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legends-of-apex · 11 months

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It’s Done | Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

Rating: 18+ for smut

Word count: 2,3k

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

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

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

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

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

“So have me.”

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

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

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, please.”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want you gently.”

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

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

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

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

“Saints, look at you.”

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

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

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

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

"My name. Say it,” he gritted out.

“Kaz!”

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

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

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

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

“Please!”

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

“More, Kaz. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

"More! Please, I want to come!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me how it feels." He ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

Saints, he needed that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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legends-of-apex · 1 year

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Gashes To Gashes | Robbie Reyes x Reader

Rating: T (for non-sexual intimacy, undressing, mentions of injury, tooth rotting fluff, mild spoilers for AoS S4)

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Robbie comes home one night and finds you already asleep on the couch. He decides he can’t sleep without you and takes matters into his own hands. Reader is gender neutral, no use of y/n

A/N: I miss him so much okay 🤧 I know there’s not a big audience for him or anything but someone’s gotta feed the few that are here! Enjoy <3

When he found you sleeping on the couch, the clothes you were wearing that morning still draped over your form and crumpled, he knew you’d had a bad day. Usually you’d be changed into pyjamas or one of his shirts by now. Although it was well past midnight, you were usually still very much awake when he came through the front door. But here you were, fast asleep on the couch in your daytime clothes. It was an adorable sight.

Two empty plates cluttered the coffee table in front of you. He knew there would be a cellophane-covered plate for him sitting on the kitchen table too if he cared to look. But he couldn’t have cared less about food right now.

Robbie hadn’t been home yet that day. Instead he heeded the Rider’s demands and went out on the hunt from the moment he finished work. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door next to yours and Gabe’s. As the jacket slipped from his tired shoulders, the stress of the day did too.

Now, finally, he was home.

In the darkness, he relied on the deeply embedded memory of the house's layout to stop himself from bumping into anything. So many night sneaking out from beneath his uncle’s nose as a teen had prepared him for this. He knew each floorboard that creaked, each piece of furniture he might stub his toe on. All of this too avoid rousing you or his little brother from slumber.

He risked waking Gabe just to make sure he was alright. He twisted the bedroom door handle and let it open just a crack, there he saw his baby brother content and sleeping soundly. Golden street light streamed through the blinds and illuminated his soft face and the floppy hair that rustled in the breeze of his sleeping breath. His wheelchair sat at the bedside, piled high with school books he must’ve cleared from his bed in a rush of sudden drowsiness. Content, he closed the door behind him with a soft click and then turned his attention back to you.

He was glad you hadn’t waited up. He didn’t want you losing sleep over him. But the position and clothes you were in had to be uncomfortable. You’d definitely wake up cold and with a sore neck if he just left you there draped over the couch cushions. That’s what he told himself to justify gathering you into his arms and carrying you through to bed. In reality, he just couldn’t sleep without you - without knowing you were there beside him and safe.

Your very presence was a comfort and an anchor to him and he knew he’d miss you too much to sleep, even if you were just in the next room. He would never forget just how cold the sheets felt after the first night you’d spent there in his bed all wrapped up in his arms. It wasn’t just the company of another that he adored but also the way you snuggled into him like a stray cat to a rug beneath a roaring fire. Your soft touches were fresh air to him. The next night he spent alone, his bed suddenly felt too big, too empty and so painfully cold. Since then, he’s never been able to sleep well without you and despised the thought of even having to try.

“Robbie?” You croaked, feeling that distinct, unmistakable warmth radiating from him and seeping into your skin. “You okay?”

You stirred just as he pushed the bedroom door open - awakened by the hinge’s unoiled creak. After bringing a curled fist to rub your eyes, it was impossible to distinguish his features in the darkness but you knew him by his demeanour and touch alone. No one else you’d ever met smelled so distinctly like ash and motor oil or moved like he carried the weight of a thousand struggles on his back. No one else felt like home the way that Robbie did to you.

“Yeah, baby, I’m alright… better now I’m with you. Are you alright?” He answered softly with a press of his lips to your forehead followed by the gentle scrape of the hair on his upper lip. When you made a sound of disgruntlement at his question, he faltered, “Long day?”

“Longest I’ve had in a while. Can’t believe I fell asleep before you got home.” Usually your worry kept you up more than anything else. No matter how many times he came home in one piece you always worried.

“Lemme kiss it better then we’ll get you back to sleep, huh?” He set you down on the mattress and you yawned as soon as your back knew the plush mattress below.

You hummed. “I should probably get out of these clothes first.”

“I can help with that.”

He started with your shirt. Each undone plastic button exposed a fresh inch of your skin to the cool night air as he went. He let his eyes close as his warm lips pressed against your bare shoulder, the base of your neck, then the centre of your chest. His lips were void of all except appreciation and care. You laughed quietly as he undressed you so gently. Usually Robbie shimmying off your trousers meant an entirely different ordeal to this. But tonight he was just trying to get you comfortable enough to be able to rest with him.

He barely bothered kicking off his own trousers before getting into bed, much more concerned with wrapping his hoodie around your shoulders when he felt your slight shiver. He lay down beside you and in the dark you reached for him immediately, to feel his warm skin on yours. His arm wound around your waist then curled up your back to press you close to him. You found his cheek and he leaned into that precious, treasured touch. Being home with your hands on him after a night letting the Rider take over was the best medicine he could ever ask for. He thought it was more than he deserved.

“Mmhmm. I missed you.” You threw your arms around his shoulders and hugged his head close to your chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, enjoying your embrace for a moment. You tried to enjoy it too but as you swiped your thumb over his cheek you felt the unmistakable raised and bumpy ridge of a gash entrenched into his skin.

“What’s this?” You questioned.

“It’s nothing, baby. Let’s just get you back to sleep.” His hand covered yours, turning your palm to press a single chaste kiss to it.

He needed so desperately to calm your worries but he should’ve known that wouldn’t work. Tiredness radiated off him in droves; It thickened his voice and weighed down his limbs. He just wanted to let the mattress swallow him whole, to rest here with you forever, but you had to know he was alright.

“Robbie…” your voice held a tinge of warning.

He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t let it slide and he couldn’t blame you for that. If you came home with so much as a scratch on you he’d want names and addresses - and that was even before he was possessed by a spirit of vengeance. His stomach knotted at the memory of Quake only a few hours ago. How she’d all but begged him to kill her but the Rider didn’t seem to think she deserved to pay her penance just yet. “Some powered chick was snooping around Canello’s looking for the charger. We had a uh…disagreement, and she punched me in the face.”

You broke out of his grasp and flicked the bedside lamp on to get a better look. Harsh light flooded the room and you both winced at the sudden brightness but the irritation at the bright light was soon replaced with worry. “She did that? With one punch?” You asked, examining his battered cheek.

It was just a small gash with some bruising surrounding it. Nothing to worry about, really. But the fact that it had yet to heal was strange and more than a little concerning. Robbie bleeds just like anybody else but the blood he came home covered in wasn’t ever usually his own thanks to how quickly the demon heals him. That woman must’ve packed one hell of a punch. It was nothing like you’d ever seen him recovering from before. You had yet to see a scratch on him that wouldn’t fade within an hour until now.

“Yeah, she was strong. But vida, you should go back to sleep. It’s late. You don’t ever gotta worry about me.” He's whispering so as not to startle you any more, thumb running over your chin as he looks up at you with his deep, endless brown eyes that almost pleaded with you to believe him.

"I always worry about you,” you replied honestly. Because of course you did, how couldn’t you? He might have been invulnerable by any reasonable standard but you dreaded the day he encountered something that the Rider couldn’t heal. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?"

Robbie swallowed thickly and shook his head before telling you something that almost made your eyes water.

"Nah. Just you."

All he wanted was you here in his arms and in his bed. With the softness and desperation in his eyes, you believed him. You flicked off the bedside lamp and settled back down in his arms. He thumbed your hip and tugged you closer with a touch so soft for such well-worked hands. You all but melted into him, into his chest, into the faint smell of burn and blood, and the comfort that he brought.

You let your hand rest on his chest as you often did. It was a sweet habit of yours, one which Robbie loved. But tonight things were a little different. You slid your hand down the soft burgundy cotton of his shirt before letting your fingers dive beneath the hem and graze just above his belly button. Your palm splayed out, rising with each slow breath he took. He wasn’t sure what comfort you derived from touching him like that but the touch grounded him, brought him back to Earth again from wherever he was floating that night, untethered. He needed your skin on his as tree roots needed soil and sunlight. That touch made him feel human again, like maybe the weight he carried wasn’t so heavy after all.

Robbie Reyes tag list:

@icy-spicy

I’ve lost the rest of the tag list for him yall I’m so sorry 😭 Please let me know if you’d like to be added!!

#robbie reyes #robbie reyes x reader #ghost rider #ghost rider x reader #AoS #agents of shield #marvel #fic #fluff #mywriting #mine

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