#shadow and bone fanfiction

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hysteria

kinktober, day twenty-eight

a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.

summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation

word count: 1607

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

“I-I do?” 

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”

Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”

“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”

“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”

“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”

“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”

Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover. 

Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so. 

“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.” 

As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.  

Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath. 

“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in. 

Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing. 

Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?” 

Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”

“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”

“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.

As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”

“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you. 

“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.  

Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”

Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”

“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into. 

The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”

“You wanna get better, don’t you?”

Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”

“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”

“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf. 

“Be a good girl and take it.”

When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream. 

“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew. 

Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”

Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with. 

“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter. 

Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.

“Ah!”

“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”

Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall. 

“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear. 

When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum. 

Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you. 

“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”

Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[jazzythursday]

Wylan leaves in the morning.

He doesn’t plan to, not exactly, but he definitely doesn’t plan on staying, either.

Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go.

Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time.

He has a good time, for the most part, and it’s always a welcome break from the awful chemical smell burned into the Tannery or the staleness of the empty rooms in cheap boarding houses (when he can afford them) that Wylan is used to. Wylan likes the freedom that comes with it, too. It’s liberating to go where he wants and do what he pleases; to not worry about who he’s seen with or sleeps with or what they might think of him after. And he likes feeling wanted, for a little while. He likes being reminded that he exists.

So Wylan does not make a habit of falling asleep with the people who take him to bed.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.

He doesn't remember, and yet, Wylan wakes up with his head pillowed on Jesper’s chest. With Jesper’s arm draped over him. His breath is warm where it ghosts over the top of his hair, and if Wylan glances up he can see the way Jesper’s mouth— those lips— fall open in sleep.

It’s the best morning he’s had in months, possibly. Certainly the most comfortable.

He knows it can’t last.

Wylan looks at Jesper, still sleeping peacefully next to him, and he panics.

He’d woken up in Jesper Fahey’s arms.

He’d slept with Jesper Fahey.

Jesper has a reputation, and Wylan knows it, even new to the Barrel as he is. He’d heard about Dirtyhand’s second and resident sharpshooter plenty— Can’t resist a gamble, never misses a shot, and not just with bullets. Jesper Fahey is an excellent marksman, they say, with terrible luck with the cards, and a soft spot for pretty girls and even prettier boys.

Jesper’s played the field— multiple fields— went on a seismic world tour of fields.

Wylan is very good at not being noticed. He’s also very good at listening. People tend to look past him, they never pay any mind to the too skinny boy with the wild hair and the hunched shoulders and the grime that never seems to wash off completely after his long shifts at the Tannery. Wylan knows this, knows he’s very adept at being able to disappear, when he needs to.

So by the time Wylan actually meets Jesper, he’s well aware of his place in Ketterdam’s booming rumor mill. Jesper has many, and Wylan thinks by now he may have heard them all.

And yet, none of them do a thing to prepare him for Jesper.

They’d met in a tavern.

Wylan had been nursing his drink for the better half of an hour, trying to come up with reasons not to go back to the sad cot he had waiting for him in a rented room, with the only window overlooking the brick wall of a dark alley.

So far, he’d only come up with the one.

Wylan had seen the tall Zemeni man from across the room and hadn’t stopped looking since. He was flirting with a girl at the bar, twirling one of his guns in one hand demonstratively with a drink in the other. The girl— a curly haired blond— was giggling, hand pressed to her mouth with eyes that had very clear and direct intentions.

Wylan had almost resolved himself to a night of wasting the few kruge at his disposal with little to show for it, when the man had looked up and caught him staring. The man had smiled, twirling his gun with an extra flourish and then tipped his hat. Wylan smiled back, and gave a little wave. Embarrassing, He’d thought, stop it, he’s already with someone else anyway. He’d looked down, and stared at the near empty contents of his drink until someone sat down next to him and said, in a voice like apple butter and sweet syrup, “Can I get you another of those?”

Then Wylan had looked up into the eyes of the handsomest man he’d ever seen, and thought, he has the most perfect lips.

Out loud, he’d said, “I, uh, well—” His mouth was wide open, he’d realised, and shut it quickly. Again, the man had smiled. Again, Wylan had smiled back. “Yes, please.”

And that's how he’d met Jesper.

Afterwards, they’d stumbled through the streets— I know a place, Jesper said, If you want to take this somewhere more private— until they’d passed a corner where a vendor was selling traditional Kerch sweets out of a cart.

“Stroopwafels!” Jesper had stopped. “I love stroopwafels!”

Wylan was tugging him toward the cart without really making a conscious decision to move, and Jesper had laughed, surprised and delighted.

Wylan bought them both stroopwafels and handed Jesper his with a shy smile and a shrug. “For the drink.”

Jesper looked at him consideringly, head caulked to the side, and Wylan felt himself blushing in the low light of the lamps. “You’re sweet,” he’d said eventually.

“Is that bad?” Wylan had asked, sheepish. Jesper was already shaking his head.

“It’s good. Just not that many sweet things to be had in the Barrel. It’s refreshing.” He’d bit off a piece of one of the waffles and smiled. “These are sweet too,”— he’d leaned in, smile still earnest but with something decidedly different underneath— “I like sweet.”

Jesper had not touched him like he’d been expecting to be touched. Jesper made no assumptions; he’d asked, about everything, in a way that was near gentlemanly if it wasn’t for the fact that he radiated trouble through his pores. Jesper was— not quite gentle, because Wylan had expected hot and heady and everything deep, and Jesper was all of that and more— but he wasn’t rough. He didn’t bruise, not if Wylan didn’t say yes first, and afterwards he’d laid back down and settled Wylan into his arms in a way that he had no real way of protesting— didn’t want to protest, anyway— and kissed him.

It was that that had scared Wylan the most, he thinks. Because Wylan is rarely kissed for the express purpose of it. It was always the promise of more— the rush of what was to come. But people do not generally tend to kiss Wylan for the sake of kissing Wylan. It’s different. Jesper is different, and Wylan can’t afford to be stupid enough to do something like get attached. Can’t afford much at all— really.

But Jesper had kissed him, pleased and lazy and warm, and at some indeterminate time later they had both apparently fallen asleep.

And it was nice.

It was too nice. It hurt with how nice it was.

Wylan peels himself slowly out of Jesper’s arms, careful not to wake him, and decides then that he cannot stand to be here any longer.

Jesper Fahey is not what he’d expected, he’s better.

Jesper Fahey is lovely, and beautiful, and kinder to him than anyone has been to Wylan for almost as long as he can remember.

Jesper Fahey is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he isn’t going to stick around for someone like Wylan.

So Wylan leaves, and he doesn’t look behind him as he closes the door.

[undiscovered-horizon]

In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.

Almost.

The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.

“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.

Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”

“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”

It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”

“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.

“I find it quite admirable.”

Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.

“Excuse me?” you stutter out.

That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”

“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.

Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.

“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”

The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.

“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.

The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”

Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.

His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”

A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."

To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.

The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.

Outside. You need to get outside.

Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer. 

With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.

Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.

“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”

“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”

You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.

“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”

Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.

“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”

“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”

A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.

“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.

“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”

Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”

When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.

Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.

His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:

“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.

Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”

“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.

Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:

“You know her.”

Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?

But for now, he needs to stay focused. 

“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”

Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”

“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”

Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.

Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.

“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”

Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.

Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.

You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.

Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.

“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.

Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.

You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?

Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.

He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.

The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”

“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.

“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”

You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”

Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.

“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”

Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’)  but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.

The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.

Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.

A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”

“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”

You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”

“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”

You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”

Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”

“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”

“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”

“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”

Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"

You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."

Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”

“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”

His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”

"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"

"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."

"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."

That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”

As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.

“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”

It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?

“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.

“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.

Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.

A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”

“Gross.”

“You wanted a frisky sailor.”

"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”

"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.

"Pirate sounds sexier."

Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."

Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time. 

He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.

“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.

“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”

You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:

“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”

“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”

He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”

Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.

You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”

“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”

“I don’t think Alina heard you.”

His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”

“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.

Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.

зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)

солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)

[redamancyys]

Three Moments - Kaz Brekker

SUMMARY ◆ Three moments in which Kaz shows his love for you.

WARNING(S) ◆ fluff, implied smut, unedited, me word vomiting.

WORDS ◆ 2k

»»————-　✼　————-««

You were certain that you were always meant to burn together. To love him was to love the hot embers of a forest fire, pressing your hands farther and farther into the flames no matter how much your body screamed to let go. It was all consuming, a love that suffocated you like smoke and left you burning for days. He was always burning, and sometimes you wondered if you just got caught up in the flames. Heartstrings woven together, not sure if you were the anchor or he was . . . Saints, who were you kidding? He definitely was not the anchor. 

It took him a long time to understand that he needed you. 

He was the bastard of the Barrel, unafraid of getting his hands dirty because he hid under a pair of gloves. On his worst days when he came home, they were caked with dirt, dust, and blood. It wasn’t his blood, he rarely had a cut on him. Most of the times when you stayed up until he returned, he would glance in your direction, give you a small nod, and make his way up to his room at the tallest point in the Slat. The next morning he never acknowledged it. His hair was slicked back, porcelain skin perfectly clean on his face and his gloves were as well. Fine, black leather worn down on the fingertips in the same places he gripped his cane. You wondered why he never let even those closest to him see him in any way disheveled. You didn’t understand the danger of looking weak the way he did. It wasn’t your fault, no one had ever understood what he had been through. Not that they ever could know anyway.

One night you were awake once again, making an excuse that you couldn’t sleep and had to make tea, though many knew that you stayed up until all members of the Crows were back home. You sat in the corner, a favorite book in hand and sipping on some mix of tea when you heard the door open and you thought for a moment your eyes were playing tricks on you. Because there he stood, cuts on his face and parts of his shirt ripped off at the arms. He was beaten, bloody, unlike anything you had ever seen before. He stood there, looking at you, watching as you took another sip and waited for him to go up the stairs like he always did. But this time he kept standing there, watching, as if he was waiting for your attention. He glanced over at the box on the table where you all kept bandages, and then back at you. 

Soon enough you were both sitting at the table, you were reaching for the tiny bottle of alcohol and white wrap up bandages. 

“Who was it this time?” You asked, dumping a cloth in a water bowl to clean his wounds. He looked at you, as if to say, it doesn’t matter. Though you kept pressing on, your eyes peered into his coffee brown ones, eyebrow popping up in question. “I waited up for you, which means you can’t keep any secrets from me, Kaz Brekker.” 

His name seemed to pop him out of his thoughts, pushing him back to reality in which he was there, sitting with you, rather than in the future thinking about plans or in the past pondering about the people he’s lost. Kaz glanced down at his gloved hands and then turned his attention back to you, watching your face carefully. 

“Someone didn’t pay me back for a favor,” He said. “It wasn’t an easy confrontation but it’s over now.” 

That was all you needed. You knew it was all you would get right now. Empty words were his forte that no matter how long you spent trying to read in between the lines of his metaphors and hyperboles, you were left feeling more confused than how you began. It took you so long to understand that it wasn’t about what he said, it was what he did. He never told any of the members of his crew how much they mattered to him, how important it was that they stuck around. In fact, sometimes you wondered if anyone mattered to Kaz Brekker, or if he was destined to keep himself alone, closed off, coldhearted. 

Your hand with the towel came up to his face and he flinched, making you falter for a single second. You waited for him to say something, but it never did, and you finished your motion by slowly wiping away the dried blood from the cut on his face. It wasn’t deep, it wouldn’t scar, and for some reason that made you glad. He would still look pristine in the morning, with a little help from you. You wondered if this is what he did alone in his room when he came back, healed wounds that never saw the light of day. Some part of you wished that he would show this side of him more often, the one that was vulnerable. Both of you stayed silent while you wiped the blood away and bandaged up your arm, though soon enough he was on his way back to his room, leaving you downstairs. 

~

You two took care of each other. It took until a heist went wrong that you saw that for sure. Too many things were against the group that day. Jesper’s guns stopped working when he had to take a critical shot, Nina was almost taken hostage . . . You yourself had suffered a striking blow to the stomach, becoming winded and almost passing out from lack of oxygen. Everyone ran away, knowing to meet up later at the Crow Club when they got the opportunity. You ran into an alley, head spinning, gasping for air as you leaned against a wall. Men ran past, most likely looking for you and your partners, though were not smart enough to look down the dark alley to their right. You could barely walk, knowing that several of your ribs had to be broken. 

“You need to keep moving,” A voice spoke from behind, startling you enough to grab the gun from your belt and aim it in the direction of the voice. Your eyes caught up with your target and realized it was Kaz, able to sneak up on you because he was without his cane for the blown heist. “Guards are looking all over for us.” 

You huffed, shaking your head. You couldn’t do it. All you wanted to do was lay there until you got better, not caring about the dirt and grime on the ground. When you tried to walk it felt like someone was stabbing you in the lungs, you stumbled a little and would’ve fallen if Kaz’s hands hadn’t grabbed you and kept you upright. 

Your vision was spotty as you both stumbled out of the alley, slowly making your way back. “I can’t do this,” You said, tears welling up in your eyes. “It hurts so much, Kaz, it hurts.” You were rarely this emotive, you were the glue of the group, keeping everyone together even through the toughest of times. Everyone always came to you, you’re the strongest one of them all. Every single second you wondered if your caved in ribs would puncture one of your organs and this would be your last day. Your last time with the people you cared so much about. The world was spinning, but Kaz’s arms and touch brought you back to reality, and soon enough you were within feet of the Crow Club and you collapsed, letting the darkness consume your mind. 

It was a few hours before you woke up in your room, opening your eyes to the soft glow of a candle near your bed. The softness of your blanket gave comfort, though the moment of relief that you were alive seemed to wash away as the pain came back to reality, a bandage wrapped around your torso that impeded your motion. 

For the next couple of days you were in and out of consciousness, Inej came to visit you a lot in order to give you food and some company, sometimes Jesper would tell you about his day and about Wylan. But still no sign of Kaz. You hadn’t seen him since he had brought you back to safety. At first you thought nothing of it, though the idea that he was avoiding you began to boil and fester, leading you to question Jesper the next time he arrived in your room with tea in hand. 

“I understand that comfort isn’t his thing, but I thought that Kaz would at least come and visit once,” You stated to Jesper, sucking in your bottom lip whilst moving to sit up, minding the tiny pain in your chest. 

Jesper’s eyes widened, shaking his head a tiny bit in a way that made you think he was hiding something from you. You gave him a puzzled look, urging him to speak his thoughts to you. 

“He’s been sitting outside of your door every chance he gets. I thought you knew.”

~

His kisses were soft despite his tough exterior, but they were not without intention. Every time his lips made contact with a piece of your skin you could feel his want, his desire, like he couldn’t get enough of you no matter how hard he tried. It was like you were his church and he was on his knees, praying for forgiveness for his sins, praying to your body that he worshipped unlike all the faceless saints in the world. Your hands collided with his hair, intertwining the soft locks of dark brown and pulling on it, pulling him closer. 

He would only kiss you in the confines of the Crow Club, where others couldn’t see. It bothered you at first, wondering if he didn’t want others to see that underneath all the cold and hard exterior he put towards the world: Dirtyhands could love. But that was just the thing, he didn’t want any of his enemies to come for you like he knew that they would. He didn’t want to put you in the face of danger anymore than you already did for him on a daily basis. To love him was to have a target on your back. 

At this point you knew of his aversion to touch, how his brother died, how it pained him to feel the skin of another upon his own. Instead of pulling away from his scars like he thought you would, you brought him closer, vowing that you understood, that you were sorry, that you would do whatever you could to make him feel better. Kaz thought for so long that he was a monster, and that may be true, but you weren’t a child, you weren’t afraid of the darkness that he had enveloped himself in for so long. You were willing to love him for who he was, no matter how much he tried to hide you from his truths. 

He could handle your kisses, finding solace in your mouth, the way it tasted like warm tea and the softness of your lips. And he accepted your small touches, starting slowly with tracing your fingers across his skin. You felt along his veins, taking extra care with his scars, pressing a kiss on the ones that looked particularly new. His gloves would come off and he would do the same to you. Eventually more clothes came off, more skin against skin. He found solace again in your tiny sighs and moans that left your lips when he kissed there and there . . . and especially there. Neither of you had ever surrendered yourself to another person in this way, it was intimate and sent you both over the moon. It was just you both, alone in either of your rooms, loving each other no matter what. 

After both of you would lay in one another's arms, the glow of the candlelight enveloping both of your bodies. There wasn’t much talking, maybe some if there was something particularly on either of your minds. You idly traced patterns on his skin, comforting him when he flinched, reminding him that you were there. He would be okay. 

[hottpinkpenguin]

okay okay but that prompt “give me something to dream about” with steamy/fluff nikolai? yes please

A/n: hear you go anon! Hope you love it. Nikolai is SOO easy to write for!! ♥️

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1622 | Warnings: steam, angst

You watched Alina Starkov’s long, dark hair swish from side to side as she stormed off from Nikolai’s side with an indignant huff. Stupid girl, you thought to yourself as you watched her stomp out of his private map room. You ducked out of the dimly lit doorway that the palace servants used as the girl everyone called a Saint spluttered past you without a backwards glance. She was small in person: short and slender with a youthful face. Pretty, but not beautiful. She had grit, you couldn’t deny her that. Maybe in a different world, and if she hadn’t just been proposed to by the love of your life, you would have been friends.

The door to Nikolai’s map room closed loudly. Not quite a slam, but Alina used just enough force to convey her displeasure. Plunged into quiet, you peeped around the corner at your prince. He was standing opposite the table, leaning on it with his hands splayed along its surface and his head hanging in defeat. For a brief moment, you wondered if he wanted to see you tonight.

“Show’s over, Tiger. You can come out now.”

You shot Nikolai a pouty glare as you came out from your hiding place. You knew he’d known you were there, although you felt sheepish to be caught.

“Come here.” He gestured for you. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but also a note of eagerness. He needed you. His usually pristine military jacket was unbuttoned, and in the soft candlelight you could see a sliver of his chest peaking out above the neckline of his white linen undershirt. He raked a hand through his hair, knocking loose a few pieces that fell haphazardly over his brow. You swallowed, suddenly your mind buzzing at the sight of him. If Alina Starkov was a Saint, then Nikolai Lantsov was a goddamn angel.

“How’d it go, Pirate Prince?” You shot Nikolai a flirty smile, winking at him and using the nickname you knew he hated. You tried to keep your tone light to hide the fact that your chest felt like it was a fraction of an inch from caving on itself.

He grimaced at you, stepping around the large table with war maps and heavy tomes of Ravkan history sprawled across its surface. With strong, sure arms he swept you up into a rib crushing embrace, spinning you around and burying his head in your hair.

“Swimmingly,” he replied gruffly. “She almost smacked me.”

You laughed in spite of yourself. You’d not-so-secretly been hoping that Nikolai wouldn’t follow through on his plan to propose marriage to Alina Starkov. No matter how many times he promised you that the proposal was just a calculated political move, you’d never be anything but bitter. You knew Nikolai too well to seriously convince yourself that he would balk at the last moment, especially when the fate of his country lay in jeopardy, even if his heart did lie with you. But that hadn’t kept you from dreaming, hoping against hope.

He must have caught the flicker of sorrow in your eyes. He released you from his arms, hooking a thumb under your chin and gently lifting your face until he held your gaze.

“You know this isn’t what I want, Tiger.” His voice was low, smooth as silk, and devastatingly sincere.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t argue with him, not again. Not over this. Who knew how long you had to be relatively free with your affections for him. Even though the two of you kept your romance private, that was purely a matter of preference. If (when, you forcibly corrected yourself) Nikolai actually married Alina, you’d have to take extra care to avoid being detected. Maybe to the point of going your separate ways indefinitely. You refused to waste what precious little time you had left bickering over an inevitable.

You tried to push that darkness out of your mind, forcing a gentle smile onto your face. Nikolai’s snow-blue eyes danced at the sight.

“I know, Nikki,” you replied softly. He chuckled, recognizing the pet name you used only when the two of you were alone. You felt his hand press against your lower back, pulling you in closer. You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, eagerly meeting his lips with yours. His mouth was warm and soft, the feel of him so familiar. The kiss was quick - tender with a hint of the playfulness you were both using to glaze over the deeper hurts. But it was delicious all the same. You let yourself enjoy it, twining your hands in the soft hair at the back of his neck and dancing your tongue along his bottom lip. He smiled against you, one hand cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss. You let him, for a moment, before you pulled back. You were teasing him, admittedly, and you could see it in the feral desire burning in his eyes.

“Saints be damned,” he muttered breathlessly, raking his gaze all over you. “You’re going to drive me mad, woman.”

You laughed, tipping your head back as a shiver ran up your spine at the gravel in his voice. Nikolai tucked his head against your exposed throat, laying down a line of featherlight kisses up under your jawline and towards your ear. When he reached your ear, he paused, nuzzling you gently. You ran your fingernails down from his hairline along the back of his neck and out across his broad shoulders. You felt his muscles release under your touch as he exhaled deeply.

“You need a warm bath, my Lord,” you informed him, kneading his shoulders to emphasize the tightness there. He groaned appreciatively at the sensation.

“That sounds nice,” he admitted, pulling back slightly and resting his hands on your hips. “But only if you join me.”

That mischievous glint in his eyes drove you absolutely wild. You could feel a warm jolt of desire begin to burn in your core. Nikolai sensed it somehow, smirking as if he could feel your lust. Something about the way he was devouring you with his eyes made you pause. You knew that, in a few more moments, you’d be lost to his touch and completely senseless with bliss. He knew it too, and he was hungry for it. You both were. But first, you had something to say.

“I won’t be your mistress, Nikolai. When you marry her. I love you, but I can’t do that to myself. To either of us.”

Your words were heavy, but your tone was soft. Almost apologetic.

You felt him momentarily wind down at the seriousness in your voice. The playful smirk melted from his face, leaving behind a somber sadness. He fiddled with the ruffles on your dress’ neckline for a few moments, both of you quiet as he processed your statement. He wasn’t surprised. Nikolai knew you better than anyone. You’d asked him once why it was that he understood you so clearly. We have mirror image souls, he’d said back as if it were the simplest answer in the world. From that moment on, you’d never doubted him.

“I know, Tiger.” His voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. “I don’t think I could bear it if you did.”

You lifted your eyes to him, trying to memorize the way his face looked in the candlelight. He returned your gaze calmly, and you had the sense he was trying to commit the moment to memory just like you were.

After a few moments, you smiled, forcing yourself to loosen the internal grip you had on the heartbreak you knew was coming. He’s not married now, you reminded yourself. Your fingertips traced up his arms until your hands framed his face.

“Now, let’s get back to that bath.”

He grinned, lifting you from the hips until your legs were wrapped around his waist. He clasped you against him, your hands wrapped around his neck as he carried you out of the private map room and back towards the door that connected to his sleeping quarters. He turned around briefly to close the door behind him, shutting out the worries of the future in the process.

He let you slide out of his grasp when he entered the bathroom. Even through your house slippers, the tile floor was cool underfoot. He leaned down, opening the faucets over the large bathtub. Water came cascading out, splashing into the empty tub as he stoppered the drain. He tested the water temperature with his hands as you began untying the lacings on your bodice.

He turned back to you once the water was to his liking, watching your every movement with a greedy glint in his eyes. Once you’d stripped down to your skin, you stepped over to him and helped him slide his jacket off. It fell to the ground with a metallic ting as the medals adorning the jacket’s chest clinked on the marble floor. You started unlacing his undershirt when he reached up, grabbing your hands in his. He tilted his head slightly downward, pouring into your eyes with his own.

“A request, Tiger,” he drawled. You smirked as you continued to undo his shirt.

“Anything, my Prince.” He laughed at your reply, leaning in even further until he was so close you could feel his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Give me something to dream about.”

You leaned in, meeting his kiss, your body ablaze with the intensity of his words. You wanted to make sure that Nikolai Lantsov, the first and maybe only love of your life, didn’t need to ask you twice…

[crvptidgf]

Whipped

Kaz Brekker x Reader

➸ summary: just as you start to think that Kaz is incapable of basic human decency, he proves you wrong (in his own, Kaz-like way)

➸ warnings/notes: none

word count: 1.2k

————————

ONE THING YOU quickly learned about Kaz was that he never showed outward emotion. In fact, sometimes you weren’t too sure he even felt any at all. That was what everybody said - Kaz was robotic in the way he interacted with people, hardly sparing a thought on the well-being or opinions of others.

While it wasn’t far off the truth, you knew there had to be more to him than a void machine with no care for anybody but himself. He was still, after all, human (despite what anybody else might say).

It wasn’t without reason that he gained his infamous aliases. Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, Demjin. That’s why it surprised you when you started getting nervous around him. Not the kind of nervous that most people felt with Kaz, but more like a stupid, naïve school-girl kind of nervous. Why? You could probably name a million reasons.

Putting aside all that he has done and all that he is, Kaz was genuine. Perhaps not like how Jesper and Inej were - and sure, he didn’t have the softness that Nina held, or the undying open affection that Matthias bared for his lover, or even the sweet, lovable awkwardness that Wylan had. He was, however, intriguing in his own way.

He was brutally loyal to those he deemed worthy; his mind worked unlike anyone else you had met; and he never, ever, took shit from anyone - no matter if it was a stranger off the street or one of his Crows. Not to mention that he always seemed to be 2 steps ahead of his foes, which was something you admired greatly. These special qualities made him who he is and you couldn’t help but fall for his cold and calculating personality.

There was always a wall separating him from being honest with people, his lack of trust and need to be in control too strong to ever let up. Yet bit by bit (or brick by brick) his shell started to gather cracks and crevices in the shape of you.

You had somehow wormed your way into his icy heart. Of course he would never dare admit it to himself, much less say it out loud, but deep down he knew. And he hated it.

He hated that he remembered your favorite color. He hated that he knew exactly how you liked your tea in the mornings. Most of all, he absolutely loathed the fact that you, out of anybody he has ever encountered, managed to become his biggest weakness.

Kaz always prided himself on his nonchalant façade. Nobody could ever read what was going on inside his mind and he worked hard to keep it that way. Until you came along. Until you wrung and twisted his insides until he couldn’t take it anymore - the thoughts of you so polluted in his mind that he couldn’t help but chastise his childish behavior.

He wasn’t a boy anymore. He didn’t have crushes (although what he felt for you was a little more than a measly crush).

All of this to say that, when he saw the small smile that tugged on the corner of your lips whenever he did something thoughtful for you, he actually found that he didn’t mind being reduced to a mindless, clueless idiot around you. He actually realized that he liked making you happy. This epiphany scared him. But if tossing and turning at night, his mind completely overtaken by you, meant that he could see your grin light up the room just one more time, he could live with it.

You, on the other hand, had no idea of his inner turmoil. Yeah you knew he was a bit gentler when you were around (not by much, you noted), but that could be for a multitude of reasons. Surely Kaz Brekker, the notorious Dirtyhands, didn’t take a fancy to you of all people. Right?

These thoughts were however thrown from your mind when you awoke to your floorboards creaking, the sound alerting your fight or flight response. Constantly being in imminent danger does that to a person. You can never be too sure when death would knock on your door.

Yet when you slowly reached your hand under your pillow for your dagger (a gift that Inej had graced you with on your first birthday at the Crow Club), a voice stopped you from your worries.

“It’s just me. No need for any violence so early in the morning.”

Turning in your small but cozy bed, you were met with a somewhat startled looking Kaz. He wasn’t expecting you to wake up - he should’ve forseen this. Saints, he was losing his game. He always did when it came to you.

“Oh,” you replied simply. “Did you need something?”

Kaz’s lips formed into a line, something in his hand shuffling as he mulled over his thoughts. He should leave, he thought. But he didn’t. Instead he stood at the foot of your bed like a total creep, his eyes traveling over your face so quickly that you almost missed it.

“Breakfast,” he said, throwing the bag that he previously toyed with in his hand.

It landed with a soft thud on your bed, the brown paper almost unfolding as it reached your knee. Picking it up slowly, you looked towards Kaz for any indication of what it was. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was inside.

It was a sugar-roll. Something you had been craving for months, but could never seem to get your hands on. There was only one bakery in the Barrel that sold these, and it was on the complete other side of the city.

“How did you- Where-“ you stumbled over your words, utterly struck by surprise.

Kaz spun his cane in his hand, the crow's head glinting in the sunlight that peeked from your window.

You never thought you would see the day, but he hesitated before answering.

“Had some business to attend to. I just happened to walk by that bakery that you’re always harping on about.”

So he did listen to your meaningless rants. Nina had mentioned the bakery a while back, and you and her bonded over your shared enjoyment of the confectioneries that they sold. You didn’t think Kaz actually heard it, much less remembered what your favorite pastry was.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

Kaz nodded, retreating backwards as he responded. “Hopefully now you’ll stop bugging me about that stupid roll of yours,” he said.

While his words were harsh, you could see the glint in his eyes as he spotted your excited expression, your hands pulling the doughy goodness out of its bag. In his own backwards way, Kaz was as whipped as somebody like him could get.

As he limped out of your room, the comfort of your presence leaving him, he spotted Jesper outside the door, smirking.

“What,” Kaz snapped.

“You just happened to walk by?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, sighing. He continued to walk, ignoring Jesper’s attempts to annoy the man.

“That bakery is at least 30 minutes away,” he stifled a laugh, “you need to think up better lies, boss.”

“Tell anyone and you’ll never see your guns again,” Kaz said, knowing there was no point in lying any more. He cast a backwards glance at his friend, who immediately put his hands up in defense.

Jesper smiled to himself as he was finally left alone upstairs. He was going to have so much fun taunting that over Kaz's head in the next few weeks.

The Bastard of the Barrel - whipped.

[thebadgerclan]

Misinformed

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: You had no idea it was meant to feel good...

Smut!

The ceremony had been lovely, the reception had lasted into the early hours of the morning, and through it all, Nikolai hadn’t left your side once.  Nikolai Lantsov, your new husband, the man you’d fallen hard and fast for, the man who had proved his love and devotion to you dozens of times over.  Your marriage was a love match, a true fairy tale: you, the daughter of a Count, presented to court to make a good marriage, had caught the eye of the King, sealing your and your family’s positions forevermore.

And you loved him, oh, how you loved him!  Of course you’d have said yes to his proposal, what fool would reject marriage to a King?  But when Nikolai asked for your hand, you said yes not because of the rise in station, not because of the boon it would grant your family, but because you were irrevocably in love with Nikolai Lantsov.  And now you were Queen, elevated above all others, but you would have said “yes” if he were a simple farmer.

Your husband kept your hand clasped in his as he led you from the ballroom, a giddy smile on his face.  When the two of you were sequestered in your chambers, Nikolai pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply, your body pressed flush to his.  “I love you,” he said against your lips.  “My Y/N, my Queen, my bride, I love you.”  It was all you could do to remain upright as he kissed you, dizzy from his affections.

As Nikolai’s hands traveled to the lacings of your gown, you began to feel warm, and when his lips tracked down to your jaw and neck, you felt your stomach twist.  All Saints, please don’t let me be sick on my wedding night, you thought.  You were an educated lady, you knew what was to happen tonight, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous.  And the advice your mother had given you had been… less than helpful.

“You must lie back and endure it,” she’d said.  “But do not worry.  Your Nikolai is a good man, I do not think he will drag it out longer than he must.”  Her words filled your head, but you did your best to focus on the man in your arms, the man who was kissing his way down your neck and tugging at your dress.  “Can I take this off, lovely?” Nikolai asked, and you whispered a “yes.”

Your gown soon laid on the floor in a heap of golden silk and tulle, and Nikolai groaned at the sight before him.  You’d been dressed in a sheer slip beneath your wedding dress, your body plainly visible beneath.  “Saints, look at you,” your husband said, raking his gaze over you.  “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”  You felt your face flush, and Nikolai hurriedly stripped himself.  When he was naked, he took you in his arms once more, gently leading you to the bed.

He continued to kiss you, and the odd warm, tingling feeling in your belly continued to grow.  “Can I touch you?” Nikolai asked, and you nodded.  It was expected of you, that’s what your mother had said, it will be over soon.  Your husband trailed a hand down your side, and it felt like fire was left in the wake of his hand.  His lips were still on your neck, and slowly, Nikolai brought a hand between your legs.  When his fingers made contact, you let out a moan, a shuddering, breathy moan, and your eyes went wide.

“W-what was that?”  Immediately, Nikolai pulled away, looking at you with slight confusion.  “What was what, darling?”  “That feeling?  What was that?”  “When I touched you?”  “Yes!”  You were breathing hard, but your husband saw that you weren’t aroused, no, you were frightened.  Clearly, you’d been misinformed about tonight, or worse, not informed at all.  Nikolai rose from the bed and retrieved a dressing gown–his dressing gown–and draped it over your shoulders, sitting at your side and covering himself with the sheets.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out to take your hand.  “What…did anyone tell you what would happen tonight?”  Nikolai knew that your family held more conservative views, that you likely hadn’t been taught what sex was until just before your wedding, and he needed to be absolutely certain of what you knew.  You shook your head.  “No…well, not really.”  He squeezed your hand, encouraging you to continue.

“Most of what I know about sex, I taught myself.  I snuck into my father’s library and found books on anatomy.  My mother certainly never told me anything.  I know what sex is, and I know that it's how women have children, but when my mother pulled me aside tonight, she told me…”  You hesitated, and Nikolai squeezed your hand again.  “She told me that I must ‘lie back and endure it’.  That you’re a good man and won’t drag it out.  But Nikolai, when you kissed me, when you touched me, I felt…Saints, I felt hot, and when you touched me…there, it felt…”

You were blushing fiercely, and your husband leaned to kiss your cheek.  “Did it feel good, darling?” he asked, and you nodded.  “It’s supposed to, my love.  Sex, making love, it’s supposed to feel good.  Yes, it’s primary purpose is to have children, but people do it because it’s enjoyable.”  When you looked at your husband, your brows were raised.  “It is?”  “Yes, sweet love, it is.  And, if you want me to, I will show you just how good a man can make his wife feel.”

For a moment you were silent, and Nikolai didn’t press.  “When I felt warm earlier…”  “You were aroused, my love.  And that’s perfectly normal.”  Rather than say anything, you rose to your knees and pressed your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck.  “I want you to show me,” you whispered, letting his dressing gown slide from your shoulders.  “You do?”  “Yes.  I trust you, Nikolai.”  Your husband smiled and deepened the kiss, gently pushing you back to lay down.

“If you want to stop, just tell me,” he whispered, and resumed his kissing down your body.  The warm, tingly feeling was back, but you let it wash over you, knowing it was your beloved causing it.  “I don’t want you holding back those pretty noises,” Nikolai said, coming to lie at your side, one arm around you.  “Let me hear you.”  This time, when he touched you, you didn’t bite back the moan that left your lips, and Nikolai smiled.

“That’s it, lovely,” he praised, gently rubbing at your clit.  “Just feel it.”  In mere minutes, you were breathless, and Nikolai was kissing you, whispering praises of your beauty against your skin.  “I’m going to put my fingers inside you,” he said.  “Tell me if anything hurts.”  You nodded, and your husband slowly pressed a finger into you, thrusting it shallowly.  After several minutes, he added a second, and when he bent his fingers, you let out a loud moan, bucking your hips against his palm.

“There it is,” he said, lowering his lips to yours, kissing you deeply.  Pure bliss filled your body, pleasure that you’d never imagined, and soon, that pleasure was building into a wave that demanded to crest.   “Nikolai,” you panted.  “Nikolai, I… Saints, I–”  “Shh, I know, honey.  Just let it happen.  Come for me.”  His words were punctuated with a press of his fingers against your clit, and the wave crested.  You were moaning your husband’s name, your eyes rolling back in your head, and when you opened them, he was smiling softly at you.

“Did that feel good, angel?”  You nodded, and Nikolai slowly withdrew his fingers from your body and moved to kneel between your still spread legs.  His cock was hard and aching, and your eyes went wide.  “It won’t hurt for too long,” he vowed.  “And just for a moment.  Do you want to keep going?”  “Yes,” you breathed, reaching out for him.  “Nikolai, please, I need you.”

Your husband chuckled as he took himself in hand, aligning the head of his cock with your cunt.  “It’s alright, darling.  You don’t have to beg.  Not this time, anyway.”  Nikolai pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as he slowly entered you, pausing when you whimpered.  “I know, darling, I’m sorry.  It won’t hurt like this every time, just the first time, I promise.”  You nodded, keeping your eyes on his hazel ones, focusing on the love there.

Slowly, Nikolai pressed forward until he was completely within you, and he let out a shaking breath. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he said, and you tilted your chin to kiss him.  When you were ready, he began thrusting gently, keeping his motions slow and shallow, not wanting to overwhelm you.  “Nikolai,” you sighed, threading your hands through his hair.  “Nikolai, I…”  “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“It feels so good!”  He couldn’t help the smug pride that washed over him; he was the only man who had ever, who would ever, make you feel this way.  “I know, Y/N, I can feel you squeezing around me.”  Your husband sped up, just a bit, pulling a bit further out of you with each thrust.  He kept one hand cupping your cheek, the other trailing over your body, squeezing your breasts and kneading at your hips.  When he rubbed your clit, you bucked against him, causing him to moan.

“I love you, Y/N,” Nikolai managed, already close.  “I love you so much, my perfect wife.”  His thrusts had sped up a bit more, but you felt no discomfort.  No, you felt more pleasure than you ever could have imagined.  “Nikolai, Kolya, I…I’m…”  “I know, sweetheart.  I’m close too.  Come when you’re ready, darling.”  It didn’t take much longer, and when you came with a cry of your husband’s name, that was more than enough to push him over the edge too.

Nikolai pulled out of you, making you whine, and rolled onto his side, tugging you greedily into his arms.  “I love you,” he said, pulling the sheets over the two of you.  “I love you, I love you, I love you, I–oh.”  Your husband rolled over, reaching for something on his nightstand, and you furrowed a brow.  “Here,” he said, handing you a corked vial.  “Alkemi contraceptive.  If you don’t want any little Lantsovs just yet.”

You laughed softly and drank the contraceptive, handing the empty vial to Nikolai.  “Not quite yet,” you said, snuggling back into his arms.  “As my Queen commands.”  For a while, the two of you laid in silence, trading lazy kisses and soft smiles.  “I had no idea,” you said after a few minutes.  “That it could be so good.”  Nikolai smiled, kissing you sweetly.  “I will always make you feel good, my love.  I have so much to show you.”  The remainder of the night was spent with your darling husband showing you just how pleasurable love making should be, and when the servants entered to find their Queen seated on their King’s face, they kindly informed the rest of the staff to avoid the royal chambers for the day.

[babesiamthemenace]

36 from the NSFW prompts with Nikolai please?! 🥰

I know you requested smut but this wound up tuning into an angst/love confession fic within smut. I hope you enjoy!!!! Requests are open!

Summary:  Reader is a lifelong friend of Nikolai, having been with him during Sturmhold. Now that he is crowned to be King, the reality of war is starting to infiltrate your friendship and awaken things you had hoped to keep hidden. No chances left untaken.

Word count: 3.0K

Warnings:  🚫18+ Minors DNE🚫, afab! reader, slight angst, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it pls)

not my gif

No matter how many candles filled the map room of the forge, it still wasn’t enough to chase away the darkness of night. It gave a warm and hazy glow to the area, leaving a dull heat in the air. 

It was these candles that brought out the angles of Nikolai’s face. It was almost comforting for you to see him hunched over a table, scouring maps and looking over plans. You could almost pretend you were back on the volkvolny, deciding which port to dock on instead of where to attack next. From your hidden spot in the doorway, you could see the stress in his brow and almost feel tension across his shoulders. His hair was messy from fingers running through it, lips slightly chapped as well. You wished you could push away the loose strands from his forehead. 

“I know you’re staring.” Nikolai sounded tired, but there was still a hint of jest in his voice. You took a step forward. 

“Sorry. Lost in thought.” More papers, which had been forgotten in your hands, found their way in front of the king as you adjusted the mess on the long table. 

“So, what’s the consensus?” he asked, straightening his back with a satisfied sigh

A small smile found its way to your lips. “What?” 

“Am I still as devilishly handsome now that I’m to be King, or was a daring privateer a better look for me?” He faced you head on, a humorously quizzical look across his face. 

Chuckling, you pretended to study his features. You followed the lines of his strong nose and plush lips all the way to his collar bone peaking out of an unbuttoned undershirt. His brow tightened in anticipation of your answer. Honestly, he never looked more beautiful to you than right now; but he couldn’t know that. “Definitely the privateer, I’m afraid.

“Well damn.” 

Smiling again, your hands searched for something to do. As if second nature, you began piling up loose papers, and rolling maps back up. Your eyes followed paths across the country side and the borderline unreadable footnotes along the edges. Pausing, you ran your fingers along a dashed line going north. It was done in pencil rather than the professional inking of the map.  It was the path Alina and Mal had taken to look for the firebird with Baghra. Worry ran through you as you thought of your friends. 

“They’ll be okay.” You hadn’t noticed Nikolai come up beside you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers gripping tightly to the wool of your coat. You could almost feel the warmth of his skin through the thick fabric. 

“I know they will be.” you sighed, leaning your head back. “it’s what happens after.” 

He hummed in confusion.

“We’ll be going to battle.” 

“And when have I known you to be afraid of a fight?” His voice was still teasing, much to jovial for your liking. 

“When the fight has stakes like these, Nikolai.” you snapped at him. You turned fast, his hand dropping from your shoulder. “This isn’t some slavers ship or enemy club. This is us, against Grisha; powerful Grisha. The odds are stacked against us here.” 

“Don’t you think I know that.” he wasn’t yelling, but his voice was stern, commanding. “You think I don’t know all that we are risking here?”

“I know you know.” You ran your fingers through your hair angrily “It doesn’t change the fact that the possibility of us failing is greater than winning.” You pressed your palms against your brow “I could die” your hands slammed into your chest, then into his “You could die.”

“I won’t let that happen.” his voice was firm with resolve  

“You can’t control that.” 

He laughed coldly “Have you no faith in me?” 

“On the contrary, I have too much faith in you.” 

You roughly sat down in an empty chair, hiding your face in your hands. Faith, devotion, pride; these were all things you felt for Nikolai. You would do whatever he asked, you trusted Nikolai with your life. 

“I have followed you to the ends of the earth, and I would gladly do it again. You’ve been there through thick and thin, but it doesn't change that fact that I’m still afraid.” You looked up to see he had leaned against the table beside you, eyes on yours. Your voice was quiet, wavering with emotion. “I have too much to lose.” 

Nikolai’s voice was heavy and low, as though saying it too loud was a sin. 

“We all have something to lose.”  His hand found yours, still not looking away from your gaze. A pang of nervous excitement filled you as you stared into his eyes. A small smile couldn't help but find its way to your lips. You could almost get high off of this giddiness Nikolai was making you feel. It was making you bold. 

You stood up slowly, still holding onto Nikolai’s hand. The other gently cupped the side of his face. The slight prick of a day’s stubble brushed against your palm as he leaned into your touch. 

“If something is to happen to us… and we fall” you whispered, your face growing closer to his “ I want it to be with no regrets.” 

It was Nikolai who crossed the final stretch to meet your lips. The kiss was not long and almost timid. Still, his chapped lips felt like heaven against yours as you pulled away. Eyes closed, you pressed your forehead against his, warm breath fanning over your face. You could feel the energy buzzing between you.

“I am yours, Nikolai.” 

He groaned, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck. 

“You shouldn’t say that.” His voice was low, spoken against your skin 

“I speak nothing but the truth.” Your hand found itself on the back of his head, running through the shorter hair “I am yours, Nikolai. I have been for a while.”  

One arm circled your waist. “Your words are dangerous, little minx.”

The next kiss from Nikolai was not so timid. It was deeper, the hand on your cheek almost pulling you closer. His lips met against yours again and again, the taste intoxicating. You gripped onto his hair as he stood. Walking back with long steps, you slammed into the wall as Nikolai pressed himself to you. 

There was a crazed atmosphere about the both of you; a boldness. The excitement of this finally happening mixed with your looming situation left only desperation. Any type of suave was gone. You needed him, and you needed him now. 

For how frantic Nikolai’s hands were moving, his tongue was gentle as it ran along your lower lip, almost asking for permission. You let him in without a second thought, groaning. The chill of the stone wall was a stark contrast against the heat of his body against your. As you pushed yourself farthing into him, you felt something hard pressed against your thigh. Swiftly, Nikolai untucked your shirt, hands roaming along the newly exposed skin of your waist.

Nikolai’s lips began to move along your jaw in wet, open mouthed kisses. Moaning into your skin, you pushed his head closer to you. Hurried fingers found their way to the buttons of Nickolai’s shirt, messily undoing the first few. 

“Wait. Stop.” he was out of breath, hands gently grabbing yours. Still, he continued to press kisses to your skin. “Not here.” 

He looked down at you with lust filled eyes, puffy lips shining as he smiled. A bolt of heat went straight to your core. 

Leading you by your hands, he quickly blew out any remaining candles. You thanked every saint you could think of for the empty halls as you hurried to Nikolai’s quarter. You both giggled as he fumbled with the door, hands still intertwined. Anticipation buzzed in the air around you.

His room was dark when you entered with only the cool moon for light. Nikolai entered first, leaning into you to pull the door closed behind you. It had the same effect as the candle light, highlighting his already prominent features. You both quickly kicked your shoes off, Nikolai throwing his overcoat to the floor.  

“Now, where were we?” 

If not for how badly you wanted him, you would have laughed at how insufferable Nikolai sounded. You settled for a smile as your hands went to his jaw. Your kiss was not quite as frantic as before, but just as deep. His hands rested on your waist as you pulled his face closer to yours. Your noses bumped together while you slowly walked him back to the bed. You wasted no time crawling onto his lap once he sat, lips never leaving his. Hands traveled the expanse of your back as you nibbled on his lower lip, pulling deep groans from him. Continuing to unbutton the rest of his shirt, your mouth found its place against his neck, sucking dark marks into the pale flesh. Unable to stop yourself, you ground down into Nikolai’s hips, lightly biting into his skin. Groaning, his hips bucked into yours, sending a delicious tension to your core. 

You finished on his buttons, slipping off his suspender and pulling his shirt back. 

In all your years together, you had seen Nikolai shirtless before, but there was something different about it this time. You traced the strong lines of his chest, and ran your fingers up his sides, enjoying the shivers that followed your touch. His hands gripped onto the loose shirt bunched around waist, blue eyes boring into yours. 

“May I?” you nodded. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling the shirt over your head. While you were still in your undershirt, the thin fabric did little to hide your form. Lips finding yours, his large hands palmed your chest, nipples pebbling under his touch. You moaned into his mouth, body on fire.  Whether it was a bolt of courage, or the need to have Nikolai’s skin on yours, you pulled off the slip. 

He moved his hands so they were resting just under your chest, rough fingers rubbing lightly over soft skin. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him watch you, eyes trailing over your form. 

“Beautiful.” he whispered, eyes now on yours once again, “Perfect.” 

He began his assault on your neck again, following your collarbone to your breasts. He took one into his mouth, lapping over the bud. You moaned, your body keening forward into his touch. His hands supporting your back, Nikolai’s deep blue eyes kept contact with yours. He released with a pop, instantly moving to the other. As he continued, you ground down onto him, needing to find a release to the pressure building between you legs. One of the hands you had buried in his hair trailed down the waistline of his pants. Experimentally, you cupped the growing bulge, palming him. He instantly stopped what he was doing, burying his face between your breasts. 

“Saints, don’t stop.” He all but moaned into your skin, breathing heavily. You didn’t, pushing him down by his shoulders until he lay on his back, you overtop of him. 

“Gods, I want you.'' By now his blue eyes were completely blown out by lust, lips still shining. “I want all of you.”

To his protests, you did stop, moving up till you were over his head. You kissed him and he leaned up, chasing your lips when you pulled away. 

“As I said before, I’m yours to take”  

In a blur, you found your back hitting the soft mattress of the bed, Nikolai over you. His weight was being held up by one hand while the other was down at the button of your pants. He ran over the skin of your stomach, both in a teasing and hesitant manner. He would not go further just yet. 

You squirmed at his touch in anticipation “Please, Nikolai.”

“Please what?” his hand was now in your undergarments, but still not where you needed him 

“Please” you whined “touch me.” 

It felt like fire when he finally touched you, running his fingers along your slit. You both groaned. 

“Fuck” he was speaking almost to himself “Saints, you're so wet.”  

His fingers ran along your folds, and his thumb found purchase on your clit. You mewled, hips bucking into his hand.

Nikolai huffed in an almost laugh, “Eager, are we?”

He continued in tight, slow circles, drawing more sounds from your open mouth. You moaned at the pleasant stretch of a finger, heels digging into the bed. 

“You said you are mine, but that is simply not true.” you looked up at him with blown out eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“What do you…” you stopped, choking on a moan as he added another finger. It was like your nerves were on fire, and his touch was doing nothing to stop the heat. 

“You may think you are mine, but you're wrong.” he quickened his pace “I have been yours much longer than you have been mine.”

His words resonated in you, adding more fuel the fire.

Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, as if letting go would mean your death. The tension in your lower belly was now turning into a tight coil. Your pants now sat around your thighs, which were uncontrollably bucking up into his hand. Nikolai leaned forwards and took one of your breasts into his mouth, lewd sucking noises filling the air, along with your moans. 

“Please.” you wailed. The coil was now dangerously close to breaking, the tension almost too much “I need to…Please!” 

His lips left sloppy kisses against your skin, trailing up to your face. 

“Let go, love.” you wailed at his words “Let go for me.” 

With one final thrust into his hand, the coil snapped. Your vision darkened, pleasure taking over all of your senses. It was the most intense feeling you had ever observed. It pulsed throughout your body and into your core.

Your legs were shaking. That was the first thing you realized as you came too. The second was the wetness on your thighs. The final was the hand gently brushing over your face. Nikolai was cooing at you, pressing kisses lightly against your cheek. 

“You alright, my love?” he spoke in whispers, and you realized how out of breath you were. Instead of answering, you smashed your lips against his is a messy kiss, trying to convey your love for him into one simple action. All tongue and teeth, you finally broke apart to catch a full breath, resting against your forehead against his neck. 

“I need you, Nikolai.” you looked up at him “I need all of you.” 

The second he stood, you instantly missed his weight over yours. You sat, almost chasing him, but stopped when you saw he was undoing his pants. Shimmering yours the rest of the way down your legs, you laid back and waited. 

He was hard, almost painfully so, you would have guessed. Tip red and angry, it almost pulsed with need. A quick flash of guilt crossed you. You wondered how long he was like this while you were in the grasps of pleasure.

Moving back overtop of you, he ran his member through your folds, collecting slick. You moaned at the sensation, your heaving chest meeting Nikolai’s.

 You thought nothing could feel better than his fingers, but you were wrong. He created the most delightful stretch as he entered your heat. Nikolai groaned as he bottomed out, eyes screwed shut in pure pleasure, muscles tense in control.

He started with slow, yet deep strokes, hitting a spot that made your toes curl. Hands cradled his face. You shared breaths, his nose pressed into your cheek as his lips danced over yours. 

You both whispered words to each other, mostly only half finished thoughts lost in moans. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to keep him close as his thrusts began to speed up. The tension began to form again. His head dropped to your neck letting out smaller moans and whines into your skin.

Your hands rested on his back, skin clammy from sweat. His damp hair tickled you, but you didn’t mind as one hand dug into it, pulling slightly. His skin was fiery against yours, and yet you still tried to push as much of yourself against him as possible. One of his hands traveled down to your core, thumb messily rubbing over your clit once more. The small mewls you were making turned into choked wails as the coil tightened almost unbearably. 

Nikolai’s strokes were turning sloppy against you, going as deep and as fast as possible, hitting that perfect spot every time. It was a particular strong stroke that sent you over the edge yet again. 

You came, calling out his name as you raked your nails down his back. With one final thrust into your spasming core, he finished, groaning into your neck.  A new kind of warmth flooded your system. You were spent in the best way possible, body tired and thighs slick. The only sound that filled the air was heavy breathing as Nikolai looked up from your neck. He pulled out slowly and you both groaned at the sensation, but the loss of connection as well. You registered that he left, but came back very shortly, towel in hand.

After cleaning yourselves up, Nikolai pulled you close to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. He caressed your face, pushing back hair sticking with sweat. 

If you thought he was pretty an hours ago, he was gorgeous now. Messy hair stood in different direction and a nice flush covered his cheeks. Dark love bites littered his upper body, and his lips were almost bruised. You were sure you looked similar.

“I meant what I said” he whispered, smile on his face “I am yours, my darling” 

You leaned up and caught his lips. The kiss was tired, both of you energy gone.

“I love you” you grinned into his lips 

“And I love you.” 

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

three taps (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

or

the three times it took jesper to realize that three taps were something more than a meaningless habit.

warnings: violence, blood, implied se*ual as*ault (not detailed at all and very brief)

a/n: did i write this in less than a day? yes. did the inspiration come to me at six am? also yes. what about your other 50 wip, anna? did you write anything for them? nope.

hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

i. tap, tap, tap

Jesper had seen him do it more times than he could count. It was Kaz’s thing. Three taps, index finger hitting a wooden table, thumb brushing against a map or cane harshly meeting the floor. Most times they were fast taps, like a subconscious action, coming and going before anyone could give it any mind. Other times, however, they were slower, more emphasized, as if trying to make a point. Jesper was used to the taps, as he imagined (Y/N) and Inej also were. The sound came prior to every heist, prior to pronouncing the words of luck (no mourners, no funerals).

It was Kaz’s habit, something he probably did without even realizing, and Jesper couldn’t help but find it oddly comforting, a routine that somehow eased his nerves. (The world could be going to war, Ketterdam could be crashing down in flames, and Kaz would still tap three times. There was a sense of safety in that.)

It wasn’t until Jesper had a closer look that he realized the action was perhaps not as meaningless as he believed.

ii. cane meets ground three times: come back to me, i’m here

(Y/N) had known Kaz the longest out of all of them. Jesper hadn’t known the Slat without her, he hadn’t known Kaz without her. She’d always been there, a person in which the Dregs often found solace and always obtained an ear to listen without judgment. (Y/N) was a walking contradiction, soft around the edges yet powerful enough to bring the toughest people to their knees. She was everything Kaz wasn’t, maybe that was the reason they complimented each other as well as they did.

In a place where kindness was rewarded with death (Y/N) was unusually good-natured. Stray kids in the Barrel knew to find her if they were ever in urgent need of food or shelter. To outsiders she might’ve looked frail, her kindness might’ve made her seem weak, but the people of the underworld knew better than to be fooled by her selfless actions and innocent appearance. (Y/N) had an innate talent for causing people’s demise and there wasn’t a line she wasn’t willing to cross. The gentleness in her eyes would immediately harden at the sight of any threat, like molten lava hitting cold air. People who double-crossed her didn’t live to tell the tale.

Jesper wasn’t quite sure how Kaz and (Y/N) had met. From the whispers he’d heard around the Slat he figured it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. (Y/N) didn’t really discuss her life before joining the Dregs, not even when some of them would gather around to drink and curse the ghosts of the past.

Only once had Jesper gathered enough courage to break past the personal boundaries she’d clearly set and ask.

(And he’d only done it because he’d been almost drunk and really really curious.)

Kaz had been there, quietly observing as he often did, when the words had fallen out of Jesper’s mouth. He’d frozen in place, even when the question hadn’t been directed towards him, jaw tightening. Jesper had noticed Kaz’s instinctive response— because he might’ve been careless and drunk but he was also keenly observant —and that had him sobering up enough to know he was treading in dangerous territory.

No one had ever asked her directly, he’d realized at that moment as he held his breath and awaited a response. Many gossiped and guessed but no one had ever walked up to her and asked her about her past.

The softness hadn’t left (Y/N)’s face, but it was evident that the question had taken her by surprise because she’d frozen mid-action for a split second and something in her features broke. For the first time since he’d known her, Jesper saw the exhaustion and affliction in her eyes. The glint had disappeared as soon as it’d come, (Y/N) had regained her composure lightning fast, and Jesper had wondered if it’d ever been there at all.

She’d looked behind his shoulder at Kaz and they’d shared a look, one that Jesper couldn’t quite decipher. Something must’ve been telepathically said because the grip that Kaz had on his cane had lessened. His eyes, however, didn’t lose the murderous glint in them. Whatever he was remembering had fury roaring through his mind.

(It was only then that Jesper had understood that Kaz hadn’t been angered by his question but rather by the memories that had resurfaced. It must’ve been really serious because the only other time Jesper had ever seen that look in Kaz’s eyes Inej had been hurt and a guy had lost his eye.)

“I was a slave, Jes.”

Jesper did not know what he’d been expecting but that certainly hadn’t been it. As (Y/N) had pronounced the words a shadow crossed her face. It was the way she’d looked away from him, in discomfort and embarrassment, that had realization striking him like lighting. The weight of her words had settled in and Jesper understood, somewhat suddenly, what type of slave she’d been; the type to be used and discarded for the pleasure of rich men, sold and bought as if worth nothing more than an object. The burns and scars on her chest had suddenly made sense.

“It was a long time ago,” she’d added, eyes slightly glazed over, like she was physically there but mentally elsewhere. “And those men,” her eyes had flickered to Kaz before settling back on him, “they’re dead.”

More than dead if Kaz had something to do with it, Jesper had imagined.

Jesper had no way of knowing of the images flashing through her mind (pain, blood, and filthy hands. moans, tears, and screams) but he had recognized the unfocused gaze and the shaking fists by her side as her body’s response to reliving the trauma.

Jesper had never wished he could take back his words more than at that precise moment.

He’d opened his mouth to say something, anything to make the haunted look on her face dissipate, to lessen the burned he just had realized she carried, but Kaz had beaten him to it.

Tap, tap, tap. 

Gently, he’d poked the floor with the ferrule of the cane. The metal had hit the ground heavily, the thud resonating. Kaz’s eyes, Jesper had noticed, remained trained solely on (Y/N), eyebrows furrowed in something that might’ve been concern.

The sound had somehow snapped through the haze of memories and had managed to bring her back to them. (Y/N) had blinked the stupor away, once again in a surprisingly fast manner, before offering Jesper a smile that had every word dying at the back of his throat.

It was small and unbelievably sad, but genuine. It was enough for him to know that she didn’t resent him for asking.

“It was a long time ago,” she’d repeated, almost to herself. Then, she’d tapped the table three times, softly. Jesper wouldn’t have noticed the action if he hadn’t been hyperaware of his surroundings.

At the moment it’d seemed like a coincidence, like (Y/N) had mimicked Kaz’s habit to anchor herself back, but as Jesper laid awake later that night he’d realized it hadn’t been just that.

She’d turned to briefly look at Kaz after doing it. If Jesper had been soberer maybe he would’ve realized that Kaz had said something and (Y/N) had responded.

iii. foot meets floor three times: i’m worried, be safe

Getting shot at was always a nuisance, so it was a true inconvenience that (Y/N) appeared to be a bullet magnet.

Really, the girl had more bullet wounds than Jesper could count. (There were two on her left shoulder, close enough to overlap, and one on her right one. There was one on her upper thigh— which Jesper had never seen but Inej said was almost unnoticeable —and the graze on her left side). Despite her bad luck Jesper reckoned (Y/N) had some sort of Saint looking over her because, somehow, the bullets always missed any important organ.

(“I’m saving you for getting hit,” she’d once joked as Inej changed the bandage on her shoulder. “So, really, you all should be thanking me rather than worrying.”

Jesper would never admit it, but sometimes he thought about her words in a serious manner. Sometimes, as he gambled and his mind slipped away, he believed that (Y/N) somehow deflected the bullets off them and ended up unwillingly pulling them towards her.

It was insane and improbable, Jesper knew that, but he still believed it.)

None of her injuries, however, had ever been as bad as the one she’d suffered two months ago. It’d been a close-range shot and the bullet hadn’t pierced cleanly through the skin but rather had settled inside. It’d missed any major artery, by some sort of miracle, but the wound had gotten infected which had resulted in (Y/N) running a high fever for almost a week.

Kaz hadn’t said a word but Jesper knew he’d been restless, especially during the worst days of the infection when (Y/N) dying was more likely than not. Jesper had seen him pacing back and forth outside of (Y/N)’s room, cane tapping thrice against the wooden floor, never going in but peaking through the door whenever Nina or Inej left. It was odd to see their unshakable leader looking somewhat distraught. Maybe that was why he seemed so on edge now. It was (Y/N)’s first heist after the injury.

Jesper would lie if he said that he wasn’t worried. With her luck, she might end up getting shot tonight, again. He kept on looking at her from the corner of his eye, half expecting her to start bleeding out like she’d done all those months back.

(The image of blood slipping past her lips and her wide eyes was burned in the back of Jesper’s mind. He could still feel the blood soaking his shirt as he’d held her together with his bare hands.)

But (Y/N) remained excitedly rocking on her heels, twirling the gun in her hand the way Jesper had taught her. She caught his eye and winked.

She’ll be alright, Jesper reassured himself.

“Let’s go over it one more time.”

Kaz’s voice broke through the silence of the night, low enough to not startle the birds that slept in the trees above but loud enough for all of them to give him their attention.

Jesper stifled a groan. They’d been over this at least three times before. (Y/N) noticed his dramatized grimace and chuckled, nudging him with her elbow.

“Inej…”

The Wraith slipped out of the shadows, “I’ll enter through the back to the control room and disable the alarm. As soon as it’s done I’ll signal you.”

She nodded towards Jesper.

“Distraction as soon as I receive the sign,” Jesper continued.

Kaz assented. “The alarm deactivation will give us a ten-minute window for the theft,” he said it as if he hadn’t been reminding them of the small span of time they had ever since he’d devised the plan. “So the distraction has to last at least seven minutes.”

Jesper knew that, it gave enough time for (Y/N) to slip in and out without raising much suspicion.

He whistled and offered a self-satisfying smirk, “I’ve got it.”

Kaz stared at him for a second, as if trying to pick his mind apart with the power of his eyes, before turning to the girl by Jesper’s side.

“(Y/N)…”

She met his eyes with a grin. “I’m off the moment Jes begins to work his magic. Go in through the second window, safe is on the second floor, third room to the left.”

“And you’re looking for?”

“Pink star diamond, 60 carats,” she responded with ease. “And if something else catches my eye-”

“No,” Kaz cut her off, tone firm and resolute. Both Jesper and Inej snapped their gaze towards their leader, it wasn’t often that he limited just how much they could steal. “In and out.”

From the corner of his eye Jesper saw the smile fall off (Y/N)’s face, arms coming to cross defensively over her chest.

“But what if-”

“In and out,” Kaz repeated, always inflexible once he made up his mind. He jutted his jaw as if daring her to argue. Jesper half expected her to do so, after all (Y/N) was never afraid of disagreeing and questioning him— she was one of the few who could do it without much repercussion —but she didn’t.

If Jesper hadn’t been looking closely he would’ve missed it, the way (Y/N) eyes trailed down to Kaz’s feet, only for a second.

Tap, tap, tap.

The point of his boot tapping against the muddy floor, his eyes not once leaving (Y/N)’s.

Her face softened instantly, shoulders deflating. She tapped her index finger against her bicep thrice in return before uncrossing her arms.

She relented with a sigh, “In and out, okay.”

As they wished each other good luck (no mourners, no funerals) Kaz did it again and this time Jesper was waiting for it, the tap of the leader’s cane against the leaves.

Tap, tap, tap.

Comfort swept over him.

Everything went as smoothly as it can go when one is robbing a millionaire.

iv. finger meets wood three times: i’m sorry, i love you

Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason, Jesper had heard that saying being whispered more times than he could recall and he could vouch for it. It was, perhaps, what made Kaz so formidable. There was no knowing when he would strike because there was no why, and without a why one couldn’t forestall his actions.

Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason, but they’d given him one the moment they’d taken (Y/N). Their death sentence had been signed the moment they’d laid a hand on her.

As Jesper watched (Y/N) in silent concern he finally understood why people feared when they whispered that saying.

(Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason.)

“Find her,” Kaz had instructed Inej and Nina as soon as they’d arrived at their destination. The girls had disappeared into the night, focused on the rescue mission.

The hand with which Kaz gripped his cane had been shaking with anger all night.

The truth was he’d been seething ever since some rouge Dime Lions had taken what was his. (They’d been rouges, Kaz was certain. Pekka Rollins had sworn to him, after a few broken fingers, that he’d never ordered them to take his girl.) Everyone in the Slat had been on edge for the last three days, expecting their leader to snap at them at any moment, but Kaz had managed to keep a tight rein on his emotions.

The control had slipped from Kaz’s fingers the moment he caught a glimpse of a man on the deck of the rusty old boat, laughter-filled voice talking about how he’d made a mess of the Bastard’s bitch. The tremors in Kaz’s hands had come to a sudden stop. Before Jesper had the opportunity to even blink Kaz had fired his gun, hitting the blond straight in the forehead.  

(For someone who favored his cane over every other existing weapon, Kaz had a deadly aim. Jesper would never say it out loud, but he reckoned Kaz’s ability might come close to rivaling his own.)

“I’ll deal with them.”

Jesper had known what that meant; come with me, cover my back, but let me make them suffer.

Kaz Brekker was only one man but the murderous wrath in his eyes had let Jesper know that Kaz had no intention of leaving any of them alive. He was going to make them pay, he was going to destroy them.

Brick by brick.

It’d been carnage after that. Jesper had watched, in some sort of horrified awe, how Kaz had taken down every single one of the men. He’d shot some of them too, but it’d been mainly just Kaz. There’d been screams and the smell of blood had tainted the air.  

Then there’d been nothing but silence and a pained whimper.

(It was in moments like these that Jesper was struck with the realization that he knew nothing about Kaz Brekker. Because, if anyone had ever asked him about Kaz’s anger prior to what he’d witnessed that night, Jesper would’ve answered that Kaz’s anger was hot and sharp and acid, a searing rage that couldn’t be controlled once unleashed. Kaz’s anger knew no boundaries and crossed all limits, he would’ve said, it burned fiercely as it destroyed everything in its path. But that night Jesper had seen another side to Kaz’s rage. His eyes had looked downright homicidal, dangerously violent. They’d contrasted the lack of emotions in his features. His anger wasn’t fueled by emotion—not anymore, it’d gone past that —but rather by the innate need to protect what was his. It wasn’t loud or visible, but rather quiet and lethal. Cold anger that Jesper had found even more terrifying.)

“I know you planned all of this,” Kaz had walked closer to the man who laid on the ground, hands gripping a bullet wound in his kneecap and whimpers falling from his lips. “You thought taking my girl would make me falter, didn’t you?” The man had tried to scramble but Kaz had only tsked before swinging his cane against the man’s injured leg. He’d let out a pained moan, tears dripping down his cheeks. “You just made me angry.”

“Please, I’m begging you…”

“Oh, you should beg.” The heel of the cane had come down on the knees again, the snapping sound indicating a broken bone and the wail letting Jesper know just how bad the pain must’ve been. “I would shoot you in the face, but that would be too merciful of me.” He’d used the head of the cane, the prideful crow, to lift the man’s chin. “If (Y/N) was here she’d tell me to be gentle,” a shadow had crossed Kaz’s face, terrifying enough to make a chill run down Jesper’s back, “too bad for you she isn’t here.”

The head of the cane had been swung back and it came in contact with the man’s jaw. Blood had trickled down the man’s chin, a scream leaving his mouth.

“You took something of mine, you hurt something of mine, and for that, I’ll make sure you suffer.”

Kaz had used his cane after that and no more words were spoken.

Now, as Jesper watched (Y/N) flinch away from Nina, he wondered what would’ve happened if Kaz had seen her state before killing all those men. Maybe it’d been a blessing for them that he hadn’t.

Jesper had never seen (Y/N) so worn down. She sat by the stairs, knees to her chest, holding herself close. It was a strategic position, a place where she could watch all of them and no one could sneak from behind (part of Jesper’s heart had shattered when he’d come to that realization.) She’d only spent three days with the Lions but that’d been enough to cause cracks in the impenetrable wall she’d spent the last years building, past trauma slipping through. So far she hadn’t let anyone close to her, not even Inej who was her closest friend and who’d spoken in gentle whispers about treating her injuries. Her face was a mess, the beauty not gone but tainted with purples and blues. One of her eyes still bled. Under her nails and across her fingers there was dry blood but her arms held no injuries. Jesper just knew she’d given one hell of a fight. He wondered if this was what she’d looked like when Kaz had found her all those years ago, he wondered if maybe it’d been worse. He didn’t ponder long because the pain it caused in his chest was unbearable.

Her eyes snapped towards the door before it was slammed open. Jesper turned around just in time to see Kaz walk in.

(He’d changed and showered after arriving at the Slat. Jesper somehow knew he’d done that before seeing (Y/N) to prevent the blood— that’d covered his clothes and face —from triggering any unwanted memory.

It was (Y/N)’s first time seeing him after she’d been taken. Jesper knew that Kaz was their last hope of bringing her back to them.)

Jesper saw the moment Kaz’s unwavering gaze met (Y/N)’s face and he could tell, without a doubt, that anger was consuming him once again. His jaw clenched at the sight of bruises, and his hand clenched itself by his side.

He looked ready to burn the city to ashes in retribution.

Somehow, Kaz managed to control the rage. The frigid anger in Kaz’s eyes, the one that had frightened Jesper to the core, melted as he crouched in front of her.

“Are you with me?”

She blinked once, twice, thrice. Then, she nodded, and Jesper couldn’t help the sigh of relief that left his lips. She was here, broken and damaged, but here with them. That was enough.

Kaz’s gloved hand reached forward, stopping inches away from her face, ghosting over her bruised cheek. Careful not to touch any skin, he moved some of the hair out of (Y/N)’s face before fisting his hand and returning it to his side.

Jesper looked away, something about the act felt more intimate than it looked. Nosy as he was, he listened in.  

“They touched me,” the voice was weak and shaky and so unlike the (Y/N) that Jesper knew.

A sharp intake of breath. “I made them pay for that.”

“Did they suffer?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” It was barely a whisper but the words were surprisingly firm.

Jesper couldn’t see but he heard the taps. Three times. Kaz’s finger against the wooden railing of the stairs.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Jesper frowned, unbelievably confused by the words the girl had just uttered.

Tap, tap, tap.

Gentle and genuine, “I love you, too.”

Everything clicked at that precise moment, the confusion faded away. Jesper was left dizzy with the realization that Kaz’s taps meant absolutely everything. They were his way of telling them he cared. No one knew, no one understood the action, and maybe that was why Kaz kept on doing it.

But now Jesper did, now he understood.  

From that day on he found himself twirling his guns thrice before going out and causing mayhem.

[barbarianbookhoe]

hiiii! request for kaz x reader but they have a toddler together

Aww, I love toddlers! I have a cousin who's almost 3, and I play so much with him, ah (I swear he never sleeps)

A/N: I kinda imagine Kaz as a boydad (not really sure) (but if requested I can write one where he has a daughter) Kid's age isn't specified, around 2-3 years old. Btw, I tried a gender neutral reader, but it wasn't as good as I hoped, so this is a fem!reader x Kaz. Sorry for grammar mistakes!

TW: touch aversion, loss of brother, miscarriage

(I swear it's a fluff story, we just need to get through the dark ages first)

It was a faint noise at first, which Kaz decided to ignore, despite his instincts. It was coming from one of the streets below. Another noise came, this time louder, that was definitely coming from the room next door. He still tried to ignore it.

The third time around Kaz didn't bother pretending that the crying noise would resolve itself, so he sat up in bed and reached over to his side. He found it empty, which made him get out of bed and walk over to the entrance of the room attached to the bedroom.

But he came to a stop when he noticed the crying toddler from mere seconds ago, now soundlessly sleeping in your arms, as you cuddled him to your chest, lightly rocking yourselves in the rocking chair.

"It's okay, I got him. Go back to sleep," you whispered to him, not even looking up from your son. Kaz let out a quiet scoff. "And have conversation with the ceiling? If we're both already awake, then I'm staying." He said and sat down on the windowsill next to you.

"Your grumpiness in the morning won't be my fault," you told him on a sing song voice, not wanting to wake your child. He just rolled his eyes as he caressed his son's head. "You hate the mornings too, wife."

"At least I don't have the temper of a wet cat, husband."

Husband. Kaz took a moment to take the word in. Even after years of being married, he still couldn't believe it when you called him that. Calling you his wife came easily to him, as if his well protected heart knew who you were, long before his mind got drowned in you.

You never would've guessed you'd be holding his hand, let alone be in the same bed with him. It took the two of you months to get this far. Ever since Kaz told you that he wants you to stay with him, in his own way of course, he had been trying to get past his aversion to touch. He never told you, worrying that you wouldn't see him the same, so he did it in a way that wasn't easily noticeable.

It started with the proximity. Day by day, he sat or stood closer to you and the Crows, getting used to the possibility of accidental touches. Then came touching your arm and back, making it seem as if he's just guiding you somewhere. He did that a lot as a protective gesture.

After the second month of these little things, Kaz got fed up with himself one night, when you got stabbed on your leg and he couldn't help treating your wound. So, out of pure annoyment with himself, when you came into his office with some documents he asked for, he grabbed your waist and held you close to him. Your bodies weren't touching yet, but it was closer than you've ever been to him.

Both of you just stood there, not moving an inch, getting used to the feeling of Kaz holding you, despite the multiple layers of clothing. It was like a breath of fresh air.

So, with months of carefully calculated work, Kaz was able to sleep in the same bed with you, holding your hand, without a knot in his stomach, or phantom hands trying to pull him under. He only needed one look at your calm, content face and he felt like he could breathe again.

"This is what I've been saying! I shouldn't have even though about it!" Kaz said sternly, more to himself than you, as you sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his shirt to your chest.

"Kaz, we both knew this wasn't going to be easy! But the fact that you've been making progress for more than 3 years now, means that you care enough to try," you told him as his hands went through his hair. "You care enough about me, about us. And that means a lot to me."

"Clearly not enough, if I cannot even do this..." he whispers to himself, but you hear him and look at him with anger. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you, that I don't need you to do this? That I'm not demanding this from you?"

"You know you could make it easier," Kaz finally looks at you, frustration written on his face. "You could go to a brothel and get it done, without watching your partner lose his mind and cry in a corner."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, the disbelief clear on your face as you stare at him. "Oh, you're serious? Damn it Kaz, I did not stay in Ketterdam because it was the easy way! I did not stay to watch you punish yourself for everything!" At your raised voice he looked at you as if he couldn't decide if he heard you correctly.

"Do not look at me like that, you know what I'm talking about! I'd like to remind you, that you were the one who said progress takes time, and that it's worth the waiting. That I am worth the waiting! So please Kaz, don't beat yourself up over this," you say the last words on a soft voice, that Kaz swears could lull him to a dream.

Kaz curls his hands into fists, but lets them relax as he sats down on the edge of the bed next to you. You look at him patiently, waiting for him to reach out to you. Despite the feather light touch he places on your cheek, his cold blue eyes seem to hold a certain heat to them.

"I'm blaming myself, because I can't touch you, or hold you, the way I want to," he whispers, his voice raspy from his emotions. "The way a woman like you should be held," he practically mouths the words onto your shoulder, slowly making his way to your neck.

"I would give all my money to treat you like you should be," he places a kiss on your cheek and pulls away from you, and you keep yourself glued to your spot, respecting his boundaries. Though, a voice inside you tries to convince you to pull him back.

You don't hide your feelings from him, instead you look at him with a heated gaze, and let him decide if he wants to continue or not. You could do it tonight, you want to do it, Saints you've been wanting to for a painfully long time, but you will never pressure him to make the first step. It won't lead to anything good if you push him, so you just keep sitting there, patiently staring at his eyes.

And when he nods, just a slight tilt of his head meaning he's ready, you reach out to take his face in your hand.

"Kaz?" You whisper and he hums in response. "I will give you all the kruge in the world, if you have tonight alone with me."

"You're bribing me into my own bed? I didn't expect this from you, Y/N," he says as he slowly removes the shirt you're still holding to your chest. You move up on the bed as Kaz tovers over you, his hands on each side of your head.

"Anything to get what I want," you whisper as you glance down to his lips and back to his eyes. Kaz slowly leans down to your lips, not wanting to rush himself. "Oh? And what do you want, darling?"

You don't even have to think before the word slips off your tongue, as natural as breathing.

"You."

Everything was fucked up. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. When Kaz reached out to his Crows for a job, for old times sake, a heist that shouldn't have been quarter as serious as the Ice Court, it went sideways at the last minute.

It was a blur to all of them how they got out, and none of them dared to question their luck. While you and Nina carried a bleeding Jesper back to the Slat, you suddenly felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, fearing that it might've been from a kick, or worse, a stab wound.

Inej, Wylan and Kaz surrounded the three of you, keeping an eye out for any more threats. Kaz pushed the Slat's door open for you to go inside, and Nina helped you get Jesper up into his old room, quickly setting him down on a desk he left there.

You were all grateful that almost no one was in the building, too busy living their life on a Friday night.

The pain in your abdomen appeared again, and you quickly checked yourself for a wound or bruise, but finding nothing you ignored it. Maybe it's from stress, it wouldn't be the first time.

The silence quickly disappeared when Nina and Kaz walked into the room, Wylan and Inej hot on their heels. They began arguing about Kaz's planning, Nina's still intact fear of using her abilities, Kaz's stubbornnes, and so on. You tried to yell at them to stop, not wanting to deal with their differences at the moment, but they didn't listen, even after multiple of your attempts.

During one of your outbursts, you sent Inej down to the kitchen to calm Wylan down and keep him company. She only returned to gave you a bowl of water and a towel, to clean off Jesper's wound.

As you worked, the sharp pain increased in your stomach and it took every ounce of your will to not double over. You didn't notice when Kaz and Nina had stopped their argument, but you did notice the eerie silence that followed. You were just finishing stitching Jesper's side, when you grabbed your stomach as a new wave of pain washed over you.

No.

No, no, no, no. This can't be happening. This is not what I think it is, you thought.

Please, don't let this be what I think it is.

You took a glance at your dark pants, but didn't notice anything, so you slided a hand between your thighs and checking it, you saw blood. You knew what it meant. You knew what this was, yet you had to take a second to fully wrap your head around it.

"Are you alright?" Nina asked from the foot of the bed, checking both you and Jesper. "Are you hurt? You look pale as a-"

"If she was, she would've told us Zenik," Kaz said on his usually cold voice, making Nina snap back at him. "How am I supposed to now, if I don't ask? Wouldn't be the first time one of you hid a wound-"

"Just shut up," you told them, but they didn't hear you over their new argument, and you felt the tears burning in your eyes, as you put a blanket over Jesper out of protectiveness for him.

You could feel the blood dripping down your pants, down to your leg, and you felt like throwing up. You took deep breaths to keep yourself from completely breaking.

"Wait, just, shut up for a minute Brekker!" Nina told Kaz and he was ready to snap at her, when Nina turned to you sternly. "Alright Y/N, I can literally feel the blood around you, so if you have any-"

"I need you to bring me my bag," you told her, not looking up at her, the pain still too evident on your face. "It's a brown bag, with clothes and hygienic stuff in it, it's under the bed in Kaz's room."

"Are you sure you're alright? I can check if there's anything that-"

"Nina, I'm having a miscarriage, would you fucking go and get it?!" You snap at her and making the mistake of staring at her while doing so. The unshead tears mixed with the pain in your eyes makes both Kaz and Nina freeze.

Kaz looks at you with wide eyes, his face going visibly pale, and his cane almost slips out from his hands. He manages to catch himself and leans his back to the wall for support. Nina doesn't know what to do, she just stands there, the tears streaming down her face. Before she could even try speaking up, you stop her.

"Please Nina, I beg of you, just get me that damn bag," your voice cracks as you try to hold back yourself from crying. As Nina opens the door to go, you will yourself to walk out the door, away from Kaz's hand, all the way to his room. Nina doesn't say anything as she gives you the bag, just looks at you mournfully, gently giving you a half hug.

You and Kaz stand in the room for what feels like hours, when you move to the small bathroom, unpacking your bag.

Why did I even ask Nina? I was heading here anyway. Nevermind, it got me time to compose myself until I got here, you tell yourself, a distraction from wanting to collapse to the floor.

When you felt the first tears escape, you furiously wiped them off, quickly getting some stuff from the bag. Your vision began to blur from your tears, despite your violent attempts at getting rid of them.

Kaz watched you with a mix of sadness, frustration and shock. He didn't even know you were pregnant. Maybe you didn't either, maybe you were just guessing, figuring it out. The state he saw you in when you realized what was happening, it was a stab to his heart. He didn't know how he could comfort you. He always understood your pain, but this time he knew he wouldn't. He would never fully understand this loss.

As he watched you become more furious with your tears, still trying to keep yourself from falling apart, he was there to catch you. Kaz abandoned his cane and wrapped you in a hug and let himself slowly slide down to the floor as you sobbed in his arms.

You told him you weren't ready for a child. He agreed that he wasn't either. Then why did this hurt you so much?

"I can't," you said but Jesper just scoffed. "Oh come on! I celebrate my wedding only once, and I already got Inej to drink. I believe the pirate life got to her," he giggled and you just shook your head at him.

Yes, Wylan and Jesper finally got married, which resulted in a small celebration within the Crows. Everyone was at their mansion in the dining room, congratulating the newly wed couple. Kaz was more alert than ever, never once leaving your side for more than a few minutes. Jesper even commented on it, which resulted in Kaz hitting his head with a slice of cake.

Jesper didn't mind though, he ate the remains off his head without problem.

"Just a sip for me, love! I even bought that fancy drink you like," Jesper said, practically begging you, but you just giggled at him. "Jesper, if a woman says no, then it's no."

"Alright, alright," he held his palms up, not pushing further. "Just tell me why. Normally, you wouldn't miss out on an occasion like this."

You took a quick glance at Kaz, and when he tried to cover up his boyish smirk with downing his drink, you smiled at Jesper.

'Yes, but normally I wouldn't be four months pregnant." The silence that came was filled with shock. Except the sound of Nina choking on her food, and Inej hitting her on the back for help.

"You're what?!"

"I'm gonna be an aunt, I'm gonna be an aunt!"

"I knew there was a reason Kaz acted like a guard dog lately!"

"Saints help this child,"

Everyone got so excited and busy with talking to you, that it gave Kaz a moment to relish in your presence. The way you were constantly smiling at them, already glowing from joy, your hand never letting go of Kaz's under the table. When Kaz felt someone's gaze on him, he glanced around to see Nina staring at him with a bittersweet smile, as if remembering the same thing he had on his mind.

This will be different. This will be better. This will be good.

As you came closer and closer to the end of your pregnancy, you became a hurricane of human emotions.

After announcing the news to the Crows, it was only a matter of time before you started showing. You and Kaz were both terrified of what could happen if anyone in the Barrel found out about your pregnancy. After endless days of debating with Kaz, you decided to move to Lij, Kaz's hometown for a few months.

The countryside relaxed you, and Kaz found it that if you had moved here sooner, maybe he could've evaded the aftermath of your mood changes. He thought this calm and happy version of you was far better than the one throwing knives at his head for gaining weight.

Since you came here, Kaz tried to deal with his trauma in this place too. He could still feel Jordie here, and in the first few weeks he was sure he was going to go mad. Until one night, when you were over the moon with the baby kicking, you advised Kaz to find peace within this place. So he did.

Reluctantly, annoyed and terrified to his core, but he did. He made a headstone for his family, he let himself mourn, remember the boy he once was.

He also didn't stop being Dirtyhands, now doing it via letters. He had Wylan and Jesper to take care of things for now, along with Anika and Specht. Kaz made sure to check on them quite seriously, despite not being able to go for more than a day or two.

One day he found himself working on the same things his father did in his memories. He made sure the little farmhouse had stable staircases, he rearranged the furniture almost everywhere, he fixed the bed frame in the bedroom, also fixed every single lock, door knob, window, and even made time to take care of the farm itself; the trees, the crops, the two horses in the stalls.

Despite trying to keep his hair as dark as possible, Kaz Brekker couldn't hide from the sunlight. Especially not when you looked the happiest when seeing him basked in sunlight, his hair brown like chocolate basked in honey.

"Just one more!" Nina shouted as you groaned in pain. You told Kaz that you wanted Nina to deliver your child, despite her lack of training. Though Nina helped assissting births before, this was different. All three of you knew it was different.

The baby was coming weeks earlier than they should've, which made you panic more than anything. You gripped the bedframe above your head so tightly, you could hear the wood creaking.

You've been at this for a few hours now, and you just wanted it to stop. Everything hurt and you wanted this to be over. Nina kept shouting at you, finding it the most effective way of keeping your focus on her. Kaz didn't leave your side for one second, except when Nina needed something to help her.

At first he kept his gloves on, the sweat of your skin making him doubt himself, but as the hours passed he got rid of them. His hand was gripping yours, trying to take away from your pain, if it was even possible.

But when you heard that cry, you felt the world stop. Nina was saying something as she checked on the newborn to make sure he was alright, but you couldn't hear it. The only thing that you focused on was the little boy, that was now placed on your chest. Everything fell into place as you stared down at him, with Kaz wrapping an arm around your shoulder, looking at his son like he was some kind of treasure.

You have spent hours in the rain to get information. You had knives thrown at you. You escaped death multiple times. Once you even drank poison to make a bluff look real.

All of them seemed like a walk on Sunday compared to the first year with your son. You could go on and on about how he didn't want to sleep, then didn't want to eat, then he would only stop crying when Kaz was holding him, then when he was constantly crying in his arms, scaring Kaz who had a hard time keeping the newborn at his chest, that when your son began sitting you were in constant fear of him somehow rolling off the bed, and-

And you would still say you love him more than anything. Because when he wasn't frustrating you, he was the happiest kid you've seen in your life. His giggle and laugh, the way his eyes lit up with joy while playing with him. Saints those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, the exact replica of Kaz's. Whenever you looked at the two of them, you couldn't even try to deny they were father and son.

His hair turned out to be what you imagined: light brown, almost blonde, as if it was Sun kissed. He could be tricky just like Kaz too.

When he first stood up, not yet walking, you didn't saw him do it, but Kaz rushed to get you to make you see it. It was only a few seconds, but your son looked at you and sat down, and after asking him multiple times, he wouldn't stand up again. And the boy was giggling all through it.

His first steps were something that you'd keep in your memories forever. Because it wasn't a milestone just for him, but for Kaz too. Your son was past his first birthday, and Kaz was having a hard time with him. Something always went sideways, wether it was accidentally making him cry, or having to give him to you, because he couldn't hold him anymore.

You were moving back to Ketterdam to a quiet neighbourhood, where no one knew your face, the apartment purchased under a fake name.

Kaz was on the front porch of the farmhouse, getting the lighter boxes into the carriage. He heard footsteps behind him and when he turned he saw your son standing at the front door. You were just a few steps behind unmoving, not wanting to make him stop.

"You're gonna keep standing there, or will you help?" Kaz asked him, as if he could give him an answer.

He did this a lot with him. You noticed the habit by accident, when one time you came back from the market and heard Kaz talking to someone. You thought maybe one of the Crows came for a visit, so when you saw Kaz in deep conversation with your newborn about investments, you were more than surprised. From then on it became a daily routine for the two of them to "have a chat".

The child babbled something and Kaz nodded. "Start by coming here and picking this up," he said and held up a little toy blanket Inej got for your son.

And he did. He took four wabbling steps towards Kaz, purposefully looking at him before landing on his foot. Kaz instantly picked him up and when you saw one of his rare smiles, your heart melted a little.

Living in Ketterdam with a 2 year old was definitely the biggest job you and Kaz had to pull off. It helped that Wylan and Jesper was closer this way, if you needed someone to take care of your son.

What didn't help was the noise at night. Both of you got used to the sound of fights and drunks on the street, the neighbourhood far from the Barrel not escaping their voices. The two of you could've slept like it was nothing, if it wasn't for your child crying out in the middle of the night.

You had to take multiple turns in one night, and it was tiring the both of you out. With Kaz now back in the Barrel, doing his business, building his empire, it was slowly taking a toll on him. So one night, with the help of Jesper, Kaz snuck out with your son to his office in the Slat, figuring out a way to keep him calm.

You were in the Crow Club, tending to a few things, giving the impression that you were just travelling and doing jobs the past two years. You felt relieved to see how well Anika and Specht worked together, and felt a childish giggle in your throat as you fell back into your role as a guard. The rush you felt finally wearing your old clothes, the feeling of the knives strapped under your coat, and the sadistic joy of twisting a man's arm for the first time in years, it was unfathomable.

When you went to the Slat and made your way to Kaz's room you heard him talking again. Picking up on the calmer tone he used, you entered and noticed your son sitting in Kaz's lap, as he was pointing on a map in front of them.

"You're saying we should invest into Fifth Harbor?" Kaz asked but the toddler just said "ma". "Could you elaborate?" And with that he put the child's weight on his good leg and lightly began shaking his leg, as if the boy was riding a horse. He giggled as his own voice trembled from the motion.

"Yes, but in that case it'd be wiser to expand the Crow Club, or rather establish a new gambling den." Another sound came from the toddler, this time saying"mama". "Go, ask your mother yourself."

You were about to put a bullet in your head. Or at least ask Jesper to do it for you. By the look on Kaz's face you would have to wrestle for it.

You were spending the evening at Wylan's and what do you know, Jesper was ready to keep your son entertained the whole time. You on the other hand, were scared of what your toddler would accidentally say. He's been trying to talk to you for weeks now, only knowing words and not actual sentences yet.

But one night, when Kaz was late because of something he had to take care of, you were waiting for him in the kitchen after putting your son to sleep. He came in with blood all over his shirt, thankfully his coat covering most of it.

What you didn't notice though, was the small presence at the doorway, listening to the two of you talking.

"So, you just left him there like that? In his own kitchen?"

"You rather I tell him he's been a bad boy? The asshole was being overconfident with himself. Plus, he owes the Dregs."

"What did he even say?"

"I told him I have his contract with the Council, to which he said "You can shove it up your ass". I had a difficult day, so you know why I-"

"Your ass." The little voice said, wich made you look at him in shock. Your son was hiding behind the doorframe, clutching his stuffed animal to his chest. You looked back at Kaz in disbelief, which turned into annoyment.

"Would it kill you to teach him a decent word?"

"He knows the swear words from you, wife," Kaz told you with a smug look. "Fuck you," you whisper to him, but unfortunately still loud enough for your son to hear.

"Fuck"

"This is all your fault Kaz,"

So you were waiting for the bomb to drop, for your son to finally say one of the bad words he picked up, but the night went on without it. You bid your goodbye to Jesper and Wylan, your son holding your hand and waving at them as you did.

"You'll have to tell me where Jesper keeps his liquor," you ask of Wylan, and the little boy next to you finally speaks.

"Up your ass," he smiles. You just stare back at Wylan and Jesper's face with the best poker face you have, ignoring Kaz's cough next to you. Your son also says the word "fuck", but you're too stunned to pay it any mind.

"Uh, see you next week then," you tell them and turn to leave, but Jesper's voice stops you.

"Where the hell did he learn these?" He tries to contain his laugh, but the smile on his face fails him.

"Ma-ma,"

"I swear he's doing this on purpose."

A/N: The first half was more tragic than it should've been, I'm so fcking sorry, the idea just slipped out :/ Hope you liked it, though😅

[mcntsee]

Tit for tat

Summary: Kaz accidentally walked in on Y/N changing, but as Jesper said to Y/n, “Tit for tat”.

Warnings: Mentions of nudity but not explicit at all. Super short. Ooc Kaz.

Note: I was watching Friends and got an idea. I don’t really know if this is good, just thought it’d be a funny idea.

In the bustling city of Ketterdam, Kaz Brekker and Y/N were the epitome of an unlikely friendship. Their lives revolved around intricate schemes and calculated risks, their bond forged in the crucible of danger. While their connection teetered on the edge of something more, they maintained a silent understanding, their hearts guarded behind walls of steel.

One day, fate played a mischievous hand, setting the stage for a moment neither of them would ever forget. Y/N, in the privacy of her room, was in the midst of changing when Kaz, lost in his thoughts, accidentally strode in, catching a glimpse that would forever burn in his memory. “Y/n, I need you to g-“ His eyes widened in horror, his face turning an intriguing shade of crimson as he hastily retreated from the room, his words of apology stumbling out as he slammed the door of her room shut.

Jesper, ever the keen observer, witnessed the flustered Kaz and raised an amused eyebrow. “You alright, boss?” he quipped, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Kaz, attempting to regain his composure, merely nodded curtly before hurriedly making his way down the corridor, his thoughts racing in a jumble of embarrassment and distraction.

Sensing a tale worth hearing, Jesper decided to investigate further. He sought out Y/N, who was now fully dressed, a bemused smile on her face. “So, what happened?” Jesper asked, unable to contain his laughter.

Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Kaz walked in on me, accidentally of course, and saw more than he bargained for,” she explained, relishing in the opportunity to tease the usually unflappable Kaz Brekker.

Jesper’s laughter echoed through the room, his voice laced with amusement. “Ah, you know what they say, Y/N. Tit for tat.”

With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, Y/N embarked on a quest to turn the tables on Kaz. She meticulously plotted her revenge, biding her time and awaiting the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard. Every interaction became a chance to inch closer to her ultimate goal.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N’s determination never wavered. She observed Kaz’s habits, noting his routines and patterns, studying the intricate dance of his every move. The game was afoot, and she was determined to emerge victorious.

One fateful evening, as the moon cast its ethereal glow upon Ketterdam, Kaz, clad in his signature black attire, had just returned from a long day of dealing with the city’s underbelly. He had planned to take a much-needed shower to wash away the grime of the streets. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N, bubbling with mischievous excitement, had hatched a plan to exact her revenge.

As Kaz entered his shower, already undressed and ready to step into the steamy embrace of the shower, Y/N burst through the door, laughter bubbling forth uncontrollably. “Tit for tat, Brekker!” she exclaimed, her voice a playful mixture of triumph and amusement.

Caught completely off guard, Kaz’s eyes widened in surprise, and a rare blush crept up his cheeks. Before he could react, Y/N swiftly turned on her heel and darted out of the room, leaving Kaz momentarily stunned.

As the realization of the prank sank in, a smile tugged at the corners of Kaz’s lips. He couldn’t help but chuckle at Y/N’s audacity and the sheer boldness of her act. While caught off guard, he admired her spirit and tenacity, for few had managed to surprise him.

Word of the incident quickly spread throughout the Crow Club, becoming a legendary tale of Y/N’s daring retaliation. The laughter and whispers followed Kaz and Y/N wherever they went, cementing their status as partners-in-crime and confidants.

From that day forward, their friendship bloomed with a newfound sense of camaraderie. The boundaries that had once held them back were shattered, and they reveled in their shared laughter and secret adventures. Their banter was laced with an undercurrent of playful teasing, the memory of the “Tit for Tat” incident forever etched in their minds.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

let me be yours

a/n: this (and so many other ideas omg) was just sparked when he said the whole let me be your monster line in s2

warnings: aleksander morozova x reader, enemies to lovers undertones, love confession

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“See, you may think you know what you want, but you don’t,” Aleksander explained calmly as he slowly stepped closer towards where you stood, leaning against the palace wall, “no, I know exactly what it is that you really want,” he came to a stop right in front of you and breathed, “what you truly desire…” his obsidian gaze so fierce that it sent a shiver down your spine. 

Your heart nearly beat completely out of your chest, not only by his arrogant assumption but also by the unfamiliar intimate proximity, “you want a challenge,” he continued, “you want a love that consumes you,” you sucked in a sudden breath as one of his hands unexpectedly came up to gently swipe your hair back over your shoulder, his fingertips lightly ghosting over the side of your exposed neck as he did so, “one that’s so all-consuming that it blurs the line and you confuse it with hate.”

“You, my little bird, don’t want a hero,” the room around you two seemed to dim slightly, letting you focus on him and only him as he uttered, “you desire a monster,” his tall frame towered over yours as he proposed fervently, “let me be yours.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[igotanidea]

The love of rain : Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Request submitted as a part of my 1k celebration: Rain and Nikolai (thank you anon!)

Warning: some spice, but nothing explicit, apart from that just fluff

***

The weather in Ravka was whimsical, to say the least.

One day there was sun and clear sky and the other the habitants had to deal with fog or storm or rain. And most of them did not like when it was wet and dark outside, cause it was clear sign that they would be stuck at the little palace for longer than anyone would wish for. It was particularly painful for squallers and tidemakers, the rest were complaining but found their way to deal with it. Of course, it was possible to just use the Grisha power and dissipate the clouds, but nature was nature and there were still rules to stick by, one of them saying that Etherealki were not supposed to mess with it more than necessary.

However, there is always an exception to the rule, or at least they say so.

“Ugh!” Zoya grunted upon noticing the first drops on the ground “I can’t believe it! Why can’t we just make those clouds go away? I can do this.”

“Zoya” Nadia put a hand on her shoulder “you know we are not supposed to do that. King’s orders.”

“Well, someone should knock some sense into Nikolai’s head” the brunette scoffed, raising her hands, ready to call upon the wind “I need training. I want to train and I am not going to stop just because….”

“Surely you are not going to disobey, right?” Adrik came out of nowhere and chimed in “you are a soldier, you have to be obedient.” He reminded her and it made her sigh deeply in frustration.

“I hate it.”

“Yes, we heard you loud and clear, now come on, we have to find shelter before we get drenched.”

And just like that, all the Grisha assembled on the palace ground started running from the droplets, which slowly intensified and after a couple of minutes, the drizzle turned into full-on torrent.

“Aren’t you happy we are inside now?”  Nadia smiled at Zoya, but the latter was even more annoyed than before.

“NO!” she said firmly with a pout on her face

“Someone’s in the mood, today” a male’s voice came from the other entrance to the room and everyone turned to face king Nikolai himself.

“My king” Genya was the first one to raise from her seat and approach him

“I still can’t get used to that title” Nik smiled brightly “but you gotta admit it suits me well, doesn’t it?”

“Well…..” Genya started, but Zoya interrupted her

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get too much to your head, you majesty.” She smirked

“If it ever does, I give you permission to knock some sense into me.” Nikolai chuckled at the girl’s surprised expression “yes, yes, I heard you use that particular expression. Just be sure to avoid the face, will you? Your punches are quite strong and I can’t risk getting injured in the most visible part of me. Now, is everyone back from the field?”

‘Squallers are at full strength” Adrik assured

“How about tidemakers, Annika?”

“As well, moi tsar.” the girl bowed gently and earned a smile from Nikolai.

“And what about Inferni?” he hesitated a bit

“I think we all know the answer to that question. Y/N is missing, obviously.”

“Guess that’s the aftermath of the time she spend on the ship with you in the role of Sturmhond”

“Good thing I know exactly where to look for her.” Nikolai started walking towards the exit ready to go outside straight into the downpour

“My king!” Genya yelled after him “you should not….”

“Oh, dear Genya, after all this time, you should not use the “you should” with me. Don’t you know I’m gonna do what I want either way. I’m the king after all” he winked at the girl without having any care in the world.

*** “You know, for an Inferni, you are strangely fascinated with water.” Y/N, who was sitting under the canopy near the waterfall, listening to the sound of rain turned around at the voice, a bit alarmed, ready to throw a fireball straight into Nikolai’s face. “Hey! Easy with that!” he raised hands in defense.

“Do not sneak on me!” she spat and then started laughing at the man, her eyes glistening with joy “you are drenched, moi tsar.“

“As if you weren’t.”

“I don’t really care. Besides, I got the heat, I can get myself dry, easily, unlike you.” Y/N smiled at him and reached a hand towards him “come on, we can both fit in here. Can’t risk you getting sick.”

“Oh, you are worried about me” he grinned sitting close to her, sneaking an arm around her waist and puling the girl in “That is just so sweet, my love”

“Mhm, sure. I’m worried about all your people and royal advisors coming after me with pitchforks because I gave the king the flu.”

“Pichfork?” he raised an eyebrow, but could not help a little laugh. “Why pitchfork?”

“I don’t know” she leaned into him. It was kinda funny, how she was the Infeni and yet, he was the one who was giving her warmth. The kind that does not come from the fire, but from the inside and from all the feelings she get because of him “isn’t that what used to be use to deal with witches? And I am a witch after all.”

“Sure you are. You definitely bewitched me.” Nikolai kissed her temple and she closed her eyes enjoying this. Maybe too much. “Besides, as the king, I choose to be here.”

“It’s just so quiet and peaceful, you know” she snuggled closer to him “unlike in the palace or in training. There just always so many people, so many noises. And rain, rain just make it all go away.”

“Like I said, you are one strange Inferni.”

“Maybe.” She sighed “you know people hear “’Inferni” and automatically assume those are the one who beams with energy all the time, have power and strength, and are always ready to jump into action. But hey, guess what, we are people too, we are tired and stressed and worried and need a break from time to time.”

“Hard week?” he asked rubbing on her arm lovingly and reassuringly.

“Like usual. It’s not like I can compare with all your duties. You’ve been busy too.”

“Is that why you’ve been hiding here?” he moved away slightly just to search for an answer in her eyes. “Don’t. turn away from me” his hand found a way to her cheek making her face him “Y/n, darling, tell me.”

 “I… that may have been the reason” she muttered “I just knew you would come to find me.” She looked down for a moment but then raised gaze and focused it on his face “Nik, I’m sorry, I just missed you and ….”

She did not get to finish as he leaned forward and planted his lips on hers in the most gentle, slow and emotional kiss that any girl could imagine and wish for. If she wasn’t sitting, her knees would probably gave up on her and she would fall to the ground. Saints, how she missed this. It’s been a week since they had a single silent moment together and it was all reflected in such simple, yet meaningful gesture. His grip on her waist tightened and he pulled her onto his lap, wanting her closer to him, enjoying how she let him hold her, touch her and kiss her. Just being with her was enough.

“I missed you too, my love. And I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving you enough attention.” Nikolai whispered nuzzling her nose with his making her chuckle since she was ticklish.

 “Don’t be silly, Nik. I am no one, just one rowdy Grisha.”

“You.” he pecked her lips again “are everything. My love. My bride. And the queen to be.”

“Ugh….”

“Still don’t like that?”

“I don’t think I’m the queen material.” She squirmed in his lap and it made him a bit too excited “I hate all that panoply and sumptuousness.”

“Do you even know me?” he groaned when she moved more “I’m the least pompous of my family. Do you remember our time on the Volkvolny? Definitely not a prince-like behavior back then.”

“Oh I remember some of that” she smirked locking hands on his neck and whispering in his ear “I also remember bringing the heat without using Inferni skills.”

“Uh… Um… yeah. You see, being a queen comes with one more benefit. “

“And what is that?” she feigned curiosity, even if the evidence was more than palpable

“You get to be the only person the king will kneel for….” He mumbled, kissing her cheek “Love.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I’ll leave with you with that thought.” With one single motion he moved her away and sat back next to him “maybe you won’t be hiding in the middle of the forest in the future.”

“I will. I definitely won’t stop on your account, love.” Y/N rolled her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. There would be time to tease him and get revenge later on. Judging by the circumstances it would be painfully easy to make him fulfill that promise. But not now. “Nik?” she whispered, calming down

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we just stay here for a while? I need some peace…. And I want you with me. Just like this.”

“If you think you can get rid of me now you’re crazy. I’m not going anywhere far from….”

“From what?”

“From the person I love.” He answered and just to accent and emphasize those words raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently.

At this moment she really wished she was a tidemaker or a squaller. She would definitely disobey all the rules of not messing with nature and will make it rain till the end of the world if it meant just being with him away from the world.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Four Crow Investigation II: Lovebirds' Outfox" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[Four Crow Investigation]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

SUMMARY: Nina and the rest of "crow-vestigators" are not as inconspicuous as they think. Being a little too spiteful for your own good, Kaz and you string them along. What the amateur detectives consider "evidence" of an affair is actually a well-thought-out scenario.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

You stare with amusement as Wylan, Jesper, Inej and Nina are sitting around the table in a hardly inconspicuous manner. They’re leaning so close to each other, their bodies are covering their faces but you don’t need to read their lips or expressions to know exactly what they’re talking about. Meaningful glances, small nudges, animated whispering - none of that escaped your attention.

Then, you feel Kaz squeezing your hand in an attempt to shift your focus from the gossiping friends back to him. His eyebrows are slightly raised in a silent question.

"Do you think they know that we know that they know?" you ask, cringing at the word salad filled with repetitions.

"No," Kaz answers without hesitation. "Considering how long it took them to notice something so obvious, their observation skills are more underwhelming than I had originally thought."

The two of you glance towards your friends once more, left to only guess what tall tales they were making up. Observation skills, Kaz’s voice resounds in your head. Yes, they are good at noticing things they are desperately looking for, so, maybe, if they are looking for crumbs…

"Actually, I have an idea,” you begin in a hushed tone.  Kaz turns to look at you, his expression hardens the moment he notices your mischievous grin. “Up for a bit of roleplay?"

It’s been a wild week for the four Crows. They sat down at a corner table, across the club from you and Kaz talking about something by the bar counter. Absorbed by the conversation, you’re pouring a drink in a record-long time. Your hand hovers above the rum bottle as you’re closely listening to Kaz saying something. Then, to the surprise of the gossip club, you erupt in laughter.

Jesper frowns. “I’m telling you, there’s two of them. She gets the nice Kaz, we get the mean one.”

“No, the mean Kaz is still inside,” Inej refutes. “The nice one is making an effort to bury him but he’s definitely in there. Saw it myself.”

He turns back towards the group. Jesper puts his finger up in a warning gesture and speaks slowly: “Do not tell me Kaz Brekker is a knight in shining armour because there is no way I’m treating that as anything but a bad joke. I’m barely believing the stuff I’ve seen with my own two eyes.”

“N-no, there is some truth to that,” Wylan interjects. “I didn’t see him get angry,” he quickly adds, ”just… strangely protective.”

“So we can agree,” Nina says with expected giddiness, “there is passion in the perpetually grim Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper squints his eyes with suspicion. “I hate the fact that you used passion and Kaz in the same sentence but at the same time I’m curious why.”

“Oh, you’re going to love it!” She taps the table excitedly. “I’ll go first.”

╚ Nina’s Evidence ╝

You’re pacing around the office, jumping from one leg to another, shaking and fidgeting as much as you can without making much noise. While preparing to fool the Heartrender’s power, you’re ensuring that you look the part:

“Is this obscene enough?” you ask unbuttoning your shirt further. Tugging at your clothing, you’re making yourself look even more disheveled. Even the smallest sound outside the office door makes you jump as you’re impatiently waiting for a certain creek of one of the steps.

Kaz doesn’t answer. His watchful eyes are following your movements as he’s focusing on keeping his attention on the task at hand. That bright mind of his, however, fights relentlessly to memorize your unkempt look instead.

Not hearing him respond to your question, you turn around to look at Kaz. Leaning against the desk, he’s just staring at you with a quite inexplicable intensity. His unspoken passion is only making the voice in the back of your head louder: what if it was Him undoing my shirt?

But you stifle this thought. It’s not the time for this. Searching for distraction, you look at Kaz’s collar - the first two buttons are undone but they make him appear more sleepy rather than caught red handed at a moment of weakness.

“May I?” you ask, gesturing towards his garment.

“Go ahead,” he quietly answers. There’s a lot of trust in his lack of movement and calmness about your closeness.

Carefully, you grab the hem of his collar and open his shirt further, while making sure your fingers do not even graze the bare skin underneath, despite the urge sitting deep inside your abdomen. Then, you take a step back, examining his general state and whether it sets a believable scene. A proud smile creeps onto your face.

“You’re really enjoying this,” Kaz states.

“Actually,” you say as you lean against the table, fairly unaware that because of your disheveled clothing your cleavage is significantly more visible, “I’d be enjoying this little scheme a lot more if we were in fact being scandalous.”

Whether that was your objective or not, Kaz’s heartbeat picks up noticeably, his rogue mind flashing explicit images before his eyes.

A creek of stairs.

You and Kaz give each other a meaningful glance and you push the paperweight off the desk, knowing that Nina can hear it. The door swings open and you’re immediately in character, looking away with the most embarrassed expression you could muster.

Kaz clears his throat. “Is there a reason why you’re barging in?”

Nina looks a bit lost, still piecing together what she might have just interrupted. “I… uhm… I talked with Lizzie Hardy. She’s in, we can count on her.”

“Understood,” he says in a low, firm voice. “Now go. And learn to knock.”

A half-grin enters her face as she gets rid of any doubts as to what the two of you had been presumably occupied with before she entered. With a skip to her step, Nina throws a “You bet I will!” before leaving the office. She’s quite sure no one will have a better gossip than her.

╚ Wylan’s Evidence ╝

Wylan is startled by your yelp of pain, almost dropping the delicate vial in his hands. His focus immediately shifts to you, who is now frowning with your hand raised slightly above your head. A string of curses leaves your mouth as you check the wound again - yes, still there and still bleeding.

Right, bleeding.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a worried tone. Part of you feels guilty for fooling Wylan because of the sheepiness he wears most of the time but, on the other hand, he is part of the gossip girl club. This little scheme is just a consequence of his choice.

“Yeah, no problem. I’m a big girl, I’ll just wrap this and I’ll be fine,” you answer casually.

Pretending to look for something that can work as a bandage, you’re praying that Wylan can’t smell the cranberry preserve slowly dripping down your forearm. There’s an urge deep inside you to lick the jam, almost tasting the sweet and sour fruit in your imagination.

Kaz, who was waiting for the well-played-out yelp, rushes into the room with a grim expression. The moment he’s supposed to notice your injury, he makes a show of dropping his shoulders. He’s not saying anything, only giving short sighs and annoyed grunts as he reaches for a random rag laying around. 

“I’d advise against cutting off your fingers,” he says loud enough for Wylan to hear as he’s tightening the wrapped rag around your palm. "You need to be more ca-" Kaz cuts himself off, suddenly realizing he was about to use an off-limits word. "You need to pay attention to what you're doing."

Looking over Kaz’s shoulder, you see Wylan nervously glancing at the two of you out of the corner of his eyes. Jesper is going to hear world-shattering news in the next hour - on that you can safely bet any number of limbs.

╚ Jesper’s Evidence ╝

Too busy retelling what he had learned while following Lizzie Hardy, Jesper doesn’t notice the tiny signal you give Kaz while the three of you are walking through the streets of Ketterdam.

Air, cobblestone, a lost dog - it doesn’t matter. You stumble over something but ever watchful Kaz manages to grab you by the waist, preventing you from falling. To be honest, until this moment you weren’t completely sure this is going to work out because you never practiced this with Kaz. Well, you did, once, but the two of you got significantly distracted early on. So the plan to outfox Nosy Jesper was a leap of faith - literally and figuratively.

Jesper, the man in question, halted his story as he’s watching the unbelievable occurrence of Kaz having a caring reflex. For a moment he considers whether this wasn’t some kind of miraculous coincidence but on the other hand, the movement looked so natural and purposeful that it simply had to be deliberate.

Standing on your own, you look towards Jesper, who’s still staring at you and Kaz with furrowed eyebrows and his mouth slightly agape. “You were saying?” you coax him to continue as though nothing happened.

“Yes, right, the thing,” he stutters out as he’s trying to remember what he was talking about before seeing something so strange he’s questioning his own sanity.

╚ Inej’s Evidence ╝

Due to the late hour, or rather an hour so late it can be considered early, the club is deserted except for you and Kaz sitting by the bar. He’s silently watching your profile as you’re applying another layer of theatrical paint and makeup.

“Does it look realistic?” you ask for the hundredth time while examining the bruise in a small hand-held mirror.

“It’s good enough.”

You set down the mirror and look at him. To a degree, you know he won’t agree to your proposition but you try anyway, just to make sure:

“Maybe you could hit me?” you suggest. His expression grows colder. “Just for good measure. To really sell this,” you add in your own defense, as though there is a possibility of him retaliating for such a ridiculous proposition. Even when furious beyond imagination, you’ve heard him yell exactly once out of anger.

He leans closer towards you. Paradoxically, it’s you who is uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy but maybe the uneasiness is not due to the proximity but the chilling tension that has sprouted between the two of you. Kaz studies your expression for a moment, his jaw relaxes and clenches over and over again as he’s clearly pondering the earthiest way he can put his thoughts into words.

“I will never raise my hand against you,” his voice is quiet and wavering with emotions, “even if my life depends on it. So don’t ask again. Ever.”

Suddenly, you feel strangely small next to him as though Kaz is but a shadow that quickly grows larger as candlelight dims. “Right, sorry,” you answer awkwardly.

The door to the club opens with a creek and the nervous conversation has to be cut short. You cover your face with hands, having rubbed some chili seeds into your palms earlier. As the capsaicin reaches your nostrils and eyes, forcing yourself to cry is easier than ever. Pretending to be agonizing over something, you keep reminding yourself not to actually touch your eyes or nose.

You can’t see her face but you’re sure Inej is wearing a worried or confused expression and you’re quite correct in your guess - she walks towards you and Kaz with apprehension as though she’s still wondering whether she wants to intrude. Inej momentarily grows anxious, noticing the vibrant bruise on the side of your face.

Then, in a truly dramatic fashion, Kaz gets up from the bar stool and storms out of the club as you had agreed beforehand. While he’s passing Inej, she calls out to him:

“Kaz-”

But he’s quick to cut her off in a harsh voice:

“Not now, Inej.”

The door closes behind him with a slam and considering the state of the two of you, she prefers not to ask questions. It will be easier to sleep at night.

“They’re staring,” you inform Kaz while pouring him a drink.

“As far as I know, they have a reason to,” he answers, taking a sip of the beverage. His eyes are boring into you like his trying to look past your skin and bones, into your mind if not your very soul.

A wide smile brightens your face. You lean on the counter, face close to Kaz’s. Although it’s been some time, it still makes your heart flutter that he doesn’t move away. Perhaps it’s just his unreadable expression or maybe he really is unbothered by the proximity.

“To be honest, I enjoyed our little theatrics.” Smiling at him, your teeth glisten in the dim light inside the club.

“You make an impressive con artist, I have to admit.”

“Ah, forget the con part,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “It was entertaining, alright, but the best part was just spending time with you.”

Kaz almost chokes on his drink.

____ @moonstruckpoet @shara-ne @queenkalico

[redamancyys]

All Around Me - Kaz Brekker

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, oral (fem recieving), cursing, unedited.

WORDS ◆ 3.7k

REQUEST(S) ◆ based off of this request, though i did stray a little. basically kaz and the reader have sex for the first time!

AUTHOR'S NOTE ◆ sooooo this ended up being a lot steamy-er than i intended, but i hope that you enjoy it, because i definitely liked writing this one!

To say that the desire was eating you both up from the inside was an understatement. 

Kaz had never wanted a person the way that he wanted you. It was a raw, carnal desire that came from deep within him. He had never been a person who ached for touch until he met you, he wished that he was able to be the man that could grab you by your hips without spiraling into a panic, or could kiss you for as long as you wanted without having to take a break because his internal thoughts were becoming too much to handle. 

You would always explain to him that it wasn’t his fault. 

Hushed whispers, your hands placed ever so carefully on his clothed body, trying to keep him grounded whenever the aversion got too bad. You had seen him at his worst, where he had to put his head in between his knees in order to stop the flashbacks from coming back to him. Though sometimes no matter how hard you tried, Kaz would morph back into that little boy again, feeling his brother's dead motionless flesh against his own as he floated back ashore. He would feel alone, no matter how much you tried to explain that you were here, he didn’t have to worry, he wasn’t there, he was safe.

And what was even worse, he felt like he was somehow disappointing you. He was with you, but you couldn’t even touch his bare skin without him spiraling into a mess. No matter how many times you explained that you were there for him, that you were always going to make sure that he was okay, there was still a piece of him that wished he was different. But Kaz’s wishes never came true, it would never magically go away. He had to face this head on if he was ever going to be able to properly love you, and for you, he was willing to try anything. 

That had been a few months ago, and since then the two of you had worked very hard to overcome his aversion. You went slow, placing bare hands against each other, small kisses, anything that you could think of that would be enough to help but also just enough to not make Kaz feel uncomfortable. It had gotten to the point where you two were able to cuddle with one another, his hands could go up and down your spine and paint small drawings on the skin of your arm and legs. And you could do the same towards him. After a while, you both were able to take your tops off, explore those parts of your bodies, and every time you went farther, the desire began to creep its way into both of your chests. Both of you were aware what the next step was, you both weren’t dumb, but neither of you had the inclination to talk about it. It was like the two of you were dancing around the conversation, doing everything that you could to not bring it up. 

Wylan and Jesper were always talking about it. Well, that was a lie, Jesper was usually the one that would talk about it with you. He always talked about the pining, the excitement of getting to explore your lover's body . . . it was something that you wanted but had never experienced before and before you knew it, you were sitting on your shared bed with Kaz, trying to concentrate on a book while he did his paperwork at his desk. You took a moment to stare at him, watching as his hands pressed against the paper, quill etching sounds into the silence between the both of you. You took your bottom lip into your teeth, sucking in a harsh breath. You could do this. 

“Kaz, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

You could’ve gone about it a different way, because the moment Kaz stopped what he was doing and turned to face you, there was a hint of worry in his expression. Most of the time when a person told another that they had to talk to them about something, it was bad news, and you were quick to assure him that it was nothing of the sort. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to bring an idea up to you.” His face immediately softened, one that you knew he didn’t share with many. You took a moment to study his expressive eyes, your own going from them to his lips, the ones that you wished were kissing the delicate skin on your body. Giving him a tiny smile, you said, “I wanted to see what you . . . thought about having sex with me? We’ve been getting to that point for a while now and I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to ask if you wanted to go all the way?” 

This was definitely something that he wasn’t expecting to come out of his mouth, especially because of the unspoken barrier between the both of you when it came to talking about these types of things. Of course he wanted to, saints, if he could he would take you right then and there but you and him knew that it would take a lot more mental preparation on his end for this to happen. And perhaps for a moment you thought that you had struck a nerve with him, that he would dismiss the idea and you would leave to compose yourself, but that was far from the truth. Instead he set down the quill and turned to face you completely, his gloved hands playing with one another as an attempt to ground. You didn’t move, eyes attentively staring, waiting for him to say something. Kaz eventually opened his mouth to say, “Of course I want to have sex with you.” He said it as though you were dumb thinking that he wasn’t, but you knew that this was his way of trying to guard himself from the actual thoughts that came into his head. “I think I just need a little time to prepare first-” “Yes! I know, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable first,” You cut him off, not wanting him to think that you were going to pressure him. 

Soon enough you two were discussing the logistics, almost as if you were scheduling a business meeting of a sort. It made you chuckle at first, but as the days went by, closer to the date that the two of you planned to finally go the final step, your nerves began to jumble up. 

~

You sat down at the edge of his bed, very reminiscent of a few days ago when you popped the question, but instead of Kaz sitting at his desk, he was sitting beside you. His breathing was slightly rigid, he was nervous which you completely understood. In order to comfort him, you placed your hand on his gloved one, looking at him with a look of kindness in an attempt to show him that you were nervous too. 

“I love you,” You said to him. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

One finger at a time, you began to pull his gloves off of his hand, and then the other one, setting the pair onto the bedside table. You held one of his hands with yours while the other one made its way to the back of his neck, pressing soft kisses to his lips. Kaz responded by putting his hand on your waist, eagerly kissing you back. He pulled you closer to him, until you got the idea of straddling his waist, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap. This kissing went on for a while, semi for comfort but also for pleasure, as you knew that you would never get tired of kissing Kaz Brekker. His lips tasted like honeyed tea and you relished in the notion that you would be the only one who ever got to taste such a sweet thing. 

You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. That familiar feeling that bubbled up inside of you whenever you two got this far began to resurface, causing the kissing to become even more fast paced, filled with want and need. Though the most enjoyable part was that the two of you were having fun, taking moments to stop and admire one another. For a moment a sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and tentatively went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his chest with calm and courteous fingers, not wanting to upset him, though clearly beginning to fog up the idea of being gentle. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements. He was beautiful, and you were sure that you would never allow him to forget it. 

Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Kaz began mouthing along your skin, knowing that your neck was sensitive in a multitude of places and skimming your skin with his teeth ever so gently, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Kaz went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot. 

You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You hadn’t been with others before, never trying to get this far with the men of Ketterdam for fear of ruin or awkwardness in the morning. You had only longed for Kaz before. 

His hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what? Maybe you had made him uncomfortable, and he was trying to come up with a way to tell you off. 

Though that didn’t seem to be the case when Kaz’s lips offered a smirk. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” Kaz explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you. 

You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, no one else, the two of you were doing this amazing thing together. Your heart swelled with adoration as you thought that this was the man that you loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone else in the entire world. You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Kaz seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste . . .” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.” 

“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Kaz smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Kaz built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” He said, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “To see you under me like this.” The both of you seemed to have this desire for each other for the longest time. 

You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again. It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “You make me feel so good, Kaz.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more . . .

He pulled his hand away from you. Kaz didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers. But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Kaz would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this. 

Kaz’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs. 

“Kaz,” You whispered. “Please.” 

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do. You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you. He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.

“Please . . . Fuck me Kaz. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure. With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Kaz took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you. 

You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed. 

You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered. 

“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Kaz didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up. The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver. 

“You feel so good,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect , like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath. 

Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Kaz saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out. Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Kaz wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you. 

The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you. 

[jazzythursday]

Jesper doesn't understand how he holds it all in there. Wylan’s brain is like a squirrel. Packing nuts into expanding pockets for the long winter. He knows everything.

He lights up with it. Like he constantly wants to share the fruit of his labour. Like the knowledge he collects needs to be poured out in bits before it overflows. He talks and explains and it’s fast and free and it’s so Wylan, through and through— and then it’s like he catches himself. Like he dims once he realises what he’s done.

Jesper doesn’t want to think of the implications of that look. Because it makes his chest tight and puts a bad taste in his mouth. He’s happy to reassure Wylan that he likes when he talks as much as it takes for him to believe it.

But that look— right before. Like he’s so happy to be telling him, like he’s happy to be listened to. Then the split second of frozen fear. The pinched lips, tense jaw, widening and then squinting of those big, big eyes. The part where he huffs that short, horribly self deprecating little laugh. The part where he looks down, and when he looks back up there’s something stiff in his smile, false in the upturn of his lips. Eyes like cut glass shining in the light. The crest of an eagle, mid flight, shot down. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Um— I’m probably boring you. I’ll stop.”

You could never bore me, he thinks. Keep talking forever, he thinks. Tell me who made you think your words weren't worth anything to anyone so I can make them taste the blood on their own tongue.

Wylan and boring are not two words that Jesper can even fathom placing in the same sentence. Wylan is like lightning in a bottle. Like a spark personified.

Jesper isn’t sure how much he’ll accept. He doesn’t want a repeat of Shu Han if he can help it. Jesper hates disappointing people, hates being anything other than exactly what they want— expect— out of a good time with Jesper Fahey. He isn’t sure what he’s allowed to argue for or against when it comes to Wylan. What they have— This thing between them— is still so terrifyingly new.

He’ll put himself out there for this, though, as much as he dares, to make sure Wylan knows that he’s listening.