#crowely x reader
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Good omens reference đ± /j
#good omens 2#good omens crowley#good omens#crowly x aziraphale#anthony j crowley x reader#anthony j crowley#crowley#crowely x reader#aziraphale x reader#aziraphale#azirafell#azriaphale good omens#crowley good omens
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Tv Shows & Movies
Platonic-đ©” Â Yandere-đ§ĄÂ Smut-† Fluff-đ©· Â Angst-đ€
Reiji Sakamaki
Nightmare Not Reality đ©·
Rick Sanchez
Yandere ABC's đ§Ą
Silas
What Is Wrong With You đ§Ą
Sherlock
Platonic Sherlock HC's đ©”đ©·
Poly!Mikaelsons
Birthday Presents You're the Gift â€
Beetlejuice
Say it Again â€
Daniel Molloy
Sunglasses đ©·
Coming Soon~ Damon Salvatore, Elijah Mikaelson, Poly Mikaelsons, Jim Moriarty, Aziraphale, Crowley, Poly Ineffable Husbands, Spencer Reid, Jason Gideon, Poly Bau, Poly Sakamakis, Gregory House, Ghostface, Micheal Myers, Lydia Deetz, Poly IWTV,
#diabolik lovers x reader#bbc sherlock x reader#tvd x reader#the originals x reader#aziraphale x reader x crowley#spencer reid x reader#jason gideon x reader#poly bau x reader#poly sakamaki#crowely x reader#aziraphale x reader#poly mikaelson#beetlejuice x reader#iwtv x reader
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/nâs a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
#y/n#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#cod x reader#konig x reader#cod x y/n#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#konig x y/n#harry potter x y/n#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#six of crows x reader#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey x y/n#wylan van eck x reader#fanfiction#fluff#angst#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#alastor x y/n#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x y/n#the umbrella academy x reader#five hargreaves x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader#mcntseesrandoms
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Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later
Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...
Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now
Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with đ€
You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira canât do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.
âPlease try this out, (y/n). Donât hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nauseaâ, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.
âDonât get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, Iâm so glad when this pregnancy is overâ, you huff while taking a deep breath in.
Please, donât vomit all over the insect pillar whoâs just trying to help. Youâve been here what feels like everyday since finding out youâre pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.
Because of your never-ending sickness.
âOh, thereâs nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But Iâm sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!â
âHe definitely does. My husband is an angelâ, you reply in an instant.
You canât wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes wonât be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you werenât able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemiâs part in the on-going hashira training until now, you canât wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.
âNot quite the codename Iâd use for him, but thatâs just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten meâ, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.
âThank you for your help. Again.â
You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you canât hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.
âCome on, (y/n). Why are you crying?â, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.
âIâm just a little overwhelmed from everything I guessâ, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.
Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, youâve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isnât always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.
Right?
-at the wind hashira estate-
âWe are almost there. Are you feeling alright?â
âOh, donât worry about me. Iâm just a little tired from walking, thatâs all!â
Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who donât even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And thereâs still so much ahead.
âLooks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-samaâs hospital wingâ, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.
âWas it really that bad?â
Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate arenât thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But stillâŠ
âIt was pretty bad. Some of the-â
Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldnât leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, itâs still daytime. But what is it?
âHeâs back! Heâs back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that youâve fainted!â, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.
âWhat are you talking about? Whatâs going on here?â, you press out.
Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.
Until your eyes find Genya.
Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldnât be here. Out of all people, it shouldnât be him. And whoâs the boy next to him. That familiar scar, youâve seen that boy before. Is it possible thatâŠ
âKamado Tanjiroâ, you breathe out.
Maybe that is even worse.
Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Whereâs Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that theyâre here, carry on with another hashira training.
âPlease stop now!â, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.
An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.
Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiroâs sister.
But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.
In this very moment, youâd trust him to actually kill them.
âWhat are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?â, Tanjiro continues passionately.
Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart canât take it, knees threaten to fail you.
âHell no, Iâm not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since itâs against the rules and allâŠIâm going to ruin him beyond recovery!â
Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.
Straight towards the two boys.
Straight into the firing line.
Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.
âYou wonât do any of these things, you hear me?â, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.
â(y/n)â, Genya breathes behind you.
âHow dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?â
The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.
âGet lost. Right nowâ, he hisses through gritted teeth.
You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isnât playing, that he doesnât want you here.
Maybe itâs best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he wonât kill them, after allâŠ
âIâm not leavingâ, you bite back.
But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.
âWill you act out like this towards our child as well?â, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.
He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesnât mean youâll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.
âIf our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!â
Oh.
Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.
Until now.
âIs this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-â
âSpare me with that bullshit, (y/n)â, Sanemi spits at you.
âGet.out.of.the.way. Canât you hear me?â
Itâs like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though itâs hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?
âStop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-â
âRight now, youâre my problemâ, he jeers back.
âAnd now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-â
You donât know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.
The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you canât stop your tears from falling anymore.
âIs this how youâre acting around your pregnant wife by now, how youâll treat innocent children? If thatâs the live you chose, Iâm not a part of it anymoreâ, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.
And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Is this really the man you love, that youâd give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.
You canât stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesnât feel like home anymore.
-a few hours later-
âFuck!â, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.
Why canât he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.
But why did he say all those dumb things, then?
âYou seem off, Shinazugawaâ, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.
âI guess I fucked upâ, Sanemi mumbles.
What if you wonât forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.
âI bet you can talk your way out of it-â
âHell nah. I donât think she wants to see me tonight.â
âDid you ask her, though?â
âWho the hell do you think you are anyway? Youâre the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuriâ, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.
âBut yeah, maybe I should get goingâŠâ
Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if youâre still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if youâll really leave him?
Sanemiâs guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He canât lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.
Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally heâs able to make up for his mistakes of today-
His eyes widen in sheer horror.
Youâre gone.
Right there where your head should rest, thereâs absolutely nothing.
Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.
Did you leave?
He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you arenât there. You arenât here.
âMy lady is at the love hashiraâs estate.â
Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.
âIs she fine, why did she-â
âWith all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-â
âWho the hell do you even think you are you-â
âYour earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.â
Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.
Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldnât have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?
âI need to tell herâ, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.
-at Mitsuriâs-
âI canât believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.â, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.
Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuriâs estate is near by and you just know sheâll always open her arms for you.
âThank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really donât deserve your kindnessâ, you sniffle.
âYou have to be joking, (y/n)! Itâs my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-â
Three violent knocks on Mitsuriâs wooden door almost send you over the edge. Itâs past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuriâs door this late at night?
âDo you think thatâs a demon?â, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.
âI donât think so. Letâs see!â
Before youâre able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.
And reveals no other than your husband.
âSanemiâ, you breathe out.
Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesnât want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that youâre here?
â(y/n), can weâŠhave a talk?â, he mumbles with icy voice.
âDo you want to leave me?â, you blurt out.
âWhat?â
Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That heâll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.
âI think Iâm going out andâŠcook!â, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.
Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.
âYou have to be kidding meâ, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
You turn away before you lose your composure completely.
âWhy are you here, Sanemi?â
âDo you really think Iâm here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You canât be fucking serious about that!â
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.
âPlease, let me go, I canât do this ri-â
â(y/n), please.â
His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.
Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.
Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?
âIâm sorry for all the shit Iâve said, Iâm sorry for making you feel this way. Iâd never leave you, not when Iâm even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldnât have dragged you into this, I justâŠI just canât stand themâŠâ
âSanemiâŠâ
âAnd I get that I donât deserve you and that Iâm a jerk for hurting you. I know you couldâve had every man you wanted-â
âSanemi!â, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.
âBut youâre the one I wantâ, you finally cry out.
âBut your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think Iâm a burden?â
âI was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! Youâre my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. YouâreâŠYouâre my wife, right?â
That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.
âI am your wifeâ, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.
âIâm so sorry, (y/n). So so sorryâ, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.
âAnd Iâll never talk to you like that again, I promise.â
âWill you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?â
Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemiâs rough side as well, he simply canât do something like this again. Not when youâre his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.
âI will. But only if these jerks leave me aloneâ, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.
âThat might be manageable. I want to go home nowâŠâ
âNo problem, Iâll carry you-â
âYou really donât have to carry me-â
âOh, but I sure as hell will.â
âHAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DONâT ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!â
âDid you have to tell her everything?â
âSheâs my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.â
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt
#readers crow is my spirit animal#kny#kny x reader#hashira training arc#kny x you#kny x y/n#kny angst to fluff#kny angst#kny fanfic#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kimetsu x you#kimetsu sanemi#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi headcanons#sanemi angst#sanemi fluff
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The 141 boys having to physically hold back their much smaller but freakishly strong female teammate or S /O when someone is stupid enough to insult her and/or her boys
!!fem!reader!! â can interpreted as platonic or romantic
âFuckinâ hell, heyââ Price hisses as he stumbles, his arm wrapped around one of yours as Soap holds onto your other arm. Theyâre both in stances to hold you back yet despite your size, BOTH of them are struggling. Soap lets out a grunt as you struggle, nearly ripping yourself out of their grips. âLet go of me, lemme show that son of a bitch a piece of my mindââ
Gaz steps in front of your line of sight, holding his hands up as if heâs calming a wild animal. âHeyy, letâs just calm down, yeah? Their words arenât worth anything, sweetheart.â You look at him desperately, your tone still filled with frustration and rage. âThey have no right to say what they fucking said, Gaz! How could you let that slide?? And in front of the other recruââ
Your angry yelling is cut off with a familiar large, warm hand wrapping around the back of your neck and squeezing. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, the anger still stirring but no longer boiling overâyou stop struggling. âTake a deep breath, love.â Ghost rumbles from behind, causing the hair on the nape of your neck to stand up against his gloved palm.
You obey, taking a deep breath. âGood, now breathe out slowly.â Price says lowly, his voice closer than normalâhe mustâve stepped closer. âThatâs it, lass. Good, another?â Soap utters, making you nod. You take another deep breath and as you do, you feel a handâGazâs, as the hand is coming from in front of youâtouch your cheek and then your forehead.
âThere we go.â Ghost hums, letting go of your neck. You open your eyes and the other two let go of you, Gaz putting his hand on your shoulder. âBetter?â Gaz asks softly, making you nod in response. âBetter.â You confirm, causing Soap to chuckle. âNearly ripped my arm off, bonnie. Keep that strength in check, why dontâcha?â
#141 blurb#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#141 x reader#task force 141#soap x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#call of duty#call of duty mwii#cod mw2#cod#mw2022#modern warfare ii#mw2 2022#crowâs thoughts#price x reader
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The crows I've been feeding have started leaving me money as gifts lol. It's got me thinking about Yandere crow hybrid who likes to hang around your home. You feed the local birds, just tossing out seed every night, and you never really expect much to come out of it.
MDNI! Dead dove do not Eat!
Tw. Noncon, stalking, monsterfucking, yandere, size difference
Yandere crow who creeps around in the dead of night while you aren't paying attention to you balcony or yard, lest you see the looming, unnerving figure of a large man with shifting obsidian feathers and too sharp teeth. He's patient and only creeps out from beyond the treeline when the sun starts to set, the smaller birds get their fill for the most part, and you aren't able to see him.
At first he didn't care for you all that much, thinking of you as just some faceless human, but then he started to lurk around your house more and more. Maybe you thought that there were more birds coming than there actually were, because Yandere Crow noticed that you were putting out more seed than usual. You were just attentive like that.
Yandere Crow found himself lurking around your windows more often. He liked to peer in and watch you move about your little home. Your home looked so cozy, and his feathers ruffled at the thought of having such a warm, inviting nest. He felt an odd itch to add his own touches to your house. After all, this was his territory. No other corvid was going to come to this specific place unless he allowed them to, and he was feeling a bit protective of this little feeding spot. It totally wasn't because you were so tiny compared to him, or the fact that you were all alone without him there to guard your property.
Yandere Crow who starts to leave you little shiny trinkets. You think that some of the other birds brought them for you, but despite the fact that he knows you're unaware of him, he finds great pride in you laying out the shiny rocks, coins, ribbons and shells he so meticulously picked out.
Yandere Crow who starts drooling and imagining how pretty you'd be cuddled up beside him with soft downy feathers, blankets, and glittering objects surrounding you both. It was such an alluring fantasy that it almost made him forget that you were human and not just another, regular potential mate.
Yandere Crow who starts fucking his fist and cums on your windows, walls, and doorstep. He hopes that once you smell the musky scent, you'll start getting used to his presence.
Yandere Crow who can't take it anymore, and he breaks into your house one evening. He stands there in your kitchen, drinking in just how sweet and perfect you smell. His feathers rustle and brush up against doorways and walls as he follows his nose to find where you are all curled and fast asleep. He croons softly and looms over your pliant form. The talons on his feet tap impatiently on the ground, clunking against hollow wooden floors. He was shifting and shuddering in excitement. He's never been this close to you before, and now that you were here, face cradled in his claws,
You start to stir. Your eyes flutter open, and they widen in shock. He can see the terror filling out your features, and he feels his cock stiffen. Even as he clamps his hand over your cheeks and mouth to stop you from screaming, you're perfect to him. Maybe he wished you were a bit stronger instead of the cute, fragile little thing you are, but then he wouldn't be able to pin you down and hold you like this, would he?
Yandere crow who thinks you look so pretty in the moonlight. It makes you look like you're glowing as he spears you on a dick that's nearly the size of your whole torso. He purrs praises into your ears as you squeal and cry out.
"Shhh, you have to get used to it," He chides and thrusts his hips into you. Your poor, twitching entrance is stretched out past the point of what must be comfortable, and he does feel a twinge of guilt. He didn't properly court you, nor did he really prepare you to be fucked so thoroughly. He nuzzles his face into your hair in an apologetic manner. "But you're doing so good already for me. Just keep taking it."
Yandere Crow who keeps you trapped like that for hours. He likes being lounged across your bed while he holds you tightly against his chest. His favorite sight is the one of your fucked out, drooling face being smushed up on his chest. He can't help but chirp happily. He's made you cum so many times, and your hole is all sloppy and stuffed chalk full of him cum. It's so much that you can't reasonably clean it all out, and the thought fills him with a sense of satisfaction.
Yandere crow who is perfectly happy knowing that of all the birds you've cared for, he's the only one who's been able to get this special treatment from you.
#my writing#yandere#yandere x reader#tw yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#x reader#male yandere#yandere hybrid#yandere crow hybrid#yandere crow#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#yandere monster#terato
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Crow family Pt. MC's spouse đ
Luke: Why is Boss crying on the floor?
Kieran: He's drunk.
Luke: And?
Kieran: Boss saw a picture of MC's spouse.
Luke: But Boss is MC's spouse.
Kieran: I know.
#incorrect quotes#love and deepspace#crack post#lads#lads mc#lnds mc#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#crow family#love and deepspace mc#love and deepspace luke & kieran#love and deepspace luke and kieran#lnds luke & kieran#lnds luke and kieran#lads luke & kieran#lads luke and kieran#luke & kieran#love and deepspacd luke and kieran#luke and kieran#sylus x mc#sylus x reader
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is this a safe space?
the crow 2024
#black fem reader#black reader smut#the crow#bill skarsgÄrd#bill skargard#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skÄrsgard#bill skarsgard x reader#bill skarsgard smut#bill skarsgard imagine#bill skarsgard icons#goth#gothic#dark romance#dark romanticism#dark romantica#dark core gothique#need him in my mouth#i need a man#need him#need someone to literally come back from the dead and avenge me
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Could you do a crow hybrid bf hc with human reader?
He really enjoys bringing you shiny things and receiving shiny things in return! If you gift him something expect a gift in return on your windowsill the next afternoon.
When trying to court you, heâll do little dances, singing for you and trying to nuzzle his nose against yours. Heâll fluff up his feathers trying to impress you, but will get shy when you nuzzle him back.
Heâs got a tendency to follow you around, flying overhead when you go into town, swooping down to land at your side, staring menacingly at anyone that dares to take up too much of your time.
During sex heâs kind of a mess, clinging to you tightly as his wings flutter and his cock fucks into you. He makes the cutest little noises, attempting to preen and groom you while heâs pushing you into a mating press. He canât help but hold onto your pretty plump hips as he fills your fat pussy with cum!
Just a very sweet boyfriend! Loves gift giving/receiving and affection!
#crow hybrid#crow hybrid x reader#crow hybrid smut#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#anon ask#ask answered#monster bf#monster x human#monster smut#monster fucking#teratophillia#terat0philliac#terato#exophelia#fat reader#plus size reader
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you're my drug (eric draven x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, sexual imagery, foul language, mentions of drugs/tobacco
summary: after you got caught making out with Eric at rehab, everything suddenly spirals into something much deeper
word count: 5,022 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3
a/n: this is part two of draw you! enjoy!!<3
As I stood in the courtyard, kicking some rocks along during my lap around the premises, I couldn't help but wonder when I would see Eric again. It had been a week since we were caught making out in his room, and I had just gotten out of a two-day solitary confinementâ it was definitely a harsher punishment than expected. Then again, I should've known; this place was an absolute shithole.Â
The worst part of the ordeal was having to write down my feelings and get another check from the warden, along with questions about whether or not I was a nymphomaniac. Excuse me?
Had Eric gotten a harsher repercussion than me? Maybe he had been moved to a different rehabilitation center? I didn't want to think about it. Again, I shouldn't be worrying about a stranger I barely knew. It was a little reckless of me to care for someone who had drawn me nakedâ now that I wasn't in a state of arousal, it dawned on me how creepy that actually was.
But then again... IÂ had been the one to jump him. That was on me. Had I not offered up, I wouldn't feel so attached to him.Â
... Maybe I was a nymphomaniac? Fuck.
So when I eventually lost track of where I had kicked my stone, I started looking for new ones. And it was during my hunt for entertainment that I eventually spotted a familiar tall figure entering the courtyard.Â
Eric's cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him, and I couldn't help the guilt that immediately seeped into my system. He seemed much darker than I remembered, the green in his eyes no longer having that playful shimmer I could spot from far away. However, when he spotted me on his way through the courtyard with a guard by his side, something changed in Eric. The flush in his cheeks returned, his eyes widened, and I could see the faint remnants of the smile that had etched itself into my mind for nights on end. But when he met my gaze, he looked away in a flash-- was he afraid we'd be caught staring at each other again?
I couldn't even control the way I immediately jumped into action as the guards left Eric's side, and I made my way to him with a confident stride. "Well, if it isn't Michelangelo?" I said, approaching with a smile. Seeing him in the flesh again made the tips of my fingers tingle, a certain excitement building in my system. "Where have you been? Did they put you in confinement too?"
But the smile I had seen in him earlier wasn't there anymore-- he turned to me, face blank. Eric blinked twice, watching me as though he didn't know why I was talking to him at all, his nose scrunching up.Â
My pulse quickened as my anxiety rose; what was happening?Â
"We shouldn't be talking," Eric eventually mumbled, looking away. His green eyes darted towards the guards on duty, wary of their movements. It didn't take long before he started walking away from me, which in turn left me stunned.Â
I wondered whether I had said something wrong as I watched him join a few guys that were working out, and I had to take a deep breath to ground myself. Â Everything about this made me feel like a complete and utter idiot-- I turned away from Eric, rubbing my temples as I made my way back inside. This was giving me a bigger headache than the ones I would get after coming down from a high.
This definitely felt similar to that; the crushing feeling. Having Eric dismiss me like that after what we had done felt more painful than usual, now that I couldn't dull down my feelings with anything.Â
I walked back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Everything about this made my whole body ache, and I couldn't understand why I even cared to this degree.Â
Had I been so delusional as to think Eric felt something for me too?
Later that night, I didn't care to come out for the last meal. Something told me I'd be staring at Eric again and that he'd dismiss me once more, and I didn't know if I could take it. I hadn't missed drugs as much as now-- everything about this situation reminded me of how I ended up here in the first place.
As I lay in my bed, hoping to fall asleep and wake up a new woman, I was dragged out of my sleepy state when I heard a light shuffling sound coming from my door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before my gaze slowly darted towards the commotion.Â
There it was. A note?
I went to pick it up, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest in anticipation. The paper was familiar, like rough velvet to my fingers, and the same size as a page from a notebook. The smile that crept up my lips was impossible to suppress-- I turned the paper to see a new drawing of me, made in the same scratchy style as the previous ones I had seen.Â
It was an image of me laying in a bed, my eyes hidden in the crook of my arm, lips parted as though I was drawing in a big breath. The pink jumper I was pictured in was a lot bigger than mine; I suspected it was supposed to be Eric's. From the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, my legs dangling halfway off the bed.Â
I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my chest rise as my heart skipped a beat-- it was beautiful. Completely breathtaking. And in the corner to the upper right, there was a scribbled message with boyish writing that was hard to understand;
messy mornings. let's have those someday? xx
My smile only spread, and I let out a shaky breath of relief as I leaned my forehead against my door, pressing the drawing tightly against my chest. The joy that coursed through my veins reminded me of the same euphoric feeling I'd get from doing a certain type of drug-- I wasn't sure whether it was good for me or not to be feeling these things, but I knew I was addicted already.Â
Was Eric maybe addicted to me as well? Was the incident in the courtyard just something he did in front of the guards, straying away from trouble?
I couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, I had gotten confirmation that he definitely thought about me too, and that was all I needed.
ïœĄïŸâąâàšâĄà§ââą ïœĄïŸ
I could swear it was the same as getting high-- seeing Eric, I mean. It was especially exhilarating knowing he was right in front of me, but that I couldn't say a word to him.Â
We were currently in a typical meeting, a group of people sitting in a circle trying to work through why they had started drinking or using. I hated these gatherings the most; I wasn't the biggest fan of airing out my life to strangers.Â
But today was different. Eric had joined my group, even though his meeting usually took place later in the evening. I felt the air seep out of my lungs the second I spotted him in the door, watching him with eyes wider than expensive plates of china as he sat down on the chair opposite me in the circle, locking his gaze on me.Â
And there he sat, in a casual manspread as he twiddled his thumbs, waiting his turn. His dark mullet had grown out a little, the hair on his forehead inching closer to his eyes with each week he was here. It was easy to get lost when I stared at him for too long, hypnotized by his tall build and his green, green eyes darting right back at me. The smirk playing across his lips mirrored mine, both of us feeling the tension thicken between us despite knowing our minds should be elsewhere at this moment.
I had gotten so swept up with Eric that I nearly jumped out of my chair when my name was called. My eyes frantically ripped themselves off of him, finding the guidance counselor with a confused look. What question was I supposed to answer?Â
The counselor cleared her throat; "How are you planning to change your habits once you get out of rehabilitation?"
Oh. I had no idea. Flustered, I ended up shrugging, avoiding Eric's amused gaze. "I think... I might have to work on my impulses. So I guess I will try to make sure I don't give in to bad habits by..." I realized I was completely lost, and it made my cheeks flush. "By doing, uh... Doing breathing exercises?"
My eyes snapped toward the sound that came from the other end of the room-- I watched as Eric clasped a hand over his mouth, head hanging low to hide his blatant amusement. Was that a snort I heard? I had to actively bite back a smile from forming, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a force I had never used before.
The counselor cleared her throat, clearly unhappy with the direction this was heading. "Yes, Eric? Do you have anything to say?"
His green eyes darted up from his lap, and it was obvious that he was biting down on the inside of his cheek. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself as though he was thinking. "Well, if you're asking me the same question, I think I plan to surround myself with people I love. I think that's where it went wrong the last time,"Â
I held my breath-- I hadn't expected him to say that. And I had most certainly not expected Eric's eyes to find me immediately after, realizing his pupils had widened the second they landed on me.Â
I didn't try to suppress my smile this time. I let it happen, watching as Eric smiled right back with a shimmer in his eyes.Â
Something told me I was actually going to get something good out of group therapy.
ïœĄïŸâąâàšâĄà§ââą ïœĄïŸ
... It dawned on me a few days later that I didn't have much time left in rehab. It also happened to dawn on me at the exact moment another drawing slipped under my door, right around the time I was ready to go to bed.Â
It was probably the fifth one this week, and I had laid them out neatly on my nightstand. Every image was as beautiful as the last one-- two of me in bed, one of me out in the courtyard again, and one of me during a group session falling asleep on Eric's shoulder. It warmed my heart to think that he had thought about that imagery when we had sat opposite each other a few days ago. Actually, everything about this warmed my heart.
However, today's drawing caught me off-guard. Today, it was a nude one--Â deja vu. My eyes locked on the image of me in what looked like Eric's room, gripping his hair as his head was dipped between my legs. One hand was clasped over my chest, and the other one was digging its fingers into my thigh, holding me down. Everything about it made my heart stop, letting out a laboured breath at the sight.Â
As always, there was a small message in the upper right corner;
in an alternative universe, there wouldn't be guards outside and there would be no stopping us. Â can't wait to taste you xx
My hands gripped the paper, almost to the verge of curling it. It felt as though my body was actively on fire, a need ripping its way through my chest. And it was this exact feeling that had me rushing to put the drawing away before bolting out my door, knowing Eric couldn't have gone too far.Â
Thankfully, I had been right. I spotted Eric further down the hall, towering over the people passing him. It was impossible not to notice the tattoos poking up from under his pink jumper, and something about it made my heart race even faster-- I so desperately wanted to see everything. Feel him beneath the pads of my fingertips.Â
And I burned. Burned, burned, burned up. And I kept on burning as I sped down the hallway, hearing the loud clacking of my shoes echo through the space along with the thumping of my heart. "Eric!"
Hearing his name, Eric turned around, eyes wide in surprise. "Hey, you," he murmured, brows knitting together as though he was about to scold me. "Thought you were sleeping?"
I finally caught up to him, quickly scanning our surroundings, realizing we were alone.Â
"... Are you here to return the drawing?" Eric asked, tilting his head to the side as he scanned the look on my face. A nervous smile spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes flickered around the hallway. "Might've been a little much, sure, but you didn't seem to mind it the last time?--"
His words trailed off as the small hand tugging at his jumper caught his attention. Eric's eyes rounded out, immediately understanding what I was getting at. When he leaned down, I let out a shaky breath before I flung my arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.
I had hoped it would satiate the burn ravaging my body, but it didn't. As Eric's big arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, the fire only spread. My hands barely had time to go up into his hair, tugging softly at his dark locks, before he pulled away with an airy chuckle. "You'll get us in trouble again,"
That's true-- "Fuck,"Â was the only thing I managed to say.Â
Humming, Eric glanced down the hall before pulling my hand into his, intertwining our fingers as he led me away. I was glad it was almost time for bed, seeing as there were barely any people out in the hallway and the guards were relaxing outside on their cigarette break. A familiar dulling of my brain seeped into my system as I remembered the smell of their cigarettes gliding into my room from outside-- I missed nicotine. But Eric was better than any cigarettes. Better than anything I had ever taken before. No high could match the one I would get from locking eyes with him, getting a drawing under my door, or the feeling currently coursing through my veins as he led me into a desolate stairwell. "This will do for now," he muttered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'll make sure to bring you somewhere nice when we're both out of here."
As my back hit the wall, I couldn't suppress my growing smirk as Eric neared me. The last time we had stood like this, had been right before he left my room after we made out. Seeing how tall he was, casting a shadow as he towered over me, I let out a sigh of joy; I had missed this. I had missed him. There was nothing that could make me happier than being alone with him. "I'm getting out of here soon, actually,"
Eric hummed as he placed his hand against the wall next to my head, his green eyes locking with mine. I wasn't too afraid to show my burning state-- he watched my lips part as I stared up at him, and I watched his jaw clench as he tried to digest the look in my eyes.
Sex. I was giving him those bedroom eyes that always worked on every guy I had ever been with. My eyes got all glassy, my thick lashes hanging low. I was quite sure I would let him fuck me right here if he wanted to-- I was past the point of caring who caught us.Â
"Soon, you say? How soon?" Eric asked, leaning down to press two separate kisses against the corners of my mouth.Â
I had to control the way my breath hitched before I answered; "A week and a half,"
Nodding, Eric's fingers brushed against my lips, pressing into the skin as he watched my expression with a heated one of his own. His thumb dipped past my lips, brushing against the tip of my tongue. "I'm out in three,"Â
I smiled before wrapping my mouth softly around his thumb, watching a breath escape him as his green eyes locked on the sight. Eric leaned down to kiss my cheek, watching as they flushed when he pulled his finger out of my mouth. "Where can I find you when we're out?"
"You seriously think I would leave this place without giving you my address?"
"Okay, good," Eric chuckled, his eyes rounding out with a newfound softness. "Because I think I'll need you out there more than I need you now."
What? I swallowed, biting down on my lower lip. Did he reciprocate the way I was feeling these things? I wondered whether he also felt the pit of fire in his stomach, whether he couldn't breathe whenever I wasn't around, and whether thoughts of me also wreaked havoc through his mind in every waking moment.Â
Eric's eyes lowered, taking in my stunned silence. "Honestly, I thought this was purely a lust thing, but... I've come to realize it's not just that. The one thing rehab has taught me, is that I need to break my habits, so here I am. Not running,"
I hadn't smiled this brightly in years. "Eric?"
A hum.
"I feel the same way," I reached out for his face, glad he had bent down a little to make it possible. "I'm quite sure I've gone mad, but standing with you here feels better than any drugs I've ever taken. And quite frankly, that drawing... Fuck, that was quite something." A breathy giggle escaped me, watching as Eric met my gaze with a smirk playing across his plush, pink lips. "That shit was hot. You're so fucking talented, do you know that?"
Eric freed his lower lip from his teeth, inching closer to gently nudge his nose against me. "Nope, I definitely don't know that. Completely oblivious. Which is why I need you around to tell me that, once in a while,"
"I'll tell you every day, if you want," I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of our closeness.Â
"Good," Eric whispered against my lips, his hands now grabbing at my waist, pressing himself closer to me. "And I'll eat you out every day. Deal?"
I was quite sure I was going to faint. Remember the drawing, I couldn't wait for our time to come. "Sounds like better therapy than anything they've done for me here,"
"Definitely,"Â
I smiled, giving his dark hair a tug, pulling Eric against me to connect our lips in a passionate kiss.Â
How we had gone from staring at each other to this, I had no idea. How it became this enormous feeling burning through my body, I couldn't guess the answer. But the one thing I knew, was that it felt right-- being with Eric like this felt right. Correct. Perfect.Â
As our kisses grew with hunger, resembling that one evening on Eric's bed, my body began to grow flushed as his hands dipped beneath my pink jumper, traveling up my torso with a fiery need to be close. "Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling away, panting just slightly.
I nodded, unable to wipe the grin off my face as my sweater got discarded somewhere on the floor, licking my lips out of pure habit. Eric was quick to dip his head forward, swiping his own tongue along mine. My back arched off the wall in surprise, the movement against his body earning me a small groan. This was how I realized he was hard-- I had to suppress another hitch of my breath.
"Shit, I want to take it all off," Eric whispered against my lips. "Everything. Feel all of you." He pressed his lips against my chin, moving his way down my throat and to my neck. I could feel the cool air hitting my back as he lifted my shirt off as well-- my nipples hardened at his attention, his hands gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing them.Â
I whimpered against his touch, writhing in anticipation. I had no idea what he had planned for me, if we were going to go all the way or not; I could already feel my excitement pool between my legs, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The arousal had been in my system since the second I saw today's drawing, and I let it out by tugging at his dark hair once more, hoping for him to come back up. "Eric, kiss me-- Wanna feel you too,"Â
I watched Eric's eyes light up as he pulled away and met mine. And he complied, capturing my lips in a needy kiss, his big hands gripping at my hips and digging into my skin through my trousers. Realizing I was the only one with my shirt off, my hands dipped under his, hoping he'd get the memo as I tugged at the hem of his pink sweater.Â
Eric's lips barely left mine as he discarded his sweater elsewhere, satisfaction coursing through my veins as our chests pressed up against each other, our hearts beating at the other through our skin. I had desperately wanted to see his tattoos, drink in the sight of the art scattered across his body, but it hit me that we didn't have time-- we didn't know when we'd be caught. I figured I'd leave it to the time we'd be out of rehab, when we'd have time for messy mornings every day, and when we had time to be buried in each other completely.Â
"I don't know if I can wait three weeks," I breathed in between hungry kisses, my hands running up and down his toned torso.Â
Eric hummed against my lips; "Me neither,"Â
And with that, it didn't take long before his slender fingers dipped down into my underwear, making my breath hitch at the realization of what was happening. "Been dreaming about this for weeks," Eric whispered, one of his hands disappearing in my hair to hold me in place, making sure my eyes met his as he rubbed tight circles around my clit. "You're all I ever think about."
My mouth was open against his, small gasps escaping past my lips, bucking into his hand as he sped up his movements around my clit. "I'm so crazy about you," I whimpered, watching the green of his eyes swallow me whole with adoration and lust. My mind still hadn't completely registered that this was happening, especially not under the blue lights of the stairwell. "You're better than drugs, I swear."
Eric chuckled against my lips, watching me moan against him as he patted the pad of his finger against the slick of my core. "Better than drugs, you say?"
"Much better," My words were barely coming out properly, and any continuation of that sentence was stopped the second Eric pressed a finger into me. My breath hitched-- fuck.Â
He hummed, a sweet smile splayed across his lips; "You're my drug,"Â
It was almost too much-- I bucked against his hand once more, squirming in his grip as the flame spread through my body. I really couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy or aroused. I let out a breathy moan as he pumped his finger into me, the squelching sound of my wetness drawing forth a blush in my cheeks.
"I'd take my time with you," Eric whispered, capturing my lips in a short kiss before continuing; "But we don't have a lot of time. Forgive me if we make this quick."
I could barely nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his thumb back against my clit, his middle finger curling inside of me. It was obvious that he had done this before.Â
My mind was already mush by the time Eric slid his finger out of me, turning me around and peppering my shoulder with wet kisses. It didn't take long before he leaned down to tug my pants down to my knees, fingers eager. I wasn't sure how to explain the burning need that was currently clawing at me, but I knew it was all-consuming. Eric had consumed me-- I knew I was his and only his.
So when I felt his big, strong hands grip my hips, pushing me towards him to allow for an easier entrance, I could only moan out in complete and utter satisfaction as I felt his cock sink into me. Eric let out a breathy grunt, now snaking both hands around my body, burying himself to the hilt with the slowest stroke known to man. "Fuck,"Â was all he managed to say, hissing slightly against my shoulder before sucking down on a spot, wanting to leave behind a mark.
I couldn't believe the strange places my mind went to-- why was I contemplating getting that hickey tattooed? I wouldn't need it anyway, if Eric kept his promise and stayed with me after we both got out. There was nothing I wanted more in the whole wide world.
All my concerns flew out the window as Eric gripped my waist for leverage as he continued to thrust into me, leaving me with my mouth open against the wall. My body was aching with pleasure unmatched anything I had ever felt before, and I knew that the difference between this time and all my other escapades was how much I had craved Eric-- and how much I knew he craved me.
My breath hitched as he nipped at my jaw, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Wanted this... so, so long..." Eric let out a grunt as his hands went down to my hips again, pulling away from my neck to watch his cock pump into my dripping core. I was quite sure it was glistening with my slick by the sounds of it. "Wanted this-- Wanted you."
"Me too," I cried, resting my hands against the wall, meeting his thrusts. "Every night, all the time..."
"All the time," he echoed. "Forever."
My breath hitched at both his words and the way one of his hands left my hip, ghosting over my stomach. I knew exactly where it was heading, and I had to bite back a rather loud moan as Eric dipped his hand down between my legs. Eric spread his fingers, covering my whole cunt, feeling the sides of his own cock rut into me. It didn't take long before his whole hand was practically covered in my slick, and I was quite sure I heard a drop hit the floor. Everything about it made me shiver.
Like this, I was practically pushed to rut against the palm of his hand, the pressure against my clit making me gasp-- I knew I wouldn't last long like this. Perfect.
By the sounds of it, Eric wouldn't either. He let a breathy moan escape his lips before he let go of my hips, reaching up to grab my chin, tilting it to the side so that he could kiss me. I let out a soft cry against his lips, feeling my walls clamp down around his thick cock. Feeling beyond full, I reached around to grab his dark hair, feeling his locks between my fingers as a familiar tightening in my stomach appeared.Â
"You're the only one I've ever wanted this badly," Eric murmured against my lips, his thrusts becoming rushed and erratic, clearly holding back his high. "Be mine-- Fuck, be mine?"
If I hadn't been this close to my high, I would've cried. "All yours, Eric, all yours... A-Aah!--" My walls clamped around him as I was driven against the palm of his hand once more, driving me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before.
Eric took this as a green light-- It didn't take long before he let out a grunt against my shoulder, gently biting down as ropes of cum decorated my walls, his thick cock twitching with its release inside of me.Â
Our pants filled the stairway, and I was quite sure my legs would give out as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, tucking himself back into his trousers. I could only smile, leaning against the wall as I let out a sigh of relief. I was so incredibly glad we managed to do all of this before getting caught-- I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait until we were both out. The burning in my body subsided, the ache turning into an all-consuming feeling of joy.Â
I turned to Eric with a soft smile spread across my lips, trying to steady my breathing. He was especially beautiful now-- kiss-swollen lips really suited him.Â
He returned my smile, leaning forward to capture my lips in a soft, gentle kiss. My hands reached out for him, cupping his face as my thumbs caressed his cheeks. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be adored like this, and I wasn't sure I would ever experience it until now. Meeting Eric felt like seeing a lunar rainbow--Â exceptionally rare.
However, Eric's sweet smile suddenly turned back into his usual mischievous smirk. Before I could even say a word, he had dropped down to his knees, leaning forward to wrap his lips around my aching sex, covering my whole mound as he sucked at me.
I could barely breathe as I realized what he was doing-- was he sucking his own cum out of me? This was new. And weirdly pleasurable. I let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair in the exact same way I did in Eric's drawing. I could only whimper as his tongue darted out, drawing a circle around my overstimulated clit-- instinctively, my hips bucked against his mouth. Something about this felt weirdly full-circle. "Eric, wait!-- Shit,"
He hummed, looking up at me with those green eyes I loved so much. "Will you kill me if I draw this?"
I could only sigh--Â bliss.Â
(a/n: PART 1, PART 3 linked here!! enjoy<33)
#the crow 2024#eric draven x reader#the crow x reader#the crow fanfiction#eric draven fanfiction#the crow#oneshot#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#bill skarsgÄrd#bill skarsgÄrd x reader#bill skarsgard#eric draven
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A Ballad of Lost Souls
Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader
Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say
Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, yâall get to be tattooed girlies today, youâre welcome
WC: 5.7K Iâm sorry
Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! Sheâs a great writer
A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. Thatâs all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if thereâs enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, Iâve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and donât cancel me alright.
You didnât often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didnât know where youâd be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didnât mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didnât care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and thatâs why you were here.Â
You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldnât be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldnât take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldnât imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didnât say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.
Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in.Â
You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didnât notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful.Â
Eric remembered that.Â
The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasnât much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasnât much, but you couldnât help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull upâs, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man youâve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldnât take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldnât be eye fucking him like this, but you couldnât help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.
Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didnât take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldnât hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didnât care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.
The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didnât show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldnât get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didnât feel filthy enough.
You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You werenât paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didnât even know his name.Â
Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didnât feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares.Â
Shit, were you supposed to say something?Â
You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didnât even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didnât think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since youâve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face.Â
Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him.Â
~~~
You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it.Â
He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.
âI like your ink.â Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.
âHm.â He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. âI like yours.âÂ
You smiled, the first genuine one since youâve gotten here.
âI have more.â You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets.Â
âMe too.â His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.
Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder.Â
âBut donât tell anyone.â You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.
âWho would I tell?â Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. âHere he comes.â
You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head.Â
âMales and females canât sit together!â One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.
âHuh? Wait, why are you taking him?â You talked back to the guard. âHey, he didnât do anything! I was the one that sat here. IâIâll move. Donât be such an asshole! Leave him alone!â You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.
He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. âIâm Eric!â
You smiled.Â
~~~~~~
âFound you.â You skipped into Ericâs room, finally seeing his door open.
You hadnât seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your âtemperâ but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didnât mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didnât see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.
âI never left.â He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room.Â
âIâm sorry for getting you in trouble.â You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.
âIs that why youâre here? To apologize?â Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.
âWell yeah. I didnât mean to get you in trouble.â You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.
âWhy did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didnât you?â He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.
ââCause⊠You didnât do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. Itâs fucked up.â You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.
âYeah, so?â
You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didnât know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.
âI dunno.. I just.. Oh myââ You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.
Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didnât look apologetic, at all.
âThis what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?â You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.
He shook his head. âJust one.â He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes.Â
Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.
âYou are very talented, this isââ You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. âYou could totally sell this for some money.â
âBut,â you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. âI see one flaw in your creativity.â
âOh?â He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.
âI fear you donât have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.â You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.
âSorry. I work with what I have.â He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.
âMaybe I should give you more to work with?â Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.
Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didnât have to think about it, he didnât want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better.Â
You werenât sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Ericâs slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didnât do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.
His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didnât hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Ericâs shoulder, forcing your lips away from his.Â
âEricâEric.â You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. âI have to go. I donât want to get you in trouble again.âÂ
He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Ericâs. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.
You could not wait to see him again.
~~~~~~
âEric!ââ You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.
You didnât mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didnât, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didnât know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasnât enough for him, or for you.
âI wanted to taste you so fucking bad.â He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you.Â
âPleaseâfuck. That feels so good.â You didnât remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.
Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours.Â
You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit.Â
âJust like that baby⊠Just like that.â Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot.Â
Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you.Â
âShitâEricââ You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face.Â
With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.
âItâs okay.â He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm.Â
âBut youââ He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left.Â
âWeâll have time for that.â He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. âRight?â
He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didnât want.
âOf course.. This isnât.. Canât you tell? What you do to me. Iâve never..â You couldnât even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didnât need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.
âWe should go.â He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. âCan you stand?â
You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.
~~~~~
The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasnât hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasnât startled, he didnât flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasnât something you could explain, you knew it probably wasnât healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.
âWhere are you going?â You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didnât look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.
âLaundry room.â He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldnât hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.
âIâm supposed to be out in two weeks.â You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass.Â
âIâm out in four.â He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldnât go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.
âI donât want to wait a month to be with you.â You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. âIâm supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I donât want to go. Theyâre the ones that put me here.âÂ
âI donât have anywhere to go.â You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.
âYou can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. Itâs not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?â You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didnât have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.
âI would like that. I would like something real, with you.â His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. âFuck this place. Weâll do it tomorrow, during shift change. Thereâs a vent up here that leads to the yard.â
You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck.Â
âEric.â You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. âI donât think I can wait anymore. Please, I⊠I needâŠâ
âNeed what?â His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.
âFuckââ You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you mightâve once had, completely. You canât trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? âTake me. Iâm yours, just take me.â
âFuck.â Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. âYouâre a sweet girl, donât forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.âÂ
His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.
âI like carnations.â You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.
âThose are pretty. Theyâre pretty like you.â He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days.Â
Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didnât know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs.Â
âCan I take this off?â He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.
His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big.Â
âLet me know if it hurts, hm? Iâll take it easy, I promise.â He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.
âFuck. Fuck, oh my godââ You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.
âItâs okay. You want me to stop?â He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didnât occur to you.
âNo. âm okay. Keep going.â You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. âEric, please.â
You didnât need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.
âFuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.â He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. âI need you to keep it down for me, baby. You donât want us to get caught, do you?âÂ
You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent yearsâdrugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.
âI wanted thisâyouâso fucking bad. I needed to have you.â Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. âIâm so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.âÂ
You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul.Â
âMe too.â You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. âIâve never wanted anyone this bad. Youâah!âI need you all the fucking time.â
âThen you can have me,â His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. âAll the fucking time. Forever.âÂ
Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uhâs, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak.Â
âI want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.â Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way beforeâso overcome with pleasure you cried.
âShh, itâs okay baby. Good girl.â The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down.Â
Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasnât until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself.Â
Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.
âHow fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?â You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.
âWhen I first saw you, I didnât know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didnât have you. And right now, I can tell you itâs not just lust. Iâm entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if thereâs one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise youâll drown.âÂ
You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, heâd be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.
âAddicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But itâs not always to drugs weâre addicted to.â You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. âThis feeling? I never want it to stop.â
âIt doesnât have to.â He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. âForever, right?â
âYeah, forever.â
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Pussy Liquor (Eric Draven x Stripper!Reader)
Summary: Itâs a slow, boring night at the club until he walks through the door.
Warnings: Eric is implied to have a lot of money(heâs in the music industry), unprotected public sex, lust at first sight, choking 18+MDNI
â° I think this one has been a long time coming for me. Iâve never written stripper!reader but I was a stripper for several years so this is v personal to me. The songs reader dances to used to be my favorite set. thank u for always encouraging me pookie @babygorewhore â°
It was a dreary, slow night. There were bodies in the club but no money to go along with them. A few dudes you can tell just turned 21 and are here for the experience, theyâll definitely spend the entire evening at the same table drinking cheap beer while they whistle at the dancers with their wallets closed. A few of the girls regulars are here, either in the back or cozied up at a table. If you were lucky theyâd ask you to come sit with them and at the very least buy you drinks but you didnât feel like entertaining someone for nothing more than a few ones and some shots. There was a couple in the corner arguing and a few older men with their eyes practically glued to the slot machines. Classic.
But there was one individual that caught your eye. He wasnât someone you would usually see in a place like this. He was more like a pretty face you saw on the street and thought about for the rest of the week. Heâs tucked away in a back corner booth drinking what looks like shots of crown royal, the whole bottle, always a good sign. Heâs approached the stage and tipped each girl generously but hasnât stayed for a set. Youâve noticed a few girls go offer him dances but he declines, offering them a tip anyway. You couldnât blame them for trying. He was gorgeous. Heâs extremely tall, still towering over even the tallest dancers in their heels. His toned arms are covered in tattoos and the white tee heâs wearing sits taunt against his chest. His distressed black jeans are tucked into beat up leather boots and his face is otherworldly. Those bright green eyes shine in the flashing lights of the club, the way they dance around his face accentuating different parts of his statuesque bone structure. He has full lips and a perfect pointed nose and youâve never wanted to ride a customer right in the middle of the club until right now. You havenât felt nervous to go on stage since you were just starting out dancing but the way his viridescent eyes raked over your body as you climbed the stairs to the stage had your heart pounding.
Your first song starts to play and you grab onto the pole lightly as you prance around it to the beat. You press the tip of your healed boot against the bottom of the pole and spin your body around it with your other leg pointed before pressing your back against it. You nearly trip when you see the man youâve been fantasizing about all night sitting at your stage with a $20 bill sitting on the bar. You regain your composure, smiling at him sweetly as you slide down the pole onto your knees so you can crawl to him. The sound of Rob Zombieâs âPussy Liquorâ thrums through your body, making you feel like a succubus. You stop on your knees in front of the top bar, never breaking eye contact with him as you pluck it with your manicured fingers and stuff it into the band of your black bikini top.
âThank you, thatâs so sweet of you.â You press your tits together as you lean over and stick your ass out behind you. âIâm Bunny, whatâs your name?â
âWell, thatâs kind of forward, isnât it?â His voice is much softer than you expected as he returns your smile with one of his own, itâs not condescending though, itâs almost playful. âIâm Eric.â
âWell, you donât have to tell me anything if you donât want to. You can just watch me dance.â You wink at him before leaning back on your knees and pulling the string on your top so it falls down your body, your tits spilling free. Ericâs eyes sparkle and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks up at you like he hasnât seen multiple pairs of boobs just within the last hour.
You pull the bottom string free and then toss it to the side as you push yourself up on your 8 inch heels. You sway toward the pole, running your fingers through your hair as you purposefully wiggle the fat of your ass. You grab onto the metal and roll your body before swinging your foot around it so you can climb up. You lock your legs together and lean backward, suspending yourself in the air. You watch as Eric pulls out a roll of cash and throws a huge stack of ones followed by several twentyâs. You grab onto your tits and jiggle them for him before titling yourself back up to grab onto the pole. You timed it perfectly so when the beat dropped so did you, right from the top onto the ground in the splits. Eric claps, which you find absolutely adorable because who the fuck claps in a strip club? And then he throws a literal hundred dollar bill onto your stage right as your first song ends. You tease him all through the next song, âCloserâ by Nine Inch Nails and when youâre leaning over to press your tits into his face he gives you this dopey smile and tells you that he loves the songs you choose. After your set is done you offer him a dance, and he insists on a private room.
You pull the thick red curtain back so you can lead him into the sectioned off area of the club. Thereâs walls on all three sides and an open face thatâs completely blocked by curtains. You canât help but giggle at the way he stands there awkwardly surveying the room. You can tell heâs never done this before.
âThis your first time?â You grab onto a piece of your hair and twirl it, looking up at him through your lashes. Heâs even taller than you thought he was and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs when how easily he could toss you around crosses your mind. You have no idea how youâre going to get through the next thirty minutes without getting turned on. You already are.
âYeah. Iâm just not sure how it works.â He chuckles lightly as he rubs the back of his neck but thereâs this glint in his eye that tells you he isnât going to make this any easier on you or your tiny thong.
âWell, why donât you just sit down on the couch and I can dance for you?â You grab his hand and guide him to the couch, encouraging him to sit down. He obliges you and you lower yourself into his lap with your legs hanging over his. Youâre back in your top now, but it leaves little to be desired and you feel your body heat as his eyes rake over you. One of his large hands lands on your thigh and he gives you a questioning look, instead of answering him verbally you swing your leg over his to straddle him and grab onto both of his hands, resting them on your hips. You throw your arms over his shoulders and grind down on him lightly and it has his grip on you tightening.
âI donât know the rules and youâre making it really hard for me to control myself already.â Ericâs voice is a deep rumble that runs straight to your core and god you donât usually let customers touch you like this but youâre starting to wonder if you can stop yourself from fucking him right here.
âWanna know a little secret, Eric?â You ghost your lips across his pierced ear and you can feel his skin break out into goosebumps.
âYeah.â He groans when you grind down on him harder this time, his grip on you turning almost bruising.
âI donât usually let guys touch me, even for money, but you? You can touch me as much as you want.â You run your nose down his jaw before pulling away from him, flipping around on his lap and pushing yourself onto your feet. You roll your body and shake your ass for him while pulling your top off again. You shimmy back onto his lap with your back pressed to his chest and grind against his now hard bulge. You canât help the little whine that escapes you. His large tattooed hands grip onto your tits and thatâs when you lose all sense of reality.
âI really liked your songs, ya know?â Ericâs breath tingles against your neck, his lips just barely brushing your skin. âYouâre the only girl here I wanted to talk to.â
âYeah? Youâre the only guy Iâve ever seen in here that I actually wanted to dance for.â You throw your hands behind your back so you can lace them behind his head as you continue to wind on his lap. âAnd itâs so fucking against the rules but Iâd let you fuck me right here.â You lean your head back so you can look up into his eyes and his expression has changed drastically, it was like your words flipped a switch inside of him and he wants nothing more to eat you alive.
âWell, I wouldnât want to get you in trouble, bunny.â He chuckles and brings a finger up to your cheek. He runs it down your face to your jaw before ghosting it over your lips and you canât help but dart your tongue out to lick the pad of his finger. âLet me take you home with me.â
âWell, Iâm not really supposed to do that either. But I really feel like breaking some fucking rules tonight.â You wind your hips in a circle and his cock slides perfectly between your thong covered ass.
âThey canât be too mad if I pay them off, right?â He squeezes your boob, rolling your nipple between his fingertips.
âThat would cost a lot. Youâre hot enough to lose my job over. Thereâs other clubs. I want you to fuck me.â You whine and pull the strings of your bottoms so they fall down your hips. You never thought youâd be here, sitting on a customers lap begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat. But something about this man was making you lose all rationality.
âMoney isnât an issue for me baby. Hell, Iâll get you out of here permanently if you want.â He runs that perfect nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the expensive perfume one of your regulars bought you a few months back. âAnd you donât need to beg, the minute I saw you I knew Iâd give you anything you asked for.â
âFuck, Those are some big promises, honey.â You giggle, sugary sweet, and it makes him melt. He grabs onto your hips and pushes you to stand, your tiny thong falling at your feet, leaving you exposed to him. Eric grabs onto the globes of your ass and spreads them open, your pussy lips coming apart with a click from how wet you are.
âWould you look at that? So fucking perfect.â He grips onto your hips to turn you around, making sure to steady you when you stumble in your heels. You watch with wide eyes as he reaches for his playboy bunny belt buckle and your jaw practically drops to the floor when he pulls his cock out. Itâs fucking huge and pierced. âI donât make promises I canât keep, bunny. Come sit on it.â
Eric pulls you forward and you straddle him, your knees sinking into the leather of the couch. He grips onto his shaft and runs it through your wetness, the balls of his piercing bumping against your clit. He taps the head against your sensitive bud before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside your wet walls. But itâs not enough, you want to feel the burn of the stretch while he splits you open so you slam your hips down onto his, taking him to the hilt in one thrust. It nearly knocks the wind out of you and a moan so loud that the music barely drowns it out.
âOh fuck, youâre so fucking tight.â Eric grips onto your ass and bounces you up and down on his cock as he stares into your eyes deeply. âYou sure nobody is gonna come in here?â
âNobody will, theyâre definitely watching on the cameras and Iâm definitely fucked as soon as we walk out of here but theyâll let it play out.â Itâs like you gave him the green light because he plants his feet firmly on the ground and starts to fuck up into you. He grips onto your throat so he can pull your lips to his in a filthy kiss, not wasting any time intertwining your tongues together. The metal bar in his cock caresses your walls as his thick head bullies your g-spot and your toes curl in your boots. âChoke me harder.â
âYeah? You like it rough, bunny? Iâm going to have so much fun with you.â Eric squeezes your throat tighter and his free hand comes to run circles on your clit with his thumb. The way heâs talking about you like he already owns you combined with the pleasure heâs giving you has you already teetering towards the edge. âIâm gonna keep you, make you my pretty little fuck doll. You want that?â
âYes, fuck yes.â You whine, drool starting to drip down your chin as your eyes roll back. Your manicured fingers scratch at his back through his shirt and you wouldnât be surprised if it has tiny rips in it by the end of this.
âLook at me when you fall apart on my cock.â Eric grunts as he shifts his hips so heâs fucking into you even deeper and it has euphoria washing over your entire body the minute your eyes lock with his. Your pussy clenches around his cock like a vise grip and you moan so loudly thereâs no way it canât be heard outside of this room. But youâre way past giving a fuck. âOh, thatâs a good bunny, come for me.â
âOh my f-fucking god! Fuckkkk me!â Ericâs thrusts donât let up as he chases his own high, his hands grip onto your ass again and heâs practically folded in half on the couch as he bounces you like a fuck toy on his dick.
âIâm gonna fucking come.â Eric grunts before heâs pressing your hips flush against yours with his cock twitching inside you. You watch as he throws his head back, exposing his tattooed neck and you canât help but lean forward and bite down on it. âFuck yes, fucking bite me.â
You suck and bite on his skin until he goes limp underneath you, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes himself up with his cock still nestled inside of you before pulling you close so he can kiss you with a passion no man ever has before. Who was this guy? And why did you never want to leave him?
âAlright, we should get out of here so I can go lose my job.â You chuckle as you stand up and grab your bikini, tying it back on while Eric tucks himself back into his pants. He comes to stand in front of you, taking your face into his hands.
âI meant that shit I said. I know we donât know each other, hell, I donât even know your real name. But come home with me, Iâll pay off these assholes and buy you whatever you want.â Eric smiles at you so sweetly you feel like youâre going to melt into the beer soaked carpet and how can you say no?
âFuck it. Letâs go.â You giggle and push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling him out to face the music.
You definitely lost your job that night. But Eric fucked you so good you couldnât even bring it in yourself to care. And he kept his promise. He kept you as his little doll and gave you everything your heart could ever desire.
Tagging a few moots who might be interested: @nailbatanddungeon @myspacebrat @ghoul-friendz @taintandviolent
Divider is by @cafekitsune
#eric draven#eric draven 2024#the crow#the crow 2024#eric draven x reader#eric draven smut#eric draven fanfiction#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgÄrd#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skarsgard x reader#bill skarsgard smut#dolly writes
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Y'ALL
WE HAVE GOTTEN FEEDBACK FROM HBO MAX AND HAVE THEIR ATTENTION TO SAVE SHADOW AND BONE AND GIVE US OUR SIX OF CROWS SPIN OFF
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE SIGN THE PETITION TO SAVE SHADOW AND BONE AND OUR CROWS TO GET OUR SPIN OFFS AND MORE, THE SCRIPTS ARE COMPLETED ALREADY BEFORE NETFLIX CANCELLED THEM
SIGN THE PETITION TO HELP SAVE SHADOW AND BONE AND OUR BELOVED CROWS
Save Shadow And Bone
#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone#six of crows x reader#six of crows#soc kaz#kaz brekker x reader#kaz x inej#kaz brekker#inej gjafa x reader#soc inej#inej gafha#inej ghafa#save shadow and bone#save six of crows#matthais helvar#nina zenik x reader#nina zenik#jesper fahey x you#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey#wylan van eck#wylan x jesper#soc jesper#six of crows jesper#wylan hendriks#wylan van sunshine#soc wylan#soc x reader#hbo max#netflix
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me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst
#kaz brekker x reader#six of crows x reader#fanfiction#angst#jesper fahey x reader#simon riley x reader#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#kaz brekker angst#hobie brown x reader#miles morales x reader#atsv x reader#miguel oâhara x reader#alastor x reader#harry potter x reader#steve rogers x reader#bucky barns x reader#tony stark x reader#avengers x reader#konig x reader#five hargreaves x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader#mcntseesrandoms#matthias helvar x reader
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EVERYTHING
Kaz Brekker x Reader
Summary - Kaz Brekker doesn't make any senseâand trying to understand him is getting to be exhausting.
Warnings - fem!reader, reader worked at a brothel, subtle hints at past abuse, some major dog / master symbolism idfk, mentions of blood/weapons, close proximity, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED SO IF THERE'S A TYPO IDK
Word Count - 3.8k
!MINORS DNI!
// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //
âTouch me.âÂ
Youâve only just slipped inside Kaz Brekkerâs room at the Slat, and youâre convinced youâve misheard him. The doorâs still cracked, after allâand the mindless clamor of those playing cards down in the foyer is loud enough to play tricks on anyoneâs ears.Â
You push the door shut, habit making you click the lock into place before spinning around to face him. âPardon?âÂ
The lanterns burn low, dim light chasing shadows across the spacious attic. Kaz stands over by his desk, leaning his weight against the edge in lieu of his cane. Heâs dragging a gloved hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically flustered.Â
âDonât act like you didnât hear me,â he snaps.Â
Your laugh comes out breathy and awkward. âWe both know Iâm a shit actor, Brekker.âÂ
Itâs why youâre never picked when the Dregâs need a decoyâsome girl to saddle up next to a sleazy merchant or another hapless mark, distracting them with batted lashes and a well-timed hand on their thigh. In Jesperâs words, youâre so socially inept that youâd probably blow the operation before it even got started.
To your dismay, Kaz doesnât repeat himself. With his gaze carefully pinned to the tops of his black boots, he demands, âWhy are you here?âÂ
Your brow quirks. âAt the Slat?âÂ
âIn my room.âÂ
The answer eludes you. Why did you come up here? Itâs not like tonight was the first time Dirtyhands has ever skipped out on playing Blackjack with the rest of the group, and yet heâd caught your attention when he slipped from the foyer and went limping up the stairs.Â
Then again, thatâs not so surprising. Kaz always catches your eye, doesnât he?Â
In the year since you joined the Dregs, youâd earned an unfortunate nickname for yourself around the Barrel: The Bastardâs Pet. Wherever Kaz Brekker goes, youâre sure to be hot on his heels, following after him like a dog, loyal and clingy.Â
You tell yourself itâs because thatâs your jobâto keep Kaz safe, to watch his six. But the devilâs got eyes in the back of his head, and you know Kaz Brekker doesnât really need protection.Â
So, it begs the question: Why are you here? In his room, at the Slat, as a member of the Dregs? Why does he keep you around?Â
Unsure of the answer, you simply avoid giving one.Â
âYou should play games with them sometimes,â you tell him, giving a subtle nod over your shoulder. Their voices are muffled now, but you can still hear everyone downstairs exchanging jeers as they shuffle another round. âIt makes you look like a recluse, always sneaking off to be by yourself.âÂ
Kaz drums one finger against the desk. Itâs an erratic beat, following no set rhythm. âI am a recluse,â he grinds out.Â
You almost snort. Clearly.Â
Itâs not like anyone joins a gang with the hopes of making friendsâand none of the Dregs are dumb enough to think theyâll find a buddy in the infamous Dirtyhands, anyway. Still, you donât think itâd kill him to try being a little more sociable.Â
The others would like having him around.Â
You like having him around.Â
âIâll ask one more time.â Dark eyes flick up, heavy as stones when they land on yours. Suddenly, the large attic feels awfully claustrophobic. âWhy are you here?âÂ
A lie comes easily enough, slipping right through your teeth.Â
âI got bored playing,â you tell him. âAnd Jesperâs cheating, anyway.âÂ
âTheyâre all cheating,â Kaz points out.Â
âBut Jesperâs bad at it,â you argue. Lifting a shoulder, you add, âIt ruins the fun.âÂ
His finger falls still against the desk, ceasing its rhythmless beat. Warm light flickers all around him, dark shadows dancing over the harsh angles of his face. You watch his jaw tick, note the subtle curl of his upper lip. Youâre overcome with the distinct feeling that youâre staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.Â
Probably because you are.Â
Youâve seen this face before. Been the one to clean the bloody mess left behind by whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of it. Now, as the one standing in the line of fire, you feel your stomach start to twist.Â
You tell yourself itâs dread. Anxiety for whatâs to come.Â
âFrom where I was standing,â Kaz grinds out, his stare unflinching, âyou looked to be having plenty ofâŠâ A sharp breath, his tongue gliding over pearly teeth. âFun.âÂ
Thereâs something hidden in the word. A meaning that goes well beyond its dictionary definition. Is it a challenge? A dare, maybe? Orâperhaps the most unlikely of the optionsâsome sort of plea?Â
âAnd what is that supposed to mean?â you ask, finally daring a step closer, slowly drifting from the closed door.Â
Kaz shakes his head. âIt means what it means.âÂ
As you draw closer, he moves around the desk and takes a seat. He stretches his bad leg out in front of him, mindlessly rubbing a hand down toward his knee. Itâs always bothering him by this point in the night.Â
âGo back downstairs.â An orderânot a suggestion.Â
Across from him now, you place both palms on his desk. The smooth wood is cool against your skin, though the rest of you feels impossibly warm. Itâs a side effect of standing too close to him, you think. The flushed cheeks and the vice around your lungs, always leaving your mind fuzzy and your pulse erratic.Â
You hate him for it, sometimes. For the effect he has on you.Â
âWhy?â you ask, riding out your little bold streak. âSo you have a reason to gripe some more about me having fun?âÂ
âIâm not griping,â Kaz shoots back, very evidently griping.Â
âGriping, carping, quibbling, or complainingâdoesnât matter how you word it, all of 'em fit you to a T right now, Brekker.âÂ
Heâs not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the swirling patterns of the wood grain or the neat stack of papers or anything else that gives him an excuse to keep his head low. A month or so after you joined the Dregs, Kaz told you that you had a talent for getting under his skin. Maybe thatâs why you donât need to be able to see his face to know just how annoyed he looks.Â
âGo downstairs.âÂ
âI will,â you vow. âAfter you explain what you meant.âÂ
Frustrated, he insists, âThereâs nothing to explain.âÂ
âWhat did you say when I came in?âÂ
âGo downstairs.âÂ
You throw your hands up. âIf you wonât tell me what you said, then at least explain why âfunâ is such a problem!âÂ
âGo. Down. Stairs.âÂ
âMake me.âÂ
Wood screeches, the chair flying back as he shoots to his feet. The stiffness in his leg makes the movement a little clumsy, and you donât miss the subtlest flash of a wince before he leans against the desk.Â
âDo you know why I brought you in?âÂ
For a moment, itâs all you can do to blink at him. Because, noâyou donât know why Kaz offered you a place with the Dregs.Â
Youâre not a sharpshooter like Jesper or a trained Grisha like Nina, not as smart as Wylan or as silent as Inej. Youâre decent when it comes to sleight-of-hand and slightly above average with a blade, but even those skills are ones youâve only learned since joining the gang.Â
Back when you first met Kaz, you were nothing and no one. An unlucky girl roped into an indenture with Pekka Rollins, forced to work out of the Sweet Shopâthe nastiest, most dangerous brothel in all of Ketterdam.Â
âBecause youâre secretly a big softie with a heart of gold?â You hope your sarcasm is enough to mask the twinge of shame brought on by your past.Â
But Kaz is too good for that. Nothing gets past himâevident by the tiny wrinkle of concern that forms between his dark brows, instantly picking up on the faint dip in your tone.Â
Fortunately for you, being observant doesnât equate to being consoling, and so he doesnât mention it.Â
âBecause you didnât make me sick,â he answers, low and even. Youâre not so sure if itâs an insult or compliment, and before you get a chance to ask, Kaz continues, âIt was late. And raining. Iâd just finished teaching a Razorgull lackey what happens when you breach parley. He was a real bleederâmade a mess of my suit. I ended up leaving him for Jesper to deal with. Thought Iâd avoid eyes by sticking to the shadows, walking in the alleys behind the brothels.â Your eyes must be betraying you, because you almost think thatâs a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. âImagine my surprise when a runaway harlot nearly knocked a helpless cripple like me off his feet.âÂ
You bite your cheek, still deciding if you want to slap him for calling you a harlot or laugh in his face. In spite of his limp and cane, Kaz Brekker is far from what youâd consider helpless.Â
âSo, what? You had me join the Dregs because I nearly bulldozed you in an alley?â That whole night was spotty for you, the panic youâd felt having rendered your memory foggy and incomplete.Â
âInej had told me about you,â Kaz says. âThat Pekka Rollins got a new girlâan escape artist, always trying her luck at running away.âÂ
You didnât know that, but maybe you should have. Inej isnât the best spider in the Barrel without reason. She knows everythingâand all she knows is reported directly to Kaz. Even so, youâre not sure youâre catching his point with all this.Â
As if he can see you trying to mentally connect the dots, Kaz says, âMaybe I had another purpose in walking behind those brothels. Maybe I wanted to see just how quick on her feet Pekka Rollinsâ escape artist was.â His head tilts slightly. âOr maybe I just didnât want anyone to see me when I wasnât looking my best. Either way, I left that alley knowing youâd be a part of my crew.âÂ
Your memory of that night may be spotty, but the one after is still crystal clear. A Suli spider had crawled through your window at the Sweet Shop, told you that Per Haskell was willing to pay a very hefty sum to buyout your indenture if you agreed to work for the Dregs. To this day, youâre still unsure of how Kaz managed to convince him you were worth itâor why he bothered.Â
âYouâre not making any sense, Brekker,â you admit, rubbing at your temple. A headache burrows there, seeming to grow worse with every minute. âIs that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? Cause Iâm⊠fast?âÂ
It sounds stupid. It is stupid.Â
Youâre no faster than anyone elseâand you certainly hadnât been fast enough to outrun Pekka Rollinsâ goons. Everytime you made a run from the Sweet Shop, they dragged you right back, kicking and screaming the whole way.Â
âNo.â Kaz sighs. Drags a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. âI wanted you-â
Kaz doesnât finish that thought.Â
A violent CRASH! steals your attention. Both of your heads snap toward the closed door, listening intently for any sign of danger.
Instead, you hear Jesperâs boisterous cackle chime. Wylan starts shouting about something indiscernibleâvase, shattered, and moron among the words you catch.
A smile sneaks up on you.Â
But, when you turn back to Kaz, itâs promptly wiped away.Â
He looks like heâs had a lemon rind forced into his mouth, scowling at the door. âWhatâs going on with you and Van Eck?âÂ
You blink. âWhat?âÂ
âYou heard me.âÂ
You didâbut hearing him is a far stretch from understanding him, and itâs seemed like Kaz has been talking in circles since you came in. Whatâs Wylan have to do with any of this?Â
âI donât get what youâre asking.âÂ
âStop making me repeat myself.âÂ
âThen stop being so confusing, Brekker!â you huff, crossing your arms. âI donât understand-â
Kaz cuts you off with a look. Cold as death, he grinds out, âAre you fucking him?âÂ
Shock. Confusion.Â
They course through you in equal measure, coupled with slight amusement. The latter must show on your face, because Kazâs scowl deepens before he looks down at his desk, pretending to fiddle with something.Â
âI have work to do,â he says stiffly. âGo downstairs.âÂ
Your feet stay firmly planted, the deskâs width all that separates the two of you. âWhy would you think that?âÂ
Of all the assholes and degenerates in the Dregs, Wylanâs probably the closest you have to a real friend. It came with the territoryâboth of you having become newbies around the same time, trying to learn the ropes and fit in.Â
Youâre not fucking him, though.Â
Kaz sinks back into his chair. His usually-squared shoulders curve slightly, as if some weight is pressing down on them. âGo downstairs.âÂ
âI thought you didnât like repeating yourself?â you ask, almost taunting.Â
âGo.â The word strains between his teeth. âNow.âÂ
For no good reason, you make a stand. Stare down the barrel of the gun, unafraid and unrelenting. How strange, you think. The tightness in your chest has never once been apprehension.Â
It was excitement. Anticipation.Â
Youâve always liked getting under his skin. Finding out what makes him tick, figuring out which words earn the sharpest glares. You want him to pull the trigger, if only because it means you have his attentionâand like a dog waiting at its masterâs feet, you could care less if it comes with an open hand or a closed fist.Â
So long as it comes. So long as he notices you.Â
âWhat did you say when I came in?â You uncross your arms, make yourself stand up tall. âTell me.âÂ
Dark eyes shoot up. Kaz almost looks shocked, the dull echo of emotion creasing the lines of his face, parting his lips. You wait, but no sound comes out.Â
Dirtyhands is used to giving orders. Not taking them.Â
âYouâve heard what they say about me.â You wave a dismissive hand toward the shoddy window overlooking the Barrel. âBrekkerâs Pet. Always with you, always following you around! Ask any sod in Ketterdam and theyâll say the sameâthe only way Iâd have time to fuck someone is if you were in the room!â And even then, it wouldnât be Wylan.Â
A steel rod takes the place of Kazâs spine, turning your words over in his head. âFine. Maybe you havenât,â he relents. âBut you want to.âÂ
Itâs a gamble. An unusually shitty one, at that.Â
You blow out an exasperated breath. This whole thing is getting old. âSaints, Kaz. Whatâs your deal?âÂ
He opens his mouth. Shuts it. Then opens it again.Â
âI saw you downstairs,â he says. âTouching Van Eck.âÂ
Your brows lift, fists clenching. You donât know what you expected from him, but it certainly hadnât been a bold-faced lie!Â
But then you start thinking of the moments before you saw Kaz head upstairs, laughing and playing Blackjack before you folded your hand to follow after him. Youâd been sitting cross-legged on the threadbare rug, wedged between Wylan and Raske, when you noticedâShit.Â
Kaz is right, and that makes you want to scream. Why is Kaz always right?Â
It was after you noticed Jesper was cheating, that heâd poorly marked the deck with daub; a sticky, ash-colored substance. Youâd leaned in close to point it out to Wylanâyour hand against his forearm, your lips dangerously close to the Merchlingâs ear. After he noticed the marks, you both exchanged quiet giggles over just how bad Jesper was at swindling.Â
Still, there had been nothing sexual about it. Nothing between you and Wylan.Â
But, even if there was, why would Kaz care?Â
I saw youâtouching Van Eck. His words race through your mind, pulsing in time with the dull ache in your temple. Touch me, touch me, touch me.Â
All of a sudden, the fog begins to clear. Something in your memory clicks.Â
That night behind the brothelsâwhen you were running from the Sweet Shop, when Kaz had been drenched in the blood of some Razorgull. Barefoot and frantic, you really had almost knocked him off his feet. Gloved hands had held your arms tight, keeping you still. His hair had been messy and your mind a blurâand when youâd seen the crimson smeared across his cheek, you hadnât thought twice before wiping it away.Â
Youâd done what so few have. You had touched Kaz Brekker, skin-on-skin.Â
Because you didnât make me sick.Â
When you donât speak, Kaz shifts in his chair. Straightens an already-neat stacks of papers. âYou wonât try and deny it?â he asks.Â
Maybe you imagine the quaver in his voice. Or maybe you donât.Â
Either way, you start around his desk. Your every step is slowâcautious.Â
You stop beside him, and Kaz shifts again. Youâre standing closer than youâd usually dare to get, so close that you can hear it when he swallows.Â
âYou should go downstairs,â he tells you, lower than before.Â
Your head tilts, hair shifting over one shoulder. âIs that what you want?âÂ
His answer hides in silence so thick itâs a tangible presence. It curls around you, makes gooseflesh prickle along your skin. Your mouth feels dry, your stomach like itâs tied in knots.Â
Suddenly, you donât need him to repeat what heâd said.Â
As always, Kaz was rightâyou'd heard him the first time.Â
âAsk me again.â The words drip from your tongue, an order and a plea. âAsk me and Iâll do it.âÂ
Kaz gives you a look, one youâve never seen before. Dark eyes rove over you, brimming with worry and stress andâand Saints, a sense of desire so strong it makes your toes curl in your boots, a feeling like lightning coursing up your spine.Â
In a voice like stone on stone, raspy and urgent, Kaz breathes out, âTouch me.âÂ
So you do.Â
You cup his face, graze your thumb over his cheekbone. Kaz stiffens, swallowing once moreâbut he doesnât flinch. Doesnât try to pull away.Â
âYou know, to be such a bastard,â you start, a note of teasing in your voice, âyouâre awfully pretty, Brekker.âÂ
Heat blooms against your palm, a deep blush crawling over his pale cheeks.Â
âShut up,â Kaz grumbles.Â
You grin. âWant me to go downstairs?âÂ
A gasp rips from your throat as a gloved hand clamps around your wrist, Kaz pulling you down toward him. Anxiety still tightens his features, but beneath it he looks all too pleased with himself when you stumble clumsily into his lap.Â
For the sake of comfort, you adjust your legsâcareful for his bad oneâand settle your arms over his shoulders. Then, when it fully settles that youâre straddling Kaz-fucking-Brekker, it gets a lot harder to breathe.Â
âShould I take that as a no?â It sounds like a pant, your lungs constricting.Â
He lifts the hem of your shirt, the feel of leather cool against your skin as Kaz jabs a finger into your side. âDo I always have to repeat myself around you?â he asks. Dark eyes dip past your jaw, his tongue gliding over his lips. You donât think he actually cares to hear your answer, which is goodâbecause youâre pretty sure you just forgot how to speak.Â
Kaz drags his finger up the curve of your waist, his touch tentative and featherlight. It feels a lot like being studiedâthe way his dark brows knit together, staring at you as if youâre a magic trick heâs yet to master, a puzzle he hasnât quite figured out.Â
âItâs not because youâre fast,â he says, somewhat distracted. It takes a minute for you to realize that heâs referring to your earlier questionâIs that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then?Â
âGood,â you manage. âBecause Iâm not.âÂ
The slightest twitch of a smile. âNo.â He takes his time tracing over every divet in your ribs, slowly trailing up, up, up. âYouâre not.âÂ
âBut I didnât make you sick.â Youâre not prepared for the wave of sickness that comes with the reminder, stomach roiling.Â
The Bastardâs Pet. Is that truly all you are? All youâre worth to the Dregs? Useless at saddling up next to sleazy merchants, but good enough to curl up at Kaz Brekkerâs feet.Â
As if he can read your mind, Kazâs hand goes still against your side. âWipe that sour look off your face, would you? If I only wanted you to touch me, I wouldâve just come to the Sweet Shop instead of getting my ass chewed by Haskell.â
You wiggle just enough to knock one knee into his hip, glaring at him. Both of you pretend not to notice the catch in his breathâor the growing hardness straining against his trousers, pressed against your core.Â
Gruff, Kaz continues, âYou were in an alley and saw a man dripping with blood, and your first thought was to reach out and clean his cheek.â His head shakes, a strand of coal-black hair swaying near his temple. âIt was ignorant,â he tells you. âAnd⊠decent. Innocent.âÂ
You almost laugh. Innocent. Thatâs hardly a word youâd use to describe yourself. Especially right now, your every muscle straining in an attempt to keep your hips perfectly still, hands folded at the base of his neck.Â
âI didnât know innocence like that could survive in the Barrel.â His hand starts again, tracing little shapes against your side. âEven if you never touched me again, I wasnât gonna let Pekka Rollinâs crush someone like you between his grimy little fingers.âÂ
âSo thatâs the answer?â you ask, nibbling on your lip. âIâm in the Dregs cause Iâm innocent?â What a reason to have someone join a gang. Hey, you seem pure! Wanna get corrupted?Â
âYouâre in the Dregs because you know how to persevere,â Kaz answers, holding your gaze. âHow to get up and try again, no matter how many times youâre knocked down.â The sensation of smooth leather drifts higher. âBecause youâre a survivor.â Your eyelids flutter, sucking in a breath as he palms the plump curve of your breast. âBecause youâre loyal,â he starts, and itâs almost reverent the way he almost whispers, âmy perfect little pet.âÂ
The world grinds to a halt.Â
Outside of this roomâthis momentânothing exists.Â
Too quiet, you ask, âWhat do you want from me, Kaz?âÂ
You want him to feel in control, to be the one that decides how this is gonna go. But your self-restraint is a fraying cord, mere seconds from snapping in half.Â
If it were up to you, how far would you go? How much of Kaz Brekker would you explore? As far as I could, you think, desperate. As much as heâd let me.Â
Thatâs the trouble with dogs. Theyâre loyal and clingy, forgiving and insistent. They want for everything and take whatever theyâre given. Theyâll spend hours begging at your feet. Lick scraps from the floor until their tongues begin to bleed.Â
When it comes to Kaz Brekker, youâll take whatever he has to give.Â
And youâll never stop begging for more, more, more.Â
âEverything.â His breath is warm against your lips, the leather cool on your breast. âI want everything.â
a/n - just in case anyone couldn't tell, i obviously just finished reading six of crows (yeah ik i'm very late to the party). i randomly started writing this while i was stuck in traffic and it just sort of spiraled over the past 24 hours and now here we are! this was born! idk if i'll get anymore kaz ideas, but it was fun writing something more dialogue heavy (dialogue has my heart<3)
#kaz brekker imagine#six of crows imagine#shadow and bone imagine#s&b netflix#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x fem!reader#kaz brekker x you#six of crows#shadow and bone fic#grishaverse imagine#grishaverse#kaz brekker x reader#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone x reader#six of crows x reader#shadow and bone
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love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)
summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.
or
itâs two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.
or
âHe has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way heâs just seen a band of ink around Kazâs ring finger.â
warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion
kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)
a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to međđ this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!
i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.
Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if itâs been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining thingsâ because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did âand then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way heâs just seen a band of ink around Kazâs ring finger.
Itâs not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that heâs seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)âs own ring finger.
ii. you break, i mend.
Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)âs left wrist more times than he can count.
The word âmendâ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it meansâ because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask âbut he thinks itâs fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesnât know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then heâll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and heâll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.
Jesper doesnât think much about (Y/N)âs tattooâ itâs pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. Thereâs nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kazâs own wrist.
He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesnât happen very often, if at all. But itâs the hottest day of summer theyâve had in Ketterdam in years, and theyâve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kazâs office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.
âBREAKâ. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but heâs almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.
Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and itâs probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesperâs mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)âs delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it canât be anything elseâ because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that âso he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.
He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.
The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kazâs tattoo.
(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesnât know any of the detailsâ not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all âbut he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.
âShe should be back by now,â is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesnât really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.
Just as Jesper feels like heâs about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. Sheâs got her hood on, doesnât look up from the floor when she walks in. Thereâs a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.
âWhere the fuck were you?â The words arenât directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesnât get like this often, cold and harsh because heâs worried, so the job mustâve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isnât assured.
(Y/N) looks up, and itâs only then that Jesper notices the blood. Itâs everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that itâs also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. Sheâs shaking. Full body tremors.
By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. Heâs already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, âIâm sorry.â
The apology goes ignored, âWhere are you hurt?â Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.
(Y/N) doesnât move, doesnât acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. Itâs hard when all there is to see is blood.
âIâm not hurt,â she responds, and itâs like sheâs in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize sheâs covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and itâs only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. Itâs stained red, all the way to the handle. âBloodâs not mine.â
Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.
Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.
It seems like sheâs just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. Itâs like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because heâs quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.
Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.
âLook at me,â Kaz instructs, but sheâs not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. Heâs only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadnât been this bad, sheâd been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kazâs words are cutting through the haze.
The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isnât capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesnât seem to hear him.
âI canâtââ Her lips are slowly losing color.
Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.
âBreathe,â he orders. Insistent, firm. Kazâs words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like itâs instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.
âGood girl.â Kazâs hand, the one that isnât on top of (Y/N)âs own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. âOne more time.â
She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.
âYouâre okay, match my breaths.â She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kazâs chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.
âIâll get her water,â he finds himself saying.
Kaz doesnât turn to look at him, âBring a wet cloth, too.â
Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like heâs having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.
Saints.
Itâs disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. Heâs never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesnât know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesnât want to begin to imagine what heâd meant.
The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.
âAre you with me?â
No response, but Jesper imagines that she mustâve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.
Itâs quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.
âIâm sorry.â The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.
âNone of that.â
âI didnât mean toâŠâ
âI know. Itâs okay.â
The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.
âItâs okay,â Kaz repeats, softer this time. Itâs a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.
âThere were children, Kaz,â Jesper has to strain to make out the words, theyâre muffled by something, âlittle kids. And it just reminded me of⊠I couldnât...â
âI know.â
A sniffle, âIâm sorry,â followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. âIâm a mess.â
Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesnât want to be present.
Itâs a good thing, too, that he doesnât make his way towards them, because heâs pretty sure he wouldâve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kazâs mouth.
âIf you break, I mend, remember?â
(mend
BREAK)
Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.
Saints be damned.
Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.
iii. a raven and a crow
The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)â which he just canât do, sheâs so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair âor unless he brings his curiosity to Kazâ which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, itâs merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldnât be that surprised.) And they arenât matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. Itâs different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where thereâs absolutely nothing to connect.
He canât help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. Itâs only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.
Itâs only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.
âInej?â
âGood.â
Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.
âJes?â
âVery much alive,â he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like itâs going to beat out of his chest, but at least itâs still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.
He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.
The goods are safe.
âNina?â
âHere.â Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isnât sure if itâs because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.
Thereâs silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)âs name and that can only mean that sheâs not there or sheâsâŠ
His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.
Kaz is not calling (Y/N)âs name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.
And thatâs when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)âs face as she listens to Kaz.
(Y/N) is always kindâ with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her âbut Jesper is just now realizing that thereâs a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. Itâs tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like heâs intruding.
And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)âs chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.
There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.
Jesper thinks he mightâve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina arenât paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.
Great, heâs all alone in trying to figure this thing out.
âIâm okay,â he hears (Y/N) reassure.
For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesnât miss the way sheâs pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasnât slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.
She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, âItâs not deep.â
Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. Itâs not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but itâs the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. Itâs been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what heâs done, but he hasnât missed the way Kaz doesnât cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesnât pale when someone brushes against him. He doesnât seek touch, but he doesnât lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)
âYouâve got it?â
âYeah, Iâll stitch it.â
His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.
âI can help you with that,â Nina pipes up.
Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrenderâs eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.
(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen inâ because he knows Nina wonât be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and heâs aching to know âbut heâs also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.
âWhat do you want?â Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.
Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.
âIâm not a nurse, Fahey.â
âYouâre gonna stitch her up!â (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.
âYeah, well,â Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, âSheâs my favorite.â
(Y/N) chuckles. Thereâs a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, âPrivileges, Jes.â
He pouts.
âSaints,â Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. Sheâs decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesnât turn to him as she says, âIf you stop doing that face Iâll see what I can do about the bruise.â
He smirks to himself, âYouâve got it, boss.â
Jesper canât see it, but heâs sure she rolls her eyes at him.
âTry not to move,â she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.
Itâs not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. Itâs a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.
He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesnât. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, âThatâs not a crow.â
Itâs only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because sheâd pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.
âNo, it isnât,â (Y/N) confirms. Sheâs got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like sheâs sleeping and not like sheâs having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or sheâs somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.
âA raven?â
âYeah.â
Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. Itâs small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.
Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorumâ just like Jesper had expected âbecause she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, âKaz calls you that.â
Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. Thatâs why Nina hadnât gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. Sheâd been distracted by something much more interesting.
And she hadnât identified the bird, sheâd just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, heâd assumed it to be her name. Heâs not quite sure how Nina, whoâs been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.
(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, âThat he does.â
Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.
âWhy?â She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.
Oh, sheâs insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes heâd have the audacity to ask such direct questions.
(Y/N) doesnât seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, âYou would have to ask him that.â
Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.
She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, âCâmon. Tell us.â
(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.
âYouâre bold,â (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. Thereâs something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesnât and it amuses her. âJes would never dare ask.â
âHey!â He pretends to be offended but isnât really. She knows him too well.
âYou know itâs true.â
He only grumbles in response, hates that sheâs right.
Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isnât quite sure if (Y/N)âs words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, âI like that. Your boldness.â
And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)âs approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. Sheâs like an older sister youâre always trying to impress.
Jesper thinks she wonât be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.
âRavens are softer than crows, more playful,â she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isnât even far from her, strains to hear, âGentler, too.â And itâs like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, âAnd yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.â
The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like heâs just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesnât miss that. Itâs how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. Thatâs (Y/N) to him.
âThatâs it?â Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesnât get it. She hasnât been with the Crows long enough to understand.
(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldnât mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. Thereâs even more to the meaning of the nickname and she wonât be sharing.
âIf you want more you can just ask Kaz.â
Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesnât even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.
âOw!?â The smirk remains on her face.
âSorry,â Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.
(Y/N) only chuckles, âI really do like your boldness.â
It isnât until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.
The image of a letter R inked in Kazâs forearm flashes through his mind.
R.
A Raven.
No fucking way.
He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.
Great, thatâs yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.
(Jesper doesnât know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kazâs skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)
iv. a broken lock and a key
Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. Itâs Jesperâs fault, heâd landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kazâs fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kazâs antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)
(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.
After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadnât missed the way theyâd said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.
He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theoryâ denial, really, heâs in denial, and heâs man enough to admit that to himself âbut he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasnât put a name on it yet, heâs not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.
Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasnât really an option. A shame, really, Jesper wouldâve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he canât complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesnât whine about how slow theyâre going, doesnât mention the fact that, by now, theyâre probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.
On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. Heâs not immediately filled by dread because heâs a light sleeper, heâs sure he wouldâve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and heâs even more certain that (Y/N) wouldâve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.
So, heâs not worried, but thereâs something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because heâs got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when theyâd ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.
Itâs only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.
Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadnât found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.
âSaints!â Itâs a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. âI am so sorry.â
(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, âRelax, Jes. Itâs okay.â
And sheâs saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out heâs just seen her completely nude.
He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.
She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.
âOh, please.â Thereâs amusement in her tone, âNothing you havenât seen before,â she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing heâs ever told her about his sexual encounters.
He huffs out a laugh. Itâs got nothing to do with that, Jesper isnât a prude, heâs just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he canât say that, thatâs a conversation heâs not ready to have, so he settles for, âYouâre like my sister, itâs not the same.â
âFair enough,â she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesnât think heâs ever told her how she sees her as family and she mustâve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe itâs different to hear it out loud.
âItâs my fault anyways, I shouldnât have left without telling you where I was going,â she disrupts his thoughts. âBut you were finally sleeping.â
âYeah,â he mumbles. Obviously it wouldnât slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night heâs been having a hard time falling asleep.
âYou shouldnât be standing for long,â she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if theyâre going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesnât sit right with himâ even if he knows sheâs capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state âso he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.
âYouâre gonna keep me company?â
Jesper hums in response, âTalk so I know you havenât suddenly been kidnapped.â
She doesnât talk, instead she sings. Itâs an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.
Itâs as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. Itâd been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.
Maybe itâs the soothing music, or maybe heâs slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, âIs it a key?â
(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.
âWhat?â she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.
âOn the back of your neck,â Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.
Thereâs silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasnât the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.
Sheâs still giggling when she says, âI canât believe you caught sight of it.â
Heâs confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, âIâve got a great vision.â
âThat you do,â she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.
And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brainâ he blames the pain and the lack of sleep âbecause he finds himself asking, âDoes Kaz have a lock, by any chance?â
Heâs teasing, but not really. Itâs a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.
To his surprise, she says, âYes, he does.â
His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that sheâs naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.
âWhat?â
Thereâs a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.
âYeah,â she repeats in mock seriousness, âheâs got a small lock around here,â she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. âItâs very pretty.â
âYouâre fucking with me.â
(Y/N) snickers, âMaybe I am.â She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.
Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kazâs shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.
v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.
As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.
âDid you finally figure it out?â
He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.
âWhat?â
She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.
âI caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,â Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. âAnd then you would get this constipated look on your face.â
Jesper sputters, âI do not look constipated.â
âOnly when youâre thinking too hard,â she teases, her smile bright. âSo, I figured, wellâŠâ
âThat I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?â
âYep, something like that,â she takes a sip of her drink. âHe is, by the way.â (Y/N)âs not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isnât surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. âAll the tattoos were his idea.â
Jesper feels like heâs really entered some other reality. He canât believe sheâs just telling him all this. Does this mean that he couldâve known months ago if heâd just asked?
âAnd,â he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. âYouâre married?â
He doesnât miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kazâs.
âYeah.â
âActually?â
She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. Itâs anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. Thereâs something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.
âGot the documents to prove it, too.â
Jesper sighs, astounded, âYou never said a thing.â
âWe didnât really keep it a secret, just private.â It sounds like an apology somehow. âIt's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."
Jesper understands.
He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like heâs drugged.
Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who wouldâve guessed.
âLovers, huh?â
(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.
ââLoversâ feels too small a word for what we are.â
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