcntsee

passing the baton | imagine, fluff | @raz-writes-the-thing

my reason | imagine, flangst | @parkersbliss

dense | imagine, fluff | @reve-writes

diamonds | imagine, fluff | @parkersbliss

tough | imagine, flangst | @parkersbliss

what do you want from me? | imagine, flangst | @rubysunnday (tw)

dark days | imagine, flangst | @rubysunnday

matching bracelets | one shot, flangst | @happyyyandcrazyyy

the confrontation | one shot, fluff | @moonstruck-poet

to leave you behind | imagine, flangst | @rubysunnday

beggin' | one shot, flangst | @rubysunnday

love and tattoos | one shot, fluff | @happyyyandcrazyyy

jumped | imagine, flangst | @narcissisticmf

too sweet | one shot, fluff (slight angst) | @barbarianbookhoe

what does kaz do when you cry | headcanon, flangst | @jakescakeislateforourdate

illicit affairs | one shot, flangst | @petertingle-yipyip

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galadrien02 · 14 days ago

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GRISHAVERSE MASTERLIST

Here's my masterlist for all things Grishaverse, sorted by series, then further sorted by character!

🔥 indicates spice

✨ indicates fluff

⛈️ indicates angst

Last updated: 10/21/2023

SIX OF CROWS DUOLOGY

Kaz Brekker

MIDNIGHTS (kaz x fem!reader)

lavender haze ⛈️

bejeweled ✨

snow on the beach ✨⛈️ (part 1, part 2)

the great war (interlude I) ⛈️

midnight rain ⛈️✨

labyrinth ✨

you're on your own, kid (prequel 1, reader pov) ✨

question...? (prequel 1, kaz pov) ✨

sweet nothing ✨

glitch (interlude II)

bigger than the whole sky

would've, could've, should've

karma

high infidelity (part 1, part 2, part 3) anti-hero

TBA series ;)

to be written

requests

unraveling ⛈️

still in love and half alive

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galadrien02 · 14 days ago

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Kaz Brekker

taglist

{series}

the phoenix and the crow (on going)

back to where it started // back to where it started (2)

he lost his girl // he hadn't lost his girl after all // he found his girl

renegade // he had time (2)

{blurbs}

one last time

stars don't burn forever

silent understanding

all i would've asked

water

dancing

you're cute

apple pie

sunshine to his storm

is that a... dog?

magic girl

a new type of beautiful

the bastard and his crow (male!reader)

vigilante shit

"that's my wife."

{one shots}

the three times she rested on him and the one time he rested on her

the difference (sister!reader)

his whole heart

no harm done

she kept him human

enchanted

back to december

innocent

fingers intertwined

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galadrien02 · 14 days ago

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comfort fics

A/N: a list of my comfort fics in case anyone needs something to cheer themselves up - a lot of these, despite some being angst af - feel like a hug so, take that as you will

Shadow and Bone

Best Friend (platonic jesper fahey x reader - best friend) - @magpiencrow

We’re Not Monsters (matthias x fem!tidemaker!reader) - @buckystarlight

I Have Been Made To Protect You (matthias x inferni!reader) - @buckystarlight

pistols blazing | j.f. (Jesper Fahey x Squaller!Reader) - @lxncelot

i did no such thing (jesper fahey x reader) @magpiencrow

i have no desire to burn | k.b. (kaz brekker x platonic!reader) @lxncelot

company (kaz brekker x reader) @goldengoddess

temptress (Matthias helvar x reader) @magpiencrow

don't let go (kaz brekker x reader) @magpiencrow

Bridgerton

An Absence of Diamonds (anthony bridgerton x reader) - @lxncelot

Youthful (colin bridgerton x reader) @magpiencrow

a sweeter ending (colin bridgerton x reader) @gryffindors-weasley

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galadrien02 · 14 days ago

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beggin'

A/N: am I ignoring my requests in favour of my moots writing challenges? yes, yes I am. Anyway, my darling friend Anastasia (@promenadewithme) reached 400 followers (whoop whoop) and is hosting a writing challenge so, naturally, I had to get involved! I chose found family (obvs), one bed (kaz and one bed, the angst), one gets hurt and the other cleans their wounds (crooked kingdom bathroom scene) and mutual pining but they are both idiots who can't tell they love each other (kaz and literally anyone)

Kaz looked around at the three crows standing before him. Well, Jesper was standing - Inej and Y/N were both awkwardly leaning on him, desperately trying to not fall over onto the wet cobbles.

"Kaz, look at them, we can't walk back to Ketterdam tonight - we need to hide low for a bit," Jesper said, looking at him with surprisingly serious eyes.

Kaz looked at Inej. Blood was staining her upper right arm, turning her blue shirt red. She was standing but swayed as if she was on a boat ever so often.

He looked at Y/N, blood soaking her thigh and dripping down the side of her head. Jesper was, probably, the only thing holding her up on her feet and he could see the temptation to pass out in her tired, sluggish eyes.

"Fine," Kaz said, knowing Jesper had a point. Unfortunately. "We stay the night, get patched up, and then go back to Ketterdam. But be on guard," he said, stepping forward to face Jesper. "We're risking a lot staying here tonight."

"You mean you are," Jesper said, not backing down. His eyes moved from Kaz's face to the satchel over Kaz's shoulder that contained the gold statue they'd stolen. "Is that truly worth risking Y/N and Inej's life over?"

"You know the answer, Jes," Y/N muttered, dropping her head onto his shoulder and closing her eyes. "Can we just get inside before it -"

A loud boom of thunder drowned Y/N's words out and rain began falling. It wasn't heavy and fast - it was the finer rain that soaked you in an instant.

"Before it starts raining," Y/N finished, slumping as the water soaked through clothes.

Kaz swooped his wet hair back, combing it through with his gloved hand. "Come on."

He limped off down the slippery road, his cane hitting the cobbles getting quieter as he quickly walked down the road.

"How, exactly, does he expect us to get to the inn?" Jesper asked, looking at the two women he was holding up. "I know I'm a fabulous person but I do only, in fact, have two hands."

Y/N swallowed, trying to fight the nausea whirling around her, as she pushed herself up off Jesper and onto her feet. "When one of us keels over, switch."

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous," Inej said, letting go of Jesper. "You're the one with a bullet wound to your thigh."

"Yeah, I'm also incredibly stubborn, Inej," Y/N said, giving her a wink that was more of a blink.

Y/N inhaled deeply and began to follow after Kaz, dragging her right leg behind her as she limped forward.

"They're both as fucking stubborn as the other," Jesper said, despair and a bit of surprise in his voice.

"The Saints put them both on this forsaken earth for each other yet made them too stubborn and idiotic to realise," Inej replied, shaking her head.

"Match made in Saintly heaven," Jesper muttered, adjusting his hat before holding his arm out to Inej. "Come on, I want to see if she makes it to the inn or collapses at Kaz's feet."

Y/N made it to the doorway of the village inn before her leg gave way and she fell to the muddy floor. She hissed in pain, grappling for grip on the wall of the inn as she tried to get her feet underneath her again.

"Here."

A gloved hand appeared in her vision. Y/N put her hand in Kaz's - the pain clouding her thoughts as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her up to her feet. She wobbled and Kaz tightened his grip. If she hadn't been in so much pain, she would've noticed the effort and pain on Kaz's face as he fought the urge to rip his hand away and retreat into himself.

"Take this," Kaz said, moving under the porch and leaning Y/N up against the wall and handing her his cane.

"Kaz -"

"Shut up and take it," Kaz snapped. "I can't multitask if I've got to hold you up at the same time."

Y/N took his cane, leaning on it and taking the weight off her bad leg. Kaz took his coat off and shook it out, getting most of the water droplets off. He draped it over his arm and opened the inn door.

Y/N was immediately assaulted by the smell of roasted beef and her stomach rumbled accusingly at her. Kaz nodded to the inside of the inn and Y/N pushed herself off the wall and limped inside. He kept the door open as Jesper and Inej appeared, both soaking wet and looking slightly worse for wear than before.

"I'll go get us a room," Kaz muttered, throwing his coat over a chair and walking off.

Y/N sank into a chair, trying not to hiss in pain as she stretched her leg out, the open wound in her thigh screaming. She leant down and peeled back the makeshift bandage around her thigh, checking her wound. "Jesper, why are you staring at me and whispering to Inej like a child?"

"I'm not."

"Jesper, I can see you - you're not exactly being subtle, love," Y/N replied, looking up. "What?"

"Kaz gave you his cane."

"Kaz also shot me in the thigh," Y/N retorted.

"He did? I honestly thought it was me," Jesper replied, shrugging.

"Jes, if it was you, your hat would have a matching hole."

Jesper reached up and pulled his hat off his head, cradling it close to his chest - much like he did with his revolvers.

"We have a problem," Kaz said as he joined them at their table. "They have two rooms but they only have a single bed."

"That's fine," Y/N said. "We'll just share - Saints know we've done it enough times before."

Kaz nodded stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. "Yeah. Yeah, we have. Jesper and I will take a room -"

"Nah, and leave the two injured alone?" Jesper asked, raising his eyebrows. "They'll probably be dead before the morning."

"Your faith in us is astounding, Jesper," Y/N drawled, looking at him with disdain. "But, he has a point, Kaz."

Inej nodded. "Well, how about I go with Jes and Y/N, you go with Kaz."

Y/N turned her head and glared at Inej - hoping deep down that her look would kill her friend stone dead. Inej just smiled back at her, innocence on her face.

"Yeah, that works for me."

Y/N turned her glare to Jesper. Jesper, irritatingly, just winked at her and smirked. "Fine," she said, knowing there was no escape from her friend's attempt at matchmaking. "But I'm taking the room closest to the ground floor."

There was awkward. And then there was being alone in a room with Kaz, stripped down to a vest and trousers lit by nothing but candlelight and the occasional flash of lighting from outside.

The room was small and warm - a single bed near the window, the foot of it facing the fireplace which was home to a small, warm fire. There was a desk and a table near the door and a painting of the nearby village above the fireplace, a mirror on the wall next to it.

To the right of the fireplace, next to the desk, was the door to an even smaller bathroom.

It was small. It was cosy. It was hell.

Y/N had sat down on the edge of the bed ten minutes ago and hadn't moved since. Kaz hadn't followed her up - he'd stayed downstairs to settle their bill, watching as Jesper helped Inej and Y/N up the staircase and to their rooms.

Her leg was throbbing more than before and Y/N knew she needed to fix it. She began unwrapping the bandage from around her thigh, throwing the bloodied fabric onto the floor.

The door to the room opened and Y/N looked up as Kaz limped in, his cane lose in his hand.

"We can take it in turns to sleep," Y/N said, very aware that she was all but undressing in front of Kaz as she took off her vest, sitting in nothing but her bra and trousers. She doused the vest in alcohol and began wiping the blood from around the wound, edging closer to the gaping hole.

"You need it more than me," Kaz replied, avoiding her gaze as he surveyed the room. "I'll be fine."

Y/N wanted to object but couldn't be bothered to. "Fine." She pushed herself up, leaning on the bed frame. "I'm going to the bathroom."

She awkwardly shuffled and limped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, locking it by sliding the bolt across. Y/N grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting the fabric off her thigh - continuing to ruin her already ruined trousers. Once her trousers were in a pile of bloody fabric on the floor, she put a skirt on - pulling it down over her head - and began cleaning her wound again.

The nausea came back as she looked down at her thigh, desperately trying not to pass out. Y/N gripped onto the counter as the room tilted violently, The bottle of alcohol fell from her hand and smashed into pieces on the floor and Y/N slumped off the toilet, hitting her head on a door handle as she struggled to catch herself.

Y/N slumped against the cupboard, her eyes tightly shut as she took panting breaths in and out, trying not to pass out. Her hands were shaking violently and she could feel the tremors spreading to the rest of her body.

Kaz knocked on the door. "Y/N?"

Y/N inhaled and swallowed. She exhaled deeply through her mouth, feeling the air move through her. Using her good leg to push herself up a bit, Y/N unlocked the bathroom door and then slumped back down.

The door squeaked open. Kaz loomed above her. He'd taken his jacket off and rolled his sleeves up, exposing his forearms. His hair was flopping to one side - damp from the rain. He looked surprisingly casual - the harsh straight lines his coat, hair and cheekbones so often forme seemed more relaxed, like his walls were done.

"Do you need a hand?" Kaz asked, his voice quiet.

Y/N nodded. She didn't know why but she felt tears stinging her eyes. Y/N brushed them away quickly with the back of her hand and sniffed. "Sorry."

Kaz stepped in further, pushing the door open wider. "Can you sit on the counter?"

Y/N nodded. She was like those stupid bobbleheads Jesper insisted on buying from the marketplace each week. Y/N was glad that the towel rail was nailed to the wall as she used it to pull herself up to her feet.

She was upright for ten seconds before her legs buckled and she swayed to the left, towards Kaz and towards the floor.

A hand caught her arm, another wrapping around her waist, pushing her back up and backwards to the counter. The room was a blur of colours and Y/N managed to focus in for a moment as Kaz lifted her up onto the counter.

He moved back as soon as he was sure she wasn't about to fall off. Kaz crouched down, wincing as something in his bad leg popped, and picked up the bigger pieces of broken glass and dumped them into the bin near the door.

"There's alcohol in the sink," Y/N said quietly, leaning back against the mirror, her eyes shut.

She felt Kaz's trouser leg brushed against her bare leg as he moved to the sink and picked up the bottle of alcohol. Her skirt had a slit wear her injured leg was - an attempt to keep at least some of her walls up.

"How's the head?" Kaz asked, his voice like a knife being sharpened.

"Sore."

"Concussion?"

"Probably - how hard do you wish he'd hit me?"

Kaz rolled his eyes. "Are you still annoyed?"

"Put a knife in my hand and we'll find out."

"That's a yes, then," Kaz muttered. He set the bottle down, gripping the wet cloth with his other hand as he looked up at her. "I did what I had to, alright. Per Haskell was sniffing around and to get him to fuck off, I had to do what he said."

"Killing an innocent man for merely knowing someone was what you had to do?"

"Y/N... I didn't kill him," Kaz said slowly. He sighed. "I told him to take his family and run."

Y/N frowned. "But I saw the body... Jesper and Inej were there too."

"A body with a face so badly beaten it was unrecognisable other than the ring which is easily replicated," Kaz replied, a scheming glint in his eyes.

"You lied."

"I used my local resources," Kaz retorted. "Otherwise known as the man who'd been stalking you all month."

Y/N froze. She looked at him as he busied himself with the cloth, cleaning Y/N's thigh, his gloved hand brushing against her skin. "How did you know?"

"Y/N, love, you've been my Crow for three years, now," Kaz said, avoiding her gaze. "I know more about you than you would ever realise."

'I don't know whether to be comforted or scared by that," she said quietly, "He was from the Lotus."

"I know he was." Kaz paused. He lifted his head. "He'd been sniffing around the Crow Club asking about you and when you worked. No one said anything."

Y/N nodded, pushing herself up a bit. "So, he's dead."

"Dead. Burnt. Scattered in three different locations. Same thing." Kaz looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Just... bizarre knowing that he's dead. The man used me for years at the Lotus and then stalked me once I was out. He almost killed me once -"

"I remember."

Of course, he remembered. How could he forget the sight of her stumbling back into the Slat, hands covered in blood and collapsing into his arms, her blood covering his gloves and clothes instantly.

Kaz stared at her, his eyes sharp and focused. Y/N stared back at him. She yelped suddenly, hissing in pain as Kaz unexpectedly poured alcohol over her thigh. "Fucking hell, Kaz," she said, reaching out and grabbing his bare arm.

Kaz froze at her touch but as soon as she'd grabbed onto him she let go, hitting the counter.

"Saints above that stings," Y/N hissed, her eyes tearing up.

"It's called cleaning it," Kaz said, rolling his shoulders back. "Bandages?"

"On my left."

Kaz picked up the roll of bandages. His gloves were stained with blood, red fingerprints appearing on the white fabric. He glanced at Y/N momentarily. She'd slumped back against the mirror but he knew she wasn't asleep because she was bracing herself against the counter.

He didn't question his mind as he pulled his gloves off, exposing his hands. Kaz took the roll of bandages and a wad of gauze and turned back to Y/N.

Neither one said anything but Kaz knew Y/N was watching him and mentally questioning his every move. In silence, Kaz put the gauze over the wound, pressing down on it with one hand, a gasp of pain coming from Y/N. His bare hands looked ghostly in the candlelight - almost skeletal.

Kaz carefully wrapped the bandage around Y/N's thigh, feeding it under her leg, up, around and under again. His bare hands brushed against her bare leg, their skin touching for a few seconds each time. Kaz could feel the cold water seeping into his trousers, soaking him through as it went higher until it was under his chin.

He paused for a moment, breathing harshly. He licked his lips and pressed them together, trying to control the waters.

"I can do it -"

"I'm fine," Kaz said hoarsely. He blinked and looked up at her, their eyes meeting. "I need to do this."

Y/N nodded and kept quiet, letting Kaz get control. It wasn't long before he resumed bandaging her thigh. Once he'd run out of bandage, he tied it into a knot and tucked it in, his fingers pressing against Y/N's thigh.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, her eyes focused on the lid of the bottle.

Kaz looked down to, his eyes locked on to the small connection they'd made in the silence of the bathroom, both of them staring at the bottle lid. "I'm sorry."

"Wasn't your fault. It was chaos."

"I know. Still, my apologies."

"At least we're two for two," Y/N muttered. She'd moved her eyes from the lid to Kaz's bare hand. There was a chasm between them. Yet she leapt across it as she reached out and put her little finger over his. He flinched but didn't move.

"At least we're two for two," Kaz echoed. He reached out a hand and pulled her down from the counter.

Y/N stood up, wobbling slightly, as Kaz looked up at her. They were the closest they'd been in months - only a few centimetres between them. Y/N looked at him, her eyes locking on to his with burning desire. They were still holding hands - their bare skin touching.

A loud crack of thunder made them both jump and they sprung apart. Kaz cleared his throat and stepped back, the chasm returning.

"Bed," Kaz said, his voice back to its usual roughness, no hint of emotion. "We need to leave early tomorrow."

"Yes, boss," Y/N said, nodding.

Kaz limped over to his cane and threw it to Y/N. She caught it and followed him out the bathroom - their limps matching.

"Kaz," Y/N said as he pulled out a chair and threw a cushion on it. "We can share the bed. It is big enough."

Kaz looked at the bed, hesitation in his eyes. He'd come so far tonight. The water was at his chest and was going no further.

"Ok," Y/N said, noticing the hesitation in his eyes. She grabbed the pillows and a blanket and made a wall along the middle of the bed. "There. I won't touch you and you won't touch me. We have our own space."

Kaz looked at the bed. And nodded once.

Y/N laid down on the bed, letting the cushions fall onto her as Kaz clambered onto the other side, leaning the cane against the wall. They both laid there, backs to each other, the wall between them. The chasm was now just a river.

Y/N dozed off after a few minutes. She woke up only a few hours later - it was still dark and raining outside - and rolled over. Kaz had gotten up a few hours ago - she'd felt the bed move as he did sp. But as Y/N rolled over, she saw him sitting in a chair, near the edge of the bed, eyes shut, hands clasped together over his stomach.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N," Kaz muttered, his eyes still shut. "We've got a few hours yet."

Y/N smiled to herself as she laid back down, closing her eyes. The pillow she laid on still smelt of Kaz.

3K notes · View notes

galadrien02 · 14 days ago

Text

this is the best thing, actually

shadow and bone masterlist

aleksander kirigan (the darkling)

kaz brekker

i love you: the first time kaz ever tells (y/n) that he loves her.

“together?” “always.”: (y/n) is badly injured and kaz finds himself reminiscing on their past together.

angel of death: (y/n) excels at murder and kaz needs someone just like that on his crew.

three taps: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

matching bracelets: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.

love and tattoos: it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

matthias helvar

213 notes · View notes

galadrien02 · 14 days ago

Text

love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.

it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”

warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 @demitriacalynn (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!

i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.

Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.

It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.

ii. you break, i mend.

Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.

The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.

Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.

He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.

‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.

Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.

He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.

The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.

(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.

“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.

Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.

(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.

By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.

(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.

“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”

Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.

Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.

It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.

Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.

“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.

The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.

Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.

“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”

She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.

“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.

Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”

Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.

Saints.

It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.

The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.

“Are you with me?”

No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.

It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.

“None of that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.

“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”

“I know.”

A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”

Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.

It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.

“If you break, I mend, remember?”

(mend

BREAK)

Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.

Saints be damned.

Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.

iii. a raven and a crow

The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.

He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.

It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.

“Inej?”

“Good.”

Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.

“Jes?”

“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.

He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.

The goods are safe.

“Nina?”

“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.

There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…

His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.

Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.

And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.

(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.

And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.

There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.

Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.

Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.

“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.

For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.

She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”

Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)

“You’ve got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”

His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.

“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.

Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.

(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.

“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.

Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.

“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”

“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.

“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”

(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”

He pouts.

“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”

He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”

Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.

“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.

It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.

He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”

It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.

“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.

“A raven?”

“Yeah.”

Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.

Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”

Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.

And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.

(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”

Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.

“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.

Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.

(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”

Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.

She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”

(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.

“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”

“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.

“You know it’s true.”

He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.

Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”

And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.

Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.

“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”

The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.

“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.

(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.

“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”

Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.

“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.

“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.

(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”

It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.

The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.

A Raven.

No fucking way.

He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.

Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.

(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)

iv. a broken lock and a key

Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)

(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.

After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.

He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.

Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.

On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.

So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.

It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.

Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.

“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”

(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”

And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.

He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.

She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.

He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”

“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.

“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.

“You’re gonna keep me company?”

Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”

She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.

It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”

(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.

“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.

“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.

There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.

She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”

He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”

“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.

And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”

He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.

To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”

His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.

“What?”

There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.

“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.

Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.

v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.

As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.

“Did you finally figure it out?”

He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.

“What?”

She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.

“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”

Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”

“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”

“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”

“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”

Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?

“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”

He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.

“Yeah.”

“Actually?”

She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.

“Got the documents to prove it, too.”

Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”

“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."

Jesper understands.

He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.

Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.

“Lovers, huh?”

(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.

“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”

2K notes · View notes

galadrien02 · 14 days ago

Text

DAMN SHAKESPEARE?????

matching bracelets (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.

based on the prompt: person A gets person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.

warnings: mentions of blood and torture (not explicit, briefly mentioned)

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: guess who's back after a year of being mia!! i've been working on a lot of fics, but inspiration just hasn't been there, so i'm going slow, i don't like to force myself to write if i don't feel like it. anywaysss, i hope you enjoy this one! it was such a fun ride to write :)

Jesper opens the door with a loud bang, strutting into the Slat with his head held high and a slight jump in his step. He’s whistling good-naturedly, his left hand twirling a pistol and his right hand holding a rumpled piece of paper.

(Y/N)’s right hand— which had immediately reached for the pocket knife in her boot at the tumultuous noise— retreats back to her side. She relaxes, letting her shoulders sag and briefly looking down to make the final correction on a contract Kaz had her look over, left hand holding the pen and swiftly moving over the paper.

Jesper makes his way towards her, still whistling. She follows him from the corner of her eye, a slight smirk taking over her features. He’s in a good mood, the kind of mood he’s only ever in when the Gods are in his favor and he manages to miraculously not gamble away all his money. It’s not something that happens often.

“Did you win some?” she asks, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way the Sharpshooter preens under the attention. Jesper, very much in character and to (Y/N)’s delight, twirls around and does a ridiculous dance before taking a small bow.

“Baby, I won a whole lot.”

She huffs out a laugh, leaning back as she watches him place the pistol in its respective holster before plopping down on the chair by her right side and tossing her a small bag.

(Y/N) catches it smoothly, reflexes as sharp as always.

She doesn’t need to open the sack to know there’s kruge in there; the sound of coins jiggling against each other is a dead giveaway.

Jesper winks, a teasing smile on his lips. He tips his chair back, feet on top of the table, “Because you’re my favorite.”

It’s really because he owes her more kruge than he’ll ever be able to repay, but (Y/N) plays along. She’s never cared much about money, anyways.

“You sure do know how to charm a lady,” she smirks.

“I’m good at charming gents, too.”

“Versatile.”

“You know me.”

(Y/N) smiles, softer around the edges this time, something reserved only for her closest friends. She’s about to being correcting another contact— she has twelve to go through, all because she’d been bored and had decided annoying Kaz would be a great way to spend her time, he obviously hadn’t agreed —when Jesper slides over the piece of paper he’d been holding in his right hand. In the time he’d made his way towards her he’d somehow managed to crumple it completely.

She takes it, half curious, half willing to do anything to procrastinate revising and correcting those stupid documents.

“Brought this for you, too. I’ve got the feeling you’re going to enjoy this much more than the money.”

Her eyebrows furrow with curiosity as she slowly opens up the paper.

Ink contrasts the yellowish hue of the paper. Her own face greets her, drawn by hand, but fairly accurate.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Wanted dead or alive.

1,000 kruge.

She can’t help the snicker that falls from her lips

Jesper is right. This is better, much better.

“Can’t believe it’s only a thousand this time,” she huffs, a small pout on her lips. “I must be losing my touch.”

Jesper snorts at that.

(Because she hasn’t lost her touch, not even a little, and they both know it. Just yesterday she’d managed to get vital information out of a Black Tip member with a single touch and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Three days before that she’d disposed of a rival gang member who’d been speaking too freely and she’d made sure his body would never be found. Two weeks prior to that Kaz had sent her to steal a miniature stature and she’d done it without a hitch, forging an identical copy in less than five days. No, she still very much has it.)

“I might have to go overboard next time,” she muses quietly to herself, “do something that will raise the bounty to at least two thousand five hundred.”

She traces the outline of her name, biting down a smile when Jesper snorts.

“You’re insane,” the Sharpshooter deadpans, the fondness in his tone almost tangible.

(Y/N) smiles wickedly at him, “So they say.”

Marbles is what they’ve nicknamed her around the Barrel. They say she’s lost them all. And it must be true, she must be out of her mind, because having a bounty on your head in Ketterdam is nothing less than a death sentence. It means having the most ruthless assassins coming after you, all looking for a way to make fast money. It’s living with the constant fear of someone sneaking up on you and slicing your throat, of having your food poisoned, of being choked to death in your sleep, of having your closest friends betray you as a means to survive. But to (Y/N), who has been part of the city’s underworld since before being able to formulate words, who has had any sort of ability to feel fear beaten out of her, this is nothing but one of the most amazing sources of entertainment. It keeps her on her toes, brings an adrenaline rush that does not compare to anything else. She must be crazy because any sane person would be paralyzed in fear, running for their lives, and yet all she can feel is the comforting thrill of being in mortal danger. (And, yes, it is comforting. She was raised to be a weapon, trained to withstand any form of torture; having Death peering over her shoulder is something she’s comfortable with, something she’s used to, something that soothes her). Besides, even if she wasn’t deadly confident in her own abilities (which she very much is), and even if she was able to feel terror overtaking her limbs (which she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel again), the title she holds would be enough to keep her relatively safe; she is Kaz’s right hand, and no one dares touch something that belongs to Dirtyhands.

(Y/N) stares at the poster for a little while longer— they got her nose wrong, made it too pointy —before smirking to herself. She knows how this will all go down, has seen it played out a few dozen times before (this is a regular occurrence, after all, a bounty is placed on her head every couple of months, whenever she loses her temper and murders someone who was deemed untouchable, or steals something much too valuable for her blood-stained hands). So, yes, she knows how this will go; the bounty will stay up for a couple of weeks, long enough for a few to dare try to kill her, and then it’ll be removed by whoever placed it once they realize it’s futile, once they see how everyone who even dares breathe too close to her winds up dead. She hopes the assassination attempts are entertaining, she hopes whoever dares come after her head gives her a good fight, if only to keep things interesting. It’s been a while since she’s had some unrestrained fun.

(Kaz keeps her on a tight rein, knows better than to let her run around freely. To say things can get out of hand when she’s left to her own devices would be an understatement.)

“Again?”

The voice comes from behind her, and (Y/N) doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she heard his steps since before he even walked into the room. (It’s easy to know when it’s Kaz, he subconsciously places more weight on his left leg to keep the right one from aching, it makes his footsteps distinctive.) Still, she angles her head to meet his eyes. He’s leaning over her chair, cold eyes watching the bounty poster with disdain.

He’s never said it but (Y/N) knows that he doesn’t appreciate her life being imperiled. She is, in a way, an extension of him, and therefore any threats to her he sees as direct threats to him. Dirtyhands doesn’t take it well to being threatened.

“It’s okay, boss,” Jesper calls out. He’s still tipping his chair back, now playing with his guns. (Y/N) is kind of tempted to lean forward and kick one of the chair’s wooden legs, just to watch him struggle, possibly even fall. But Jesper’s known her long enough to realize when she’s on the verge of becoming a nuisance because his eyes narrow playfully and he lets the chair’s weight drop forward, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) can see the way Kaz’s face morphs. It’s almost indistinguishable, but she notices it. She thinks she would be able to spot the most minimal change in Kaz, she’s known him long enough for that. (Y/N) watches in amusement as he opens his mouth, no doubt to argue that he isn’t worrying at all, because Gods forbid he ever outwardly cared about anyone, but Jesper beats him to the punch and keeps going, “Heard some of Pekka’s Lions talking ‘bout how they’re not even going to try to come after her this time.”

“How boring,” she mutters to herself in disappointment, reaching for her glass of whisky. She’d meant for the comment to go unheard but Jesper’s snicker tells her that she wasn’t successful.

She takes a chug as Jesper points an accusatory finger at her and smirks, “That’s all on you, Marbles.”

At her bewildered look, he elaborates, “Two of them said something about not wanting to meet the same fate as the Razorgull guy from a couple of months ago—” (Y/N) smirks at that. The guy had deserved it. He hadn’t just tried to kill her, but also grope her. Murder she could understand, respect even, but touching someone else without their consent? No, she drew the line there. She’d had him swallow his own testicles; it’d seemed fitting enough. “—and the other one said that even if you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t come close, not with you being Kaz’s right hand,” Jesper pauses for a second, a smug smile appearing on his lips, “and his best friend.”

Their reaction is instantaneous; Kaz goes rigid at the words and a smirk takes over (Y/N)’s features.

Oh, if the night didn’t just suddenly get better.

She glances up at her best friend, only to find him already glaring daggers at Jesper, who shrugs helplessly and innocently says, “Just telling it like I heard it, boss.” The flicker of amusement in his eyes reveals that he’s very much aware of just how much ammunition he’s provided (Y/N) with.

(Y/N)’s smirk becomes wider and gains a teasing edge when Kaz looks down to meet her eyes. His eyes harden, explicitly telling her to not utter a single word. Sadly for him, she has never been one to follow the rules, and Kaz must notice she’s not about to obey because his face morphs slightly, just enough to show the most minimum amount of discomfort. He cringes just the tiniest bit, bracing himself.

He knows her too well.

“You hear that?” she asks him, tone light and filled with amusement, “We’re best friends!”

“We are not,” Kaz tenses his jaw as he replies. He backs away from her, as if creating physical space between them will somehow stop the words from leaving her mouth and making their way towards him. As if distance could make her less of an bother.

(Y/N) fake gasps, clutching the skin over her heart in the most dramatic manner, “You wound me deeply, Kazzy.”

Jesper snorts, coughing to try to drown the laughter. She might be the only one who doesn’t get a knife to the jugular when calling him that.

Kaz’s eyes snap toward the Sharpshooter and the look must be deadly because Jesper quiets down immediately and tries his best to evade the boss’s glare. Kaz’s gaze then shifts towards (Y/N) and she perks up at the way his eyes harden even further in annoyance. He’s told her a million times to drop that ‘ridiculously stupid’ nickname and she’s decided she never will, not when it drives him to this point of exasperation.

(She’s a thrill chaser, you see. That’s what happens when you’ve seen just about everything and lived twice as much; few things get your heart pumping. And getting on Kaz’s nerves? That’s always exciting. (Y/N) never knows what to expect of him. The Bastard of the Barrel is unpredictable in a way that’s just delightful.)

“If you call me that one more time—”

“What are you gonna do? You can’t possibly try to hurt me. Best friends don’t do that to each other,” she mocks.

His eyebrow twitches, her grin stretches.

Oh, she’s going to have a field day with this one.

It’s obvious that Kaz knows he’s not winning this discussion because he walks forward, snatches the revised contracts and makes his way back to where he came from.

“Get those done before tomorrow afternoon.”

Boring. She was expecting more banter.

(Y/N) turns around to watch him leave, unable to stop herself from throwing a sarcastic, “Sure thing, bestie.” She does her best to sweeten the last word in a way that she knows will infuriate Kaz.

He freezes.

Bingo.

Even from afar, (Y/N) can see the way he tightens the grip on his cane. She’s thoroughly disappointed when he doesn’t throw a dagger her way. That would’ve been exciting. He takes another route, one she should’ve seen coming.

“I’ve got seven more files that need to be corrected. Collect them when you’re done with those.”

The corner of her lips tugs upwards slightly. There’s something thrilling about playing this game with Kaz, of seeing how much one of them can push before the other yields. He’s skilled and she enjoys the competition.

She ignores his order, “Goodnight, Kazzy.”

He slams the door on his way out, the only visible sign that she managed to get on his nerves. That’s mildly entertaining. Causing even the slightest slip of Kaz’s control over his temper is a success in her books.

“You’re out of your mind,” Jesper informs her.

She raises her glass of whisky at him and winks.

And that’s how it begins, as a joke. (Y/N) refers to Kaz as her best friend on every given chance. His reactions never disappoint.

There’s a lot of death threats;

(“Don’t mind him, bestie here is always grumpy.”

Clenched jaw, an exasperated sigh. “I will murder you.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Kazzy.”

There’s a knife thrown her way. (Y/N) catches it with ease, whistling good-naturedly. She smirks when she catches the look of annoyance in Kaz’s face.)

and a lot of not so kind words thrown her way.

(“I get special best friend privileges, right?”

“You get tolerated,” Kaz mutters, “barely.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Now tell me you love me.”

There’s that Brekker glare, one that would send anyone to an early grave. (Y/N) just smiles sweetly.

“Get out.”

“Whatever makes you happy, best friend.”

She cackles as she closes the door behind her, the curses Kaz is sending her way loud enough for her to hear.)

All in all, (Y/N) is as happy as can be. Having the time of her life, really. It’s not often that she finds something that makes Kaz fume. He plays the game too, of course. He has her going over financial documents and legal contracts on her free time, knowing just how much she hates the bureaucracy, and he gives her the household chores she despises the most. Still, (Y/N) doesn’t complain. She does everything with a smug smile on her face. The annoyance that flashes through Kaz’s face makes it all worth it.

The bracelet isn’t something she plans for, it really isn’t, but the Saints place the opportunity right in front of her and who is she but a mere mortal that must obey the signs evidently laid by otherworldly deities (or whatever bullshit those religious fanatics preach).

(Y/N) inspects the wristlets in her hand. They’re black and rough, made of broken-down nets that fishermen dispose of near the pier when the material has worn down beyond repair and is no longer useful. The little girl who had sold it to her couldn’t have been older than seven, and yet the design was more than decent. (Y/N) had offered three kruge for it, much more than it was worth. The child had looked delighted, had thanked her profusely as she’d placed the coins inside her worn-down shoes.

Oh, (Y/N) cannot wait to see Kaz’s face.

“What’s that?” Jesper asks as she meets up with him, eying the bracelets with a gleam of interest. He twirls his guns absentmindedly, missing the way some of the fishermen glance at him with distrust.

“Oh, you know, just some matching bracelets for me and my best friend.”

Jesper snickers, shaking his head and proceeding to let out a low whistle.

“This might be his breaking point.”

“Wouldn’t that be delightful.”

“You’re insane, Marbles.”

She gives him a wicked smile accompanied by a wink. She’s about to retort when she catches sight of a shadow on the corner of her eye. She recognizes it immediately as her target. Shopping, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the reason she and Jesper were waiting by the pier. They’ve got orders. She has people to torture and interrogate and dispose of— preferably in a quiet manner —and Jesper is Kaz’s way of making sure she’s got her back covered. (Not that she needs backup, but whatever, she has tried arguing with Kaz about it and it’s the one thing he won’t relent on, the one matter she’s accepted she won't ever win. Kaz doesn't play when it comes to her safety.).

“If you’re kind enough to hold these for me,” she places the bracelets on Jesper’s unoccupied hand, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

They make it back to the Slat before sunrise. (Y/N) had been quick and efficient, as she always was, and Jesper had been a quiet and solid shadow, as he always was.

“I assume it all went according to plan,” the Bastard asks when he hears their steps coming into his office. It’s late, or rather extremely early in the morning, and yet (Y/N) isn’t surprised by Kaz’s presence. He rarely sleeps.

“It went without a hitch, boss,” Jesper responds, resting against the doorframe.

(Y/N) hesitates for a split second, her memory providing a brief flashback to the interrogation she’d done, to three little words the man had let slip out: they’re coming for you.

A warning or maybe a promise.

Thrilling, either way. It wasn’t often that she was verbally threatened.

At the time, she’d dismissed the words, too filled with bloodlust to pay them any mind, but now, with a clear mind and a steady heartbeat, she suddenly remembers her face plastered on paper all over Ketterdam and wonders if the words might be related to the bounty on her head.

Oh, she hopes so. That would prove to be fun.

They’re coming for you. Good. Let them try.

She nods her head in agreement with Jesper’s words. Kaz nods in approval and then jerks his chin Jesper’s way, a clear sign of dismissal. The Sharpshooter never walks into Kaz’s office after missions like this. He’s an escort, a babysitter of sorts, merely Kaz’s way of making sure she heads his way instead of making a beeline for her bed.

(Y/N) sticks her tongue out at him and Jesper blows her a kiss in response.

Lucky bastard. It’s always her that has to stay up to report. And she hates to admit it, but she’s tired, she can feel the exhaustion begin to creep on her bones and settle in. She has been up for more than thirty-seven hours at this point, and she can feel it catching up to her. Still, she knows that Kaz prefers to hear details when the information is fresh on her mind, when she can provide as much detail as possible, so she pushes through for him. She just has to wait a little while longer before crawling into her bed and passing out for the next twelve hours.

“Marbles comes bearing gifts by the way,” is the last thing the Sharpshooters says before exiting.

A smirk takes over her features, sleep, exhaustion and the new information briefly forgotten.

Kaz is going to hate it.

Lovely.

Kaz seems to sense, probably by the wicked amusement on her face, that whatever it is it’s not something he’s going to enjoy. His face twists into a scowl.

“Out with it, then.”

She pulls out the dark bracelet from her pocket as she walks towards Kaz, dangling it in front of his face when she’s close enough.

Jesper had handed them back on the way home, tossing them over as soon as she’d wiped the blood off her hands. He hadn’t said a word, but (Y/N) knew that the action had meant to snap her out of the weird haze that clouded her mind after every mission, where adrenaline still coursed through her body and all she could think about was bloodshed, fingers itching to kill and maim and fight.

(It was a thing, the haze. When taking lives there was nothing but calmness and bloodthirst, the restlessness that always lingered beneath her skin subsiding as soon as a weapon was placed in her hand and orders were given. And as soon as the mission was done, as soon as the target was neutralized and she’d efficiently fulfilled her orders, fogginess followed. Her mind became clouded, as if somewhat trapped in a loop of violence, every nerve on edge and ready for any threat to emerge.

She was brought up as a killing machine, a child soldier, the best out of all the assassins produced by the Silent Blades, her father’s pride. She was ruthless, wretched, or at least those had been the words used to describe her when she’d been a child. She supposed the dissociative state she slipped into was normal when considering her upbringing, some sort of psychological shield that kept her from going insane.

She never spoke about it, but the Crows somehow knew. They often eased her out of it, knowing full well that when trapped in that state she had not an ounce of thought and only muscle memory to rely on, which made her infinitely more lethal.)

Jesper’s actions had worked like a charm. With something else to do with her hands, the fogginess had ruptured. She’d absentmindedly tied one of the bracelets on her own wrist, fingers playing with the edges of the other.

It’s that bracelet, the one on her arm, that Kaz glances at now. It’s brief, but for a split second the scowl etched on his face softens and something that she can’t quite catch passes through his eyes. It’s gone before (Y/N) can even begin to process it.

“Best friends have to have matching bracelets, don’t they?” And if she wonders about it later, she’ll blame it on the exhaustion, but the words come out softer than she intends them to. A jest, but not any less truthful.

Kaz’s face morphs and she gets a fleeting glimpse at that flicker in his eyes again. His scowl melts into something a tad bit gentler, the look contrasted by the aggressiveness with which he snatches the bracelet from her hand, “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He means that and his tone has enough bite to make her cackle.

Amusing.

Placing her hands on her back pockets and shrugging, she responds, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kaz snorts, “Go take a bath.” He dismisses her, turning around and making his way to his desk, “Reports can wait until you don’t look half dead.”

That’s unexpected.

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows, “You’re being nice.” It isn’t often that Kaz forgoes a report after a mission. He might’ve been more touched by the gift than he’s letting on.

“It’s for my own sake,” he retorts, not turning around, “you just stink and it’s making me nauseous.”

She does have a lingering smell of blood and sea water.

“Everything in this damned place stinks,” she responds. I know you’re lying, she’s saying, I know you’re being kind.

“Get out.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” (Y/N) mocks, walking out of his office.

She sleeps a full day after that, everyone knowing better than to bother her unless they want to lose to their head, and when she reports to Kaz the next morning the three words she’d heard from the man slip her mind. (Y/N) doesn’t remember them until a few weeks later when she’s tied to the ceiling by her wrists, face bleeding.

Now, she must admit, she’s impressed. No one had ever tried kidnapping before. There’d been more attempts on her life than she could even count; stabs resulting in blood being shed, never one drop of hers, poison that she had either swallowed down like a champ or identified before a single lick of it touched her tongue, because being raised an assassin meant she’d been trained in the art of toxins and she’d built up tolerance to pretty much every substance in existence, and that one time they’d tried to shot at her, which only resulted in (Y/N) stealing Jesper’s gun and placing a bullet right between the perpetrator’s eyebrows. All in good fun. Kidnapping was new, but only because those who had attempted on her life had never tried joining forces, all of them wishing to keep the financial reward for themselves.

Torturing, that was new, too.

She could endure, of course she could, she’d been trained for this. That did not mean she’d missed it.

The poster had stated she was wanted dead or alive and it was clear that the man in front of her wanted to take his time. It was personal, she could tell by the brunt of his hits and the delicate precision of his cuts. Had she been anyone else, she would’ve been begging for it to stop, but (Y/N) was a Silent Blade, even if she’d left the organization and that life behind, and she would never break.

The only reason she was in this situation was because the assailants had gotten the upper hand. They’d used one of (Y/N)’s street urchins— a little girl with piggy tails and two missing teeth, one of the ones who gathered information for (Y/N) and traded it for food and shelter —as leverage. And time had apparently made her soft because she’d hesitated. The brief second of doubt had been everything they’d needed.

Them subduing her didn’t mean she’d gone down without a fight. There’d been five of them in the beginning. Only three remained. She’d plucked one guy’s eye out, going deep enough to sever the optic nerve and cause brain damage, and she’d ripped the other’s ear with her teeth before slitting his throat. She’d managed to stab one of the three men remaining with a dagger before being injected with some unknown serum. It hadn’t knocked her out, not the way it was supposed to if the incredulous look on her kidnapper’s face was any indication, but it had drugged her enough to allow them to overpower her.

And now here she was, slowly bleeding out.

“I intent on handing your corpse to them and claiming the reward.” He’s been quiet for so long that (Y/N) had almost forgotten his presence. She doesn’t raise her head, only looks up. It’s hard to do so when her right eye is swollen shut. “But they never specified the conditions it had to be in.”

The man has his back towards her, fingers running through a box of tools. He’s used almost all of them on her by this point. Amateur. A skilled torturer knows to go slow, to drag it out, to choose a weapon and stick to it until the person is weeping and screaming.

“It was my brother that you killed.”

That sparks her interest, a smirk taking over her bloodied lips. She looks at him, dead in the eye.

“Which one?” she taunts.

The sound of her voice, still strong despite the blood loss, startles him. He freezes for a split second, hand over a wooden baseball bat.

“What?”

She snickers, blood dripping into the floor. “I’ve killed a lot of men, darling.” The way he seethes, fury filling his features, amuses her. “So which one was your brother?”

“You had him swallow his own testicles.”

“Oh, him,” she nods her head in appreciation. “Can’t say I regret it.”

Now he’s fuming, hand shaking so badly he almost loses the grip on the bat. If (Y/N) looks close enough she can see the resemblance. Same brown hair, same nose, same crazy look in their eyes.

“I’ll make you regret it.”

“You can certainly try,” she concedes mockingly. Because, honestly, there’s nothing he can do to her that she hasn’t already withstood.

There’s a raging roar and then a burst of pain. A hit to her abdomen, which no doubt bruised a rib, and then two to her back. But it’s okay, she thinks to herself as she wheezes and coughs, trying to regain air in her lungs, she knows how to play this game and how to win it. Keep him talking, keep him angry, let him think he has the upper hand, keep him from noticing how she’s preparing to break free.

“I wonder…” he murmurs, bat dragging behind him. “You’re not particularly remarkable.” She scoffs as he begins circling her, a tactic supposed to drive the prisoner into panic at the lack of vision of their assailant. Her heart doesn’t stutter. She’s trained to identify people and objects by sound not sight. She knows precisely where he is, even if she can’t see him. “So, what makes you interesting enough for the Bastard to keep so close?”

She grins, feral and with bloodstained teeth.

“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”

His face does not change but his step falters. “You cannot believe me stupid enough to fall for that.”

“You were stupid enough to tie my wrists with handcuffs,” is all she replies before dislocating her own thumbs and releasing herself from the shackles.

She hits the floor hard, body swaying for a second. Her hands are numb, nerve endings frayed. It hits her, now that she has to keep herself outfight, just how much blood she’s lost. The edges of her vision blur.

There’s a cut on her thigh, it bleeds heavily. Her back is all flayed skin. Breathing is hard.

It doesn’t matter. She only needs four fingers and half a mind to hold and use a dagger. She shakes the dizziness off.

He comes at her, but she’s expecting that. Sidestepping him is easy, kicking him in the back as he passes by even more so.

“You’re not much without your friends and a syringe full of drugs, are you?” she stumbles a little as she taunts him. Time is not on her side, she knows this. He’s cut deep in her arms and legs, no major artery touched, but with precision to give her a slow and prolonged death. She’s been steadily bleeding for hours.

(Y/N) has to end this. Soon.

He comes for her again, and she dodges, punching him right in the gut. He feigns left and she moves away, noticing too late the fist that impacts with the right side of her face. Despite the pain, she manages to stomp his toes and slam her knee against his balls.

That does it.

A high whimper leaves his mouth and as he struggles for air, she backs up. Keeping her eyes on him, her right arm reaches back to the toolbox. She knows what she’s grasped as soon as her fingers graze it.

“Say hi to your brother for me.”

The scalpel lodges itself right on his carotid artery.

“Nice,” she mumbles in delirium as she hears him choke to death. It’d been a majestic throw.

The adrenaline is gone in a second. (Y/N) stumbles backwards, barely aware of all the tools scattering around in the floor. She lets herself rest against the wall, slowly sitting down on the floor.

She’s going to die.

It doesn’t matter that she’s managed to get rid of that poor excuse of a man. She’s too injured. She knows.

(Y/N) isn’t scared. She’s tangled with Death for a long time, and as cold begins to creep in and the edges of her vision blacken, it feels like welcoming an old friend. It feels like getting what she has always had coming for her.

The tips of her fingers begin to tingle, her body’s desperate effort at keeping her heart pumping. Her ears are ringing, hard enough that when shouts begin all that she can hear are muffled sounds.

Then someone’s touching her face. She greets the warmth.

“Fuck,” she hears as she tumbles forward, her forehead landing on a collarbone. Jesper grasps the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. At least, she thinks it’s him. Her brain feels mushy, but her nose has never failed her, and it smells like gunpowder and mint.

She’s laid down on the ground gently, probably to inspect her injuries before moving her.

“You’re going to be okay,” the Sharpshooter reassures her, but his voice is trembling. He’s scared. She must look worse than she feels, and she feels like she’s been attacked by a group of Heartrenders.

She wants to speak, to tell him it’s okay, but opening her mouth feels like an impossible task.

“Save your energy.” That’s Kaz. His voice is steady, but she can feel the underlying tension, the worry in his words. “You are not dying tonight.” And he says it with so much conviction, like he would hold her soul with his own hands to keep it anchored to her body, like he would keep her heart beating with pure willpower.

Her eyes look for him, but she catches sight of something else entirely.

“You’re wearing it.”

She must make no sense, words slurred, but Kaz understands. His whispered words are the last thing she hears before slipping out of consciousness.

“How couldn’t I?”

Then there’s nothing. She loses track of time. She comes back to her body from time to time, able to hear words but incapable of pinpointing the speaker. She’s floating, but there’s pain and aching.

“…too much blood, I don’t know…”

“…keep her alive.”

“I am trying!”

“Don’t try, do it.”

“…punctured lung, broken ribs…”

“…don’t know how she’s still alive.”

When she comes to the first thing that she feels is blinding pain. Everything hurts. Her muscles complain as she sits up. She clenches her jaw to keep the tears at bay. The worst is already over, she will not cry.

“Don’t move,” (Y/N) freezes at the command, her head snapping towards the voice. “Nina stitched you back together, I doubt she would be very happy to see all her hard work ruined.”

She gently eases herself back on the bed, fingertips running over her bandaged stomach. She can feel the edges of the stitches poking through it. It must’ve been bad, then, if she required stitches to keep the wound together. Usually, she’s a fast healer, a result of all the training she’d gone through.

“How long?” Her voice is raspy after not being used. Her throat hurts, which might be related to the way she was choked to the verge of unconsciousness several times while held hostage.

“Four nights.”

Bad then.

(Y/N) can feel Kaz’s eyes on her, assessing. She meets his stare, and it’s when she’s looking at him that a vague memory comes back.

Her eyes drift down to his wrist.

The twin bracelet to her own, the one she keeps tightly wrapped around her wrist, as if part of her own skin, greets her.

“You are wearing it.”

Kaz frowns in confusion, until he follows her line of sight. He looks away, hand clenching and unclenching over the head of his cane.

“Even after almost dying you’re still insufferable,” he responds.

But when he looks back at her, (Y/N) can see everything in his eyes.

How could I not, he’d said, and he’d meant it. If friendship was something that could bloom in a wretched place like Ketterdam, Kaz was her best friend and she was his, even if they’d never discussed it, even if they would never admit it. You’re the steady order to my unrelenting chaos, she thought to herself, someone I would follow to the end of the world.

He nods, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her.

“Rest.” That’s an order, one she has no intention of disobeying.

“Sure thing,” she responds as Kaz makes his way towards the door, “bestie.”

(Y/N) can feel the amusement in his words, “Absolutely insufferable.”

She smirks, toying with the ends of the bracelet’s strings.

(Y/N) never takes it off. Neither does Kaz.

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