#ooc: HEIST TIME!

[ford-between-dimensions]

[Ford walks around the back of the vet and starts climbing the bricks. Once he makes it to the roof, he pulls out his laser gun and switches a dial that lowers its power. He shoots an almost complete circle, using a knife to pry the slab of roof out. He looks down and sees a row of cages with triangles in them. Target spotted]

@prognostictriangle

[ofweave]

canon jarlaxle mention in bg3.

[drusjer]

what if fred is one of the grisha that matthias and nina saw lying on the floor at the ice court? ahaha.... what if.... what if i start crying? ahahaha

[yelenasbraid]

𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 — 𝒌𝒂𝒛 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒌𝒌𝒆𝒓

summary — kaz brekker has stacks of crumpled papers in his desk. no one knows what’s on those stacks of crumpled papers, or who they are addressed to.

warnings — gn!grisha!reader, angst, fluff, slightly ooc kaz because i’m still not convinced i write him good enough lol

𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐊. the papers that littered kaz brekker’s desk consisted of the usual. detailed plans of their next heist, stacks of kruge, blueprints, and other important records. that’s what everyone saw. no one saw the papers, crumpled, inside the drawers of his desk.

those papers were letters, words strung together to confess a deep rooted love. an emotion that kaz brekker wasn’t believed to have. every letter had a different version of what he wanted to tell you, but never did. he couldn’t bring himself to be vulnerable, to feel the pull of the waves at his feet. he told himself that he’d do it one day, but one day never came. it was too late.

the day you left shattered kaz. he never showed how much it affected him, not in the ways that were normal. he was irritable, more so than usual. he was irrational, he didn’t think things through and he was reckless. he was the things that he’d scold the dregs for being. the crows noticed, though. they always did.

the letters in his desk would go unread by you. the words he’d fought so hard to get right.

i can’t live without you. he sounded desperate.

the reason i come downstairs every evening is to make sure you’re alright. it was true, but again, kaz didn’t like how vulnerable he sounded.

you deserve someone better.

why did you stay with me? why not the little palace? what can i offer you that the little palace cannot?

every small slip of paper, every page, it laid crumpled in a drawer in his desk. every word he’d dreamt of saying to you, it was tucked away in a place that not even he looked at often. he didn’t want to be reminded of the vulnerability that lurked within those letters, the little boy that he fought so hard to keep down showed his face. he didn’t realize how much he needed you until you weren’t there.

“he’s getting worse,” he heard jesper say, and he would agree. he would never admit it, he would never let them see he was struggling. they could never know.

“there’s not much we can do. y/n’s in ravka, we can’t exactly make a quick trip,” nina spoke up this time. you were in ravka, alongside those who truly understood you.

“no, we can’t, maybe we could write?” wylan proposed. oh how kaz wanted to write, but where would he send it? should he send one of the letters he wrote? no, he couldn’t. they’d stay in his desk, in the drawer that rarely ever saw the candlelight.

so, he sat at his desk, going through the motions. he was as stone cold as he always was, ruling with an iron fist over the dregs. they never questioned him, even if he seemed to make irrational decisions or risky moves. that’s what he was all about, right? he didn’t need anyone. he never did.

rumor spread quickly of a ravkan ship docking in fifth harbor. kaz was disgusted at the hope that bubbled up in his chest. was it you? did you finally come back? back to him? regardless, he wouldn’t be out there. he wouldn’t be out there to greet you even though a weak part of him wanted to. he had to maintain his reputation.

you weren’t on that ravkan ship. you weren’t on any of the ones that followed either. kaz began to believe that you were never coming back, that the letters would sit in his office to never be read.

“i never told you i liked these,” you spoke, a smile blossoming on your face. kaz hid his own smile before saying,

“you sound so sure that i gave you those,”

maybe one day you’d come back and he’d tell you that those books were from him, the books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. maybe one day you’d come back and those letters would reach your fingers. little did he know, that day would come faster than he thought.

the doors to the crow club opened and shut, signaling the arrival of a patron. kaz sat in his office, blueprints in front of him. it was the layout of a mercher’s mansion, a man who owed kaz kruge but hadn’t paid up yet. he didn’t pay attention to the commotion downstairs, he didn’t hear the joy that rose up from the club. he didn’t notice anything until a knock sounded on his door. he didn’t answer, knowing whoever was on the other side would just let themselves in.

the door opened, and shut softly. kaz didn’t raise his head, he didn’t meet eyes with the person who walked through the door. soft footsteps echoed across the room, and for the first time in an hour, kaz looked up from the blueprints and laid eyes on no one other than you. he hid his surprise, his relief, but he didn’t hide his irritation, the anger of you leaving him.

“ravka not all what it seemed to be?” he asked, forcing himself to look at the blueprints. he couldn’t stare at you for too long, he knew that if he did he’d fall.

“ravka was fine,” you said as you walked closer to the desk, your eyes flicking over the blueprints. your words vibrated in his chest, causing an ache. please keep talking.

“then why are you back?” he asked, lifting his eyes to look at you. he admired you under the candlelight, how it reflected off of your skin in a way that was warm, unlike the bloated bodies that haunted his mind. you met his eyes, an ache of your own burying itself in your chest. did he care that you were gone at all?

“maybe because i wanted to be back, but i can go if that’ll ease your mind,” you bit out. kaz caught it, too. he could no longer focus on the blueprints, so he kept his eyes on you, holding your eye contact.

“no,” he swallowed. please don’t leave. silence fell between you, and you just stood there, admiring him for a moment. the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of his face, the way his hair was disheveled. you knew that he was different based on the testimonies of the others, but they told you it was because you left. you didn’t believe them, why would he care if you were gone?

“the others said things were different,”

“things are fine,”

“are they?” you asked, “kaz, what’s going on?” his heart sped up, but he managed to keep himself calm. he didn’t want you to leave again, he couldn’t bare it.

“it’s none of your concern,”

“stop lying,” you were serious. he clenched his jaw, wanting so badly to fire something back. to tell you that you had no business talking to him like that.

“you’re bold to accuse me of such a thing,” he snapped back.

“maybe i am,” you fired back. he hated this. he hated arguing with you, especially when you were right, which was more than half of the time. silence fell between you again, and kaz only looked at you. his expression, reluctantly, fell. he was so fed up with the papers in his desk taking up room, but also reminding him of his weakness, you.

he walked around behind his desk and pulled out the drawer, pulling out the papers. you watched him, your own expression softening. he walked back to you, hesitating. he shouldn’t be doing this. what if you never felt the same? what if he mistook all of those soft touches for something else? or the time you so gently cleaned his wounds after a job gone wrong? 

he shakily held a letter out to you. the one that he thought was the best of the several. you took it, and opened it, reading it slowly and digesting it.

stay. stay in ketterdam.

you folded it up, a smile on your face, and put it back in his hands, folding his gloved hands over top of it. kaz looked at you, his eyes searching your expression. his stomach bubbled with the desire to kiss you and the waves that threatened to overtake him. he couldn’t lose you again, so, he took your hand and brought it up to his cheek. your hand was warm against his skin, just how he’d thought it would be. you softly caressed his cheek before pulling away, noticing the waves starting to overtake him.

“i’m not going to leave you, kaz brekker,” you whispered. so, his letters became the letters he never sent. you were able to read them from there.

this is the winner of the polls! hope you guys enjoy and get your fill!

[alpurrtwhizkersss]

Omg you're taking six of crows requests?!?

Can I get a Kaz x fem!reader where the two of them are a couple (or trying to be) like Kaz is less snappy towards her, they're working on his touch aversion and everything.

But then on a heist gone wrong reader is hurt/stabbed/shot and falls into the Harbour, and Kaz is terrified because of the water but he's more terrified of losing his girl and he realizes that none of the other crows will reach her in time so he dives into the water to save her and when he drags her back onto the dock they just hug each other and the reader is apologizing for ruining the heist, Kaz is just holding her tightly and telling her it's ok, she's safe and that's how the rest of the crows find them, curled up at the end of the dock. Maybe some soft kisses?

Kaz trying to deal with his trauma in ways like this makes me happy

His Star

Requested By:  anonymous!

Warnings: Drowning, reader gets stabbed in the arm, Kaz deals with some trauma flashbacks/anxiety, possibly OOC Kaz.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Prompt: None

She/Her pronouns used to refer to reader.

Author’s Note:

hey!! sorry this one took so long, I haven't written for Kaz for a WHILE so I hope this meets your request!

Word Count: 1321

Kaz loved you.

Or, at least, you thought he did. He had never told you explicitly, but then, the ruthless young man had never told many people of his affections for them, choosing instead to close himself off to the world instead of facing his feelings.

Despite the mask he put over his emotions every day, you could still tell he loved you through the way he treated you, how he didn’t snap at you like he snapped at the other crows, and the way he looked at you.

Oh, how he looked at you.

Kaz Brekker looked at you as though he was a tired man, bound to the ground of the earth, weak and broken, and you were a star in the dark, endless sky waiting to lead him home, your brightness and your beauty incomparable to anything else.

There were many times Kaz had wanted to touch you, to reach his gloved hand out and graze it against your cheek, or to squeeze your thigh for comfort as you sat beside him, but he couldn’t. He feared that if he did, it would bring everything back. Bring Jordie’s death back. And the possibility was too painful to try.

You understood, of course, you would never push him to do anything he didn’t want to, so you left it alone. You never asked, you barely even thought, because even the idea of making Kaz uncomfortable or upset made guilt squeeze your heart sharply. You would listen if he brought up the idea, but you’d never do it yourself. You’d never put that burden on him over something he couldn’t control.

So you made do with what you had, you loved him in other ways, helping him with planning heists, gathering information to make his job easier, making sure he ate, checking up on him every so often (despite his protests), giving him small smiles across the Crow Club when you could see he was getting frustrated. Little things that made your presence known, but that didn’t intrude too much on his life, and you were happy that way.

“Y/N!” Jesper’s voice broke your thoughts as you slid down the rain-soaked tiles of the building you were scaling, landing gracefully on your feet as you shot along the gutter at the bottom and leaped onto the next one.

“What?” You yelled, hoping he would catch it over the raging wind, but all you heard in response was silence, and you realised you could no longer hear the cracking of his boots against the tile. 

Risking a look behind you, you caught your gaze on Jesper’s long figure clambering back up the roof, two others, Inej and Wylan, caught your eye as well, though, where Kaz was you had no idea, and you skidded to a halt, stopping for a moment as you watched the security of the bank you’d just attempted to rob begin gaining on you, their yells rising far above the torrential weather, you watched the other Crows running along the top of the roof, you only caught on to why they were doing this as you turned back, and felt a swift, violent pain crash through your upper arm, you let out an ear piercing scream as the shock and pain overwhelmed you, making your vision blur and your knees buckle underneath you. Almost as soon as you made a noise, you heard Jasper’s pistols shoot rounds into your attacker’s body, quickly able to take out some other guards from his high-up position, yet nobody came to save you as your body tumbled into the freezing harbour water that cascaded against the walls of the bank.

Kaz yelled your name as he watched you disappear off the side of the roof and into the waters below. He had already chosen to stay behind when he realised that you had not heard Jesper’s call to retreat upwards, and he thanked the Saints that he did when he began racing towards the edge of the roof, still screaming your name as he searched for your body in the blackness beneath him.

For the first time in a while, Kaz took a sharp, relieved inhale at the sight of your head poking above the water, and soon your arms came thrashing with it.

As you caught sight of Kaz, you began yelling, mostly unintelligible words, but he heard his name ring in his ears, and he swore he felt his heart tear itself out of his chest when he recognised the fear in your voice.

The fear in your voice that brought him back to that night. With Jordie. Jordie and the boat. And the eerie silence only broken every so often by the groans of the wood and the shifting of clothes against the bodies of the victims that the plague had so cruelly taken.

No. Kaz scolded himself. Stop. Stop, you have to help Y/N. She’ll die if you don’t help her.

He didn’t give himself time to think again before throwing himself into the freeze after you, and almost immediately he felt the same horrible effect that he felt that night with Jordie begin to take hold.

He pushed through it as he kept his mind on you. He couldn’t let you die.

If you died, he didn’t know what he would do with himself, he likes to tell himself that he could get through anything. That grief didn’t affect him anymore.

But with you? You were his star, and if you weren’t there anymore, his sky would go dark.

Kaz could hear your sobs echoing through the night air as he pulled himself through the current and closer to you. Almost as soon as he touched your skin with his gloved hands, he had to stop himself from letting the panic take over, soon becoming grounded once again by your whimpers and pleas for help.

“C-come here, Y/N.” He stammered out, the temperature of the water mixed with the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his speech slurred and awkward as he pulled you towards his chest.

You soon found yourself approaching the harbour, and Kaz made it his first priority to hoist your body up onto the wooden decking, quickly pulling himself up after.

As soon as you were safely out of the water, you backed yourself up against a wall, leaning to the side to cough up what you’d managed to inhale during your panic. Kaz soon made his way over to you, rubbing your back gently as you grasped the wall for support, before falling back against it, still shaking with the sobs that left your lips. You soon felt Kaz move his hand hesitantly to the back of your neck, before taking a deep breath and pulling you in closer to him, holding you tightly.

“I’m sorry…” You cried, taking the collar of his soaked jacket into your hands as he shushed you. “I’m so, so sorry, Kaz, I- I ruined everything. I’m so useless-” You buried your head in his jacket as he shook his head, staring down at you with as serious a stare as he could manage, despite his heart rate going at 30 miles per hour.

“No, no, Y/N, stop it. You didn’t ruin the heist. It was doomed from the start, it was a stupid idea anyway. All that matters is that you’re safe, do you understand me? You’re alright, and you’re with me, and nothing’s going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice managed to soothe your racing heart and mind, and your gentle nods soothed his own as he dared to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

That was how the Crows found you both that night. Kaz wrapped protectively around you, every so often placing gentle kisses to your hair, and you, his star, encased safely in his arms, having never felt so much love from anybody in your life.

[mcntsee]

cold

summary: Y/N faces hypothermia after a dangerous mission. Kaz helps her warm up by the fire, their bond growing stronger.

warnings: The story contains scenes of peril, violence, and life-threatening situations. Kaz is not fully ok with y/n’s touch, but he fights trough it. Ooc Kaz.

notes: Posting this again because it won’t show up in the #

On a moonlit night, the crew moved stealthily towards their next heist, anticipation electrifying the air. The target: the elusive Heart of Nebula, a gem said to hold secrets from the stars themselves, and worth even more, now resting within the hold of a formidable merchant ship. Kaz Brekker's mind hummed with strategies as he and his crew prepared to infiltrate the vessel, a symphony of darkness and cunning.

The assault began with a fierce volley of blows and flashing knives, the Crows expertly weaving through the chaos of the guards. Amidst the clash of metal and cries of alarm, Y/N's prowess shone bright as she fought with a grace that belied her strength. But in the midst of the turmoil, the situation took a turn.

One of the guards managed to corner Y/N, his arm snaking around her neck while a cold barrel pressed against her temple. The edge of the ship loomed dangerously close, its abyssal depths waiting hungrily. Kaz's icy eyes snapped toward the scene, his cane slicing through the guard before him with lethal precision. Without hesitation, he moved toward the guard who held Y/N captive.

The guard's voice rang out, its venomous tone laced with desperation. "Make them leave, Brekker, or the girl takes a plunge."

Kaz's gaze was as unforgiving as the sea's depths as he assessed the situation. A subtle nod towards his crew was met with hesitation, a collective tension palpable in the air. Yet, the Crows trusted their leader's decision and reluctantly retreated, fading into the shadows like wraiths.

With the other Crows gone, Kaz approached the edge of the ship, his voice a chilling breeze. "They're gone. Let her go now."

The guard's laughter was mirthless, his grip on Y/N relenting just enough for her to catch her breath. "You're quite the strategist, Brekker. But this time, you've lost." Kaz's eyes darkened, "You're the one holding the losing hand."

The guard's response was a cold, harsh warning. "One step closer, and I'll blow her brains out, Brekker."

In the deadly hush that followed, Y/N's eyes flickered to Kaz's, a subtle nod passing between them like a secret shared only between souls deeply connected. In the space of a heartbeat, Y/N's hidden blade flashed into her hand, finding purchase in the guard's leg. The gun wavered, and in that instant, Y/N twisted her body, pushing the gun skyward. The guard's grip slipped, and Y/N tumbled over the edge, disappearing into the inky depths below.

Kaz's gloved hand tightened on his cane as he stared at the fallen guard, fury simmering beneath his calm façade. With a swift, efficient motion, he rendered the guard unconscious, the cold weight of his cane delivering justice.

Breathless seconds ticked by, tension thick in the salty air. Kaz's sharp gaze scanned the dark waters, searching for any sign of Y/N. Relief flooded him as her head broke the surface, her voice piercing through the night. "I'm fine!" A sigh of relief escaped Kaz's lips. Y/N's determination was palpable as she called out, her voice carrying above the water's gentle lapping. "I'll swim to shore. Go ahead."

Kaz watched as she began to swim, her strokes strong and determined. With a final glance at the ship, he turned and walked away, his steps resolute and measured.

As Kaz reached the shore, he cast his gaze over the moonlit waters, waiting anxiously for Y/N’s return. His heart was a relentless drumbeat, matching the rhythm of the waves. The moment her form emerged from the darkness, shivering and weakened, he closed the distance between them. Urgency propelled his actions.

“Get rid of the clothes,” he instructed firmly, his voice laced with concern. “They’re wet and will make you colder.”

Y/N’s nod was slow, her trembling fingers fumbling with the soaked fabric as she undressed. Kaz turned his head, a gesture both respectful and protective. In a deliberate and almost rehearsed motion, he removed his coat and held it out to her. She accepted it with a shaky “Thanks.” her voice barely above a whisper.

As Kaz’s sharp eyes examined her, a surge of worry pulsed through him. The sight of her pale, chilled skin and lips tinged with blue sent an unexpected pang through his chest, a haunting echo of memories long buried. But he shoved those ghosts aside, focusing on the task at hand. Y/N needed him now.

“Y/N,” he heard her voice, fragile and wavering like a whispered plea. “We have to get you somewhere warm.”

Nodding at her, he guided her towards the Slat, their steps slow and deliberate. But soon, it became apparent that her strength was waning, her movements faltering as her eyes fought to stay open. Kaz’s instincts kicked in, and he brought them to a nearby safe house. “Stay awake, Y/N,” he urged, his voice a lifeline.

With the gentlest touch, he grasped her sleeve, guiding her with utmost care. Inside the safe house, the dim glow of the fireplace greeted them. Kaz moved with practiced efficiency, gathering wood and coaxing flames to life. “Take the coat off,” he instructed softly. “I’ll get you blankets.”

Y/N’s trembling grew more pronounced. Her weakened state made even the simple act of unbuttoning her coat a struggle, her shivering fingers fumbling with each button. Kaz watched for a moment, concern etched on his face, before taking a step forward.

“May I?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a rare tenderness, pointing towards the buttons. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting his as she nodded slightly. A barely audible “Please” slipped from her lips as he delicately unbuttoned her coat. His movements were careful, his touch a lifeline, as he worked the coat off her shoulders.

He noticed Y/N’s weakened posture, her struggle to remain upright, and her eyes that threatened to close for longer with each blink. A gentle tap to her cheek accompanied his soft words, urging her to stay awake. Once the coat was removed, he set it aside, then settled Y/N close to the warmth of the fireplace.

Debates waged within his mind as he assessed the situation. Should he fetch a blanket or offer his own warmth to stave off the cold? Y/N’s sudden cessation of shivering tilted the balance, a sign that he couldn’t ignore. He quickly discarded his clothes, his urgency matched only by his fear. Ghosts of his past slowly attacking his mind. But that fear was replaced with a resolute determination as he reminded himself that he had to help her. For fuck’s sake. She’s dying, do something!

“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice a lifeline in the quiet room. He moved swiftly to her side, his heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and purpose. He hesitated for a moment, the depth of his feelings surfacing before he banished them, replacing them with a driving need to save her.

“Y/N, look at me,” he whispered urgently, his hands cupping her face gently. The storm in his eyes met the battle in hers, a silent affirmation that they were in this together. “Stay awake, Y/N.”

With quick, precise movements, he guided her closer, his arms enfolding her delicate form. He drew her legs over his lap, holding her securely, a barrier against the cold that threatened to steal her away. His heart raced as he whispered her name, a litany of small pleas and encouragements, willing her to hold on.

His hands moved over her body, a desperate attempt to generate warmth. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, rubbing and caressing in a rhythm meant to bring life back to her numbing limbs. A sigh of relief escaped him as her body began to respond, her shivers returning.

“That’s good, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of relief and reassurance. “That’s good.”

Y/N’s voice trembled, her weariness evident as she spoke of her desire to rest, if only for a moment. Kaz’s response was a gentle yet unwavering plea. “Hold on a little longer, Y/N. You’re doing good.”

As the warmth of the fire seeped into the room, color began to return to Y/N’s face, a welcome transformation that Kaz couldn’t help but watch with a mixture of relief and gratitude. Her lips, once tinged with blue, regained their natural hue, easing the knot of worry in his chest. He assessed her carefully, the weight of his concern slowly lifting as she regained strength.

Gradually, he eased her down, his touch gentle as he ensured she was comfortable before he rose to his feet. “I’m going to get you some blankets, Y/N,” he announced, his voice soft. Y/N met his gaze and thanked him, her gratitude a quiet melody in the stillness of the room.

Kaz put his pants back on before he climbed the stairs, his steps measured, his mind focused on the task at hand. In the closet, he found a collection of blankets, each one a comforting refuge against the cold. When he returned to the room, he laid one blanket on the ground for Y/N to sit on, then carefully wrapped a second one around her, his movements deliberate yet tender.

Settling back down beside her, Kaz draped the third blanket around himself, creating a barrier of warmth between them. The room was filled with a palpable sense of quiet, an unspoken understanding that permeated the space. Moments stretched on, the fire’s crackle and pop providing a gentle rhythm to their thoughts.

Y/N, who looked remarkably better now, broke the silence with words that carried a depth of meaning. “Thank you, Kaz.” Her voice was soft yet sincere.

Kaz’s response was equally quiet, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability. “No problem.”

Y/N glanced away briefly before turning her gaze back to him, her eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and something more. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” she said, her words holding a weight that was both apologetic and appreciative. “I know it must’ve been hard.”

Kaz’s mind churned, reflecting on the moments they had shared, the emotions that had surged through him. He hesitated, grappling with his own thoughts before the words emerged, honest and unfiltered. “For you, I would do it again,” he admitted, his voice a gentle affirmation of his feelings.

In response, Y/N’s smile was soft, her eyes reflecting a warmth that mirrored the fire’s glow. “I would do it for you too, Kaz. Anything.” Her words held an earnestness that touched him, a willingness to stand by him no matter the challenge.

[amsgrey]

request for a kaz brekker x reader one bed trope! literally some of my favorite fics to read ever!!! def with some angst maybe reader gets injured on the heist and kaz has to help. reader insists that they should sleep in the same bed and they end up confessing feelings or something. SO GOOD

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long but hey, it's alright.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, typical canon violence, kind of OOC!Kaz, semi-bad writing.

“Hey,” Nina didn’t bother knocking as she stepped into your room, “There’s someone here to see you.” 

You looked up from your small desk, “Who?” 

Nina shrugged, “Wouldn’t say, but she won't leave until she speaks with you.” 

You frowned, getting to your feet and following after Nina. A million possibilities ran through your mind as you descended the stairs, you didn’t know many people from Ketterdam, or you didn’t know anyone that Kaz also didn’t know. WHo had come to speak to you was a complete mystery to you and judging by the way the Crows were gathered at the bottom of the stairs, it was a mystery to them too. 

“Who is she?” Jesper broke the heavy silence first.

You rolled your eyes, “How am i supposed to know, Jes?” 

Walking past him and the others you looked for the woman. There were a few dregs hanging around in the slat, like always. Hiding from the damp Ketterdam air or filling in their afternoons with ale and gambling. It meant the woman stuck out like a sore thumb. When you finally saw her, your blood ran cold. 

“Oh, my,” The woman stepped forward, she grabbed your hands and smiled at you, “Look how grown up you are, my dear.” 

She pulled you into a hug, an awkward show of affection that she had never done before. 

“Mother.” 

She hadn’t changed in the 7 or so years since you saw her last, a few graying hairs and wrinkles around her eyes were the only evidence time had passed. She still wore the same turquoise dress, the fabric stained and dirty where it spent too many years dragging on the dirt. She had tied a knitted shawl around her shoulders, to stave off the cold of the barrel and to make herself look more presentable. When you were a child on the farm with your parents, your mother would refuse to do any of the hard labor or household duties, always dressed in her ‘fine’ clothes and sitting by a window like the queen of Ravka. 

You hated her for it then, the way she forced you to conduct her duties. The hard labor with your father on the farm, the chores inside the home, raising your three younger siblings. Looking at the woman before you now, you hated her just as much. 

“What do you want, mother?” You forced out through gritted teeth. 

The woman batted your hand she still held, a sharp smack to chide you for your tone, “Is that how you speak to the woman who raised you?” 

She didn’t raise you though. Your father was the one who taught you everything you knew, cared and loved you. The marriage of your parents had been of convenience, a rich farmer up the road had fallen on hard times so he married off his only daughter to your father. Something neither of them wanted. 

When your father had died suddenly in a farming accident, your mother had sold you to slavers, without a second thought. You had spent years in Ketterdam trying to bury the memories of your younger brothers screaming for you to stay, the chains that chaffed and burnt your skin and the cruel men who didn’t care about anything but making coins. 

Standing with your mother before you, her soft hands gripping you so tightly, you felt like a young girl all over again. Begging for affection from a woman who hated your existence, cursed to always be nothing to her. You could still remember the beatings and the screaming, the bruises that you tried to hide and the permanent split in your lip which took years to properly heal. 

Kaz was watching the whole encounter, quiet and calculating like he always was. The other crows were growing concerned, there was an air of uncertainty that settled over them all. 

“What can we help you with?” Kaz finally spoke, he stepped closer to you, towering over your mother. Having him at your side brought you ease, a feeling of calm that always came over you when he was near. Kaz was prepared for anything, he always looked out for you and the crows. 

“And you are?” Your mother snapped, glaring at Kaz. 

Kaz didn’t seem bothered, “Are you here for something? Or to terrorize your daughter?” 

You glanced back at Kaz, he had a look of pure rage in his eyes. You hadn’t told Kaz the details of your past, but he knew your mother sold you to slavers. You realized suddenly you didn’t want to be in the middle of Kaz and your mother fighting. 

You grabbed your mothers arm, dragging her away from the gathered Crows and Kaz’s glower and pulling her outside. In the Ketterdam air things were immediately colder, you hadn’t grabbed your coat so you could feel it even more. 

“What are you doing here?” You demanded. 

“Can I not come see my daughter?” 

“You never cared before, I didn’t even know you knew this is where I lived. You sold me to slavers,” You cried, stepping away as you started to get upset. “What in Sankta Alina could you want?” 

“I am married,” Your mother boasted, “He lives in the Zelver district, we want you to come have dinner.” 

You were reeling, so much information was thrown at you all at once. You gapped to answer. 

“Your brothers will be there too,” Your mother waved her hand like she was dismissing your concerns, “They stayed on the farm.”

“Why- why do you want me there?” 

“To make amends, my love,” She took your hands again, “It is time we act like a family again. Perhaps you could bring that guard dog of yours, act civilized.” 

You wanted to say yes, straight away you wanted to say yes and trust that she had true intentions. But there was something nagging in your mind. 

“Who is it that you're married to, mother?”

“A Merchant, trades with the Ravkan crown, Alexei Berezin.” 

You recognized the name immediately, he had one of the largest mansions in the Zelver district, rivaled only by foreign dignitaries. He had brought in a large shipment of Ravkan gold and silk, Kaz had stolen half of it almost immediately, because Berezin had thought himself untouchable. 

“When's dinner?” You forced out, trying not to let your knowledge of the man show. 

“Tomorrow, be there by seven.” 

She wandered away, slipping into the crowd of foot traffic and joining the mess of colours. 

-- 

“Alexei Berezin.”

You forced a smile, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

The man looked over you and Kaz like you were nothing, he grunted in greeting and disappeared towards the drinks cart. 

You looked at Kaz, “Too late to leave?” 

Kaz smiled, it made him look softer somehow, “We don’t have to stay long, let's hope Inej and Wylan are quick.” 

A servant greeted you as you walked further into the drawing room, she offered you and Kaz wine in crystal glasses. You had played being rich at banquets and galas before, it was easy to hide in a crowd of rich people to steal from them, but here holding the crystal glass made you feel so exposed. The only thing that was stopping you from running out the door was Kaz by your side. He always looked out for you, tonight would be no different. 

Your mother had lied, your brothers were not at the dinner. She had spun some more lies about how they hadn't been able to make the journey but you wondered if they were even invited in the first place. You, Kaz, your mother and her new husband all sat at the ridiculously long table, eating silently except for a few forced comments. 

“So,” Berezin belched, downing his fourth glass of brandy, “Mr Brekker, how is business?”

Kaz looked at you from across the table, “As good as yours, Berezin.” 

Berezin snared, “So then you admit to taking my shipment?” 

“A shipment?” Kaz leant back, starting to enjoy the game. 

Berezin started getting red in the face, rage barely contained in his eyes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Dirty Hands.” 

A smile ghosted across Kaz’s face, “Is this why you extended the invite, Berezin? Hoping to get your silks back?” 

You jumped when Berezin slammed his fist on the table, he stood abruptly, his chair falling backwards loudly, “You listen to me here boy! You will pay me back what I am owed or I will make your life a living hell!” 

“A living hell?” 

“You have no idea who you are messing with, you and your little whore will pay-” 

Kaz was on his feet faster than you had time to process, “Watch your mouth, Berezin, or silks won't be the only thing you lose.” 

Berezin started shouting in rage, his words mostly coming out as jumbled insults and threats which didn’t mean anything for you and Kaz. 

“We’re leaving,” You said to your mother, not bothering to bid her a proper goodbye as you joined Kaz’s side and retrieved your coats. 

You were both halfway through the foyer when things took a turn. 

Somewhere in the garden outside a fire roared to life, a green chemical fire that was Wylan's emergency beacon. Kaz urged you to walk faster, his cane striking loudly against the marble floor as you both tried to leave before Berezin caught on. 

“Thief!” 

Kaz grabbed your hand, and both of you ran the rest of the way out of the house and down the garden path. Berezin was screaming from inside the house, shouting orders to his few guards and screaming for someone to alert the Stadwatch. You and Kaz didn’t stop running until you reached the canal, skittering to a stop and dropping into the waiting boat. Matthias and Wylan were already there, Wylan was heaving like he had just finished a mad dash too. 

“Did you get it?” Kaz demanded as Matthias started to row the boat towards 4th Harbor. 

Wylan was nodding, “Handed it off to Inej, she and Jesper are heading to the warehouse now.”

You had to give it to Kaz, when he had explained the plan this morning after all-night scheming, you didn’t think you would be able to pull it off. But yet again, he proved he knew everyone's skills. 

The plan was somewhat simple, you and Kaz would entertain Berezin while Wylan posed as a servant and slipped into Berezin's office. Wylan would swipe the key to Berezins safe which sat in his warehouse; it was old and Ravkan, protected by small science. You didn’t have enough time on the first job to try and crack it, so now was the perfect time. The original plan was for you and Kaz to stay all through dinner and whatever other pleasantries were to be had, while Wylan snuck through undetected. His Green fire beacon was a sign he had been caught, so you and Kaz hightailed out before things got too nasty. 

 Inej and Jesper were on their way to the safe now, while you, Kaz, Matthias and Wylan drew attention in the opposite direction. Headed towards 4th Harbor meant the four of you could lead the following guards and Stadwatch into the twisting streets and narrow wharves and hopefully escape into the crowd. 

As Matthias moored the boat to the side of the canal, you and Wylan climbed out and surveyed where you were. 

“Are you alright?” You asked him, still aware of how his hands shook. 

Wylan nodded, but you were unconvinced. 

Matthias and Kaz climbed out of the boat after you, the four of you standing at the canal edge for a moment while you tried to compose yourselves. 

“Hey! Stop right there!” 

“Bastards,” Kaz swore, already ushering the three of you to run before they started to shoot. 

“Kaz, they're after us, not Wylan and Matthias…” You shouted as you ran down the street alongside the canal, headed towards the Council of the Tides Watchtower. 

Kaz ordered everyone to stop, “Y/N’s right, Wylan, Matthias, head back towards the slat, take the long way and check for tails, we’ll go the opposite way.” 

Matthias started to argue, “No, we should-” 

You all ducked as gunfire echoed through the streets. Bullets ricochet off the cobbles at your feet, dangerously close to hitting one of you. 

“Go!” Kaz yelled over the noise, blindly reaching for your hand and pulling you along with him as you headed away from Matthias and Wylan and towards the government district. 

You were right, the three or four guards from Berezin's estate followed you, not your friends as you rushed through the dark streets. At this time of the night, the Crow Club and the surrounding area would be buzzing with life, but in this part of town, everyone was shut inside asleep. There weren’t many lights, aside from a few lanterns left on in people's doorways, so as you and Kaz ran you stuck to shadows and unlit alleyways, hoping to lose your stalkers in the maze of buildings. 

Kaz pulled you to a stop after running for ten minutes and started to take a toll on him and his leg. The two of you ducked into an alley, Kaz leaned heavily against the wall and his cane, heaving as he regained his breath. You glanced over him, worried that he wouldn’t be able to continue for much longer. 

“Maybe we lost them,” You whispered, peaking around the corner to the main street, which was completely deserted aside from a rogue tabby. 

Kaz nodded, unable to speak a reply. You kept glancing from the main street to the end of the alley, which appeared as if it curved around and kept going. You had no idea if it was a dead end or not, but staying here was making you anxious, it was still too exposed. 

“I Have a safe house not far from here,” Kaz said, pushing off from the wall and leaning on his cane. 

“A safe house?” You replied, “In the government district?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “You underestimate me.” 

If he hadn’t been hurt you would have pushed him away, chuckling at his comment. Instead, you opted for offering him your arm so you could walk out of the alley together, hopefully, Stadwatch who patrolled the area would think you were a couple returning home. 

The two of you walked arm and arm down a few streets, smiling pleasantly at the passing Stadwatch or the rare delegate returning to their boarding. After a few turns Kaz said you weren’t far from the safe house, which was an old apartment above a tailor.

“How did you even get an apartment above a tailor?” You teased, “Hiding a side business?”

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you both in your tracks. 

“You even twitched, I put a bullet in the girl.” 

The barrel of the gun was jammed into your back, the voice behind you ordering you both to turn with your hands up. 

The two men before you were guards for Berezin, you could tell from the crest that was pinned to their jackets. You looked around for the other two men, but they weren’t around. Hopefully, they were far away, you weren't sure if you could win a 2-1 battle tonight.

You moved to pull your flint from your pocket, you had stowed it away safely the first time you and Kaz had run for your lives tonight, now you wished you stayed holding it. Your hand slipped into the pocket of your coat, your fingertips brushed the cool material, pulling into your fist and preparing yourself to summon. You only had one chance at this. The sound of the gun firing struck you first, the deafening crack that bounced from the walls. The searing pain in your right side forced your fist open in shock, your flint clattering to the cobbles as your other hand came to cradle your side. Immediately your blood started seeping through your fingers, soaking through your coat and dripping onto the street below. You looked up at the man who shot you, just in time to see Kaz bring his cane cracking into the side of the man's face. It sent him sprawling, the force of the blow knocking him off balance. You used your opportunity to kick the second man in the shin, stunning him for long enough for Kaz to incapacitate him too. 

Kaz wound his arm around your waist, pulling you away from the two men as they groaned on the ground and dragging you up the street. 

“Just hold on a little longer,” He spoke as he led you down another side alley, “We’re almost there.”

He forced you to stop before an old door as he fiddled with the lock. The dark green paint was peeling, revealing the chipped and water-stained wood. Kaz flickered with the lock for a few seconds and the door swung open, revealing a steep staircase into the safe house. 

“You’re kidding,” You groaned, letting Kaz shuffle you into the small space as he shut and locked the door. 

“Go on then,” Kaz smirked, pushing you up the stairs. 

The two of you climbed up the stairs, silent as you struggled together. When you reached the top, Kaz opened the final door and you both tumbled through over the threshold. The safe house was less of a house and more of a safe room. Filled with crates and shadows of objects you couldn’t make out, it felt much more cramped than your room in the Slat. Kaz pulled out his bone light, casting the room in the pale green light. With the new light, you could see the space clearer. A sink in the far corner close to the only window, and a bed pushed as far from the window as possible. You stumbled over to the sink, holding yourself up on the basin as you tried to get a look in the small mirror at your wound. 

“Let me help,” Kaz ordered, pulling out a crate from the wall and forcing you to sit down. 

Kaz looked over your side, letting you know the bullet had gone straight through, but would need some stitches and to be cleaned. There was a pause where you both realized you would have to remove your coat and top so Kaz could see better. With shaky hands, you slowly unbuttoned your coat. Kaz helped you guide it off your shoulders, letting it fall out of the way. 

“You’ll have to unzip my dress,” You whispered to Kaz, hands going back to your throbbing side. 

Kaz cleared his throat, nodding and stepping around you to follow your instructions. You could feel the smooth leather of his gloves ghost over the skin on your neck as he fiddled for the zip. He couldn’t get a good grip, abandoning one of his gloves on the floor so he could hold the small tab properly. Kaz’s fingers were freezing, When he touched the skin on your back the chill seeped under your skin and into your bones. You focused all your energy on not shivering against the feeling. He gently folded the dress down, letting it fall around your hips so he could see the bullet wound clearer. It left you in your bra and skirt half of your dress, yet you didn't feel exposed. Kaz was nothing if not respectful to you and you truly felt nothing but trust for him now.

 There were no words between you as Kaz stepped to your side and crouched down. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, but he was focused solely on your wound, his brow scrunched up in a frown. 

The two of you stayed silent as Kaz worked. You handed him what he asked for, a wet rag, sutures and a needle, a bandage. When he had finally tied off the last stitch, he started to bandage your waist. By now he had abandoned his other glove to the floor too, both of them covered in your blood and useless to him. He focused on the warmth of your skin as he wrapped the bandage around your waist, making sure to wrap it a few times to ensure it was secure. When he was finished, he noticed how quiet you had gotten, staring down at the floor with slightly glazed eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Kaz’s voice came out more of a croak, just above a whisper. It pulled you from your dissociation, pulling you into the moment. You turned to look at him, The bastard of the Barrel kneeling by your side, hands stained with your blood and the most caring, almost loving look in his eyes. 

You must have lost more blood than you thought, Kaz did not love you. 

“I’m fine.” 

Kaz nodded once, shakingly pushing himself off the ground and turning on the water to wash clean his hands. You didn’t move from the crate, mostly because you were unsure of what to do and also because there wasn’t exactly space to move in the room anyway. 

“You should sleep.” Kaz said, refusing to look up at you from the sink. 

“We both should. You can take the bed.” 

Kaz shook his head, “No. You're injured, you take it.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Did you sleep last night Kaz?” 

There was a heavy silence. 

“So you need to sleep now. There's plenty of room for both of us anyway.” 

You knew as soon as you said it the atmosphere had changed. It was well known Kaz kept his distance when he wasn’t wearing gloves. You had rarely seen him without them no matter where he was. After the longest silence, Kaz finally nodded, letting out the quietest, “Okay.” 

He turned to you, “There should be a stash of clothes in one of these crates, I could find them?” 

You smiled, nodding. Sitting with the top of your dress folded down was starting to get cold and sleeping like this would only make things more awkward. 

Kaz riffled through a few crates, finding ammo and whiskey before finding the crate filled with shirts and trousers. He pulled one of each out, setting them on the bed and turning his back so that you could get changed with some semblance of modesty. It was amusing for you, that he had already seen enough but he was too kind to even risk a glance now. 

When you had gotten into the clothes, with a little struggle trying to lift your arm into the sleeve, you pulled back the quilt on the bed. Kaz helped, letting you shuffle across the bed to where it pressed to the wall. The bed was so much bigger than your one, more likely double the size. Your bed hardly fits you in it, slightly too short and skinny because of the awkward rooms of the Slat. This bed was different. Although not as soft as your own, the size meant you and Kaz both had enough room so that you weren’t too close. 

Kaz was about to lie the quilt down and get on top when you stopped him. 

“Are you mad?” 

“What?” He scoffed, confused as to why you were heckling him now.

“Kaz Brekker, you will get cold. Just get under the quilt and stop acting like we’re some teenagers who can’t get ahold of ourselves.” 

Kaz stared at you in shock, blinking down at you with pure perplexion in his eyes. 

“Jesper was right,” He sighed, getting situated under the quilt to please you. 

“Right about what?” You pressed, turning in the bed to fix him with a glare. 

“You are cranky when you're tired.” 

“Oh shut up,” You scoffed, rolling back to stare at the ceiling and now him. 

Kaz chuckled, by now the bone light was fading steadily, the pale green light becoming nothing more than a faint glow from the corner of the room. You couldn’t see Kaz’s face too well, barrel able to make out the faint outline of his features in the dark. 

For a while, the two of you lay in silence, the only noise coming from the far-off sound of waves in the harbor. With no one else on the streets, every time footsteps echoed around in the streets below, you held your breath. 

“They won’t find us,” Kaz whispered, feeling you tense next to him. 

You didn’t respond, trying not to panic yourself further. 

“Listen to me,” Kaz shifted, the bed shaking slightly under you both, “We’re safe here, I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.” 

“Wasn’t your fault,” You responded, mirroring Kaz’s movements to face him, “Jobs go wrong sometimes.” 

Kaz didn’t react, “Sleep. We’ll head back to the salt when the city wakes up.” 

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but Kaz being by your side to protect you filled you with a sense of ease. You could relax back into the pillow and trust that he was going to look after you, no matter what. As you slipped into sleep, you thought dreamily about how much you cared for the bastard of the barrel, even if he didn’t share the same feelings. 

Kaz was thinking the same as he watched over you. He sat up in the bed as soon as you had fallen asleep, staring at the door in the dark, prepared for anything that might come barreling through it. He cared too much about you to let you get hurt again, especially when he was the only one around to protect you. He would never say it out loud, like you, but he would do anything to protect you from harm in the city where no one mourned. 

[misscongeniality18]

Hi! I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SO MUCH SO I'M HERE AGAIN! This time I would like to ask you to write something about Kaz Brekker and reader where she is like a longtime friend and a member of the Crows. The two have always had feelings for each other but never spoke about it so, when they argue because something dangerous happens, the truth comes out and a smut at the end?! I love this prompt so much. I don't know why but I'm so obsessed with best friends to lovers!

OMG girl yes, I love this trope too! This is my first fic with any smut, but I'll try my best! I also didn't mean to make this so long, but it just sort of happened?

Movement - Kaz Brekker (18+, Minors DNI)

Synopsis ! You and Kaz have been friends forever, but lately, you couldn't help but want something more. When the two of you are put in danger's path, both of your truths are out in the open. Pairing ! Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Genres ! Friends-to-lovers, angst, fluff, smut Warnings ! Violence, blood, danger, language, reader is the only one who can touch Kaz, maybe slightly ooc Kaz?, kissing, nudity, sexual content (fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex [wrap it up people]) Word Count - 3047

" When you move

I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be

When you move

I could never define all that you are to me "

- Movement, Hozier

Masterlist Request Guide

You and Inej ran across the rooftops, jumping from gable to gable. Tonight's heist had a plentiful bounty that sat nestled in Inej's pockets. The two of you had been charged with stealing some pieces of the Ravkan crown jewels that had been taken from the palace and illegally sold.

What did Kaz want with stolen jewels? He may be your best friend, but not even you could read his mind. He had tells, of course, as did almost everybody, but Kaz’s past made him especially skillful at hiding them. You knew this all too well.

After all, you had been the one to pull him out of the harbor.

You had been infected with firepox like Kaz and his brother, but Jordie was the only one who perished out of the three of you. You didn’t know them personally at the time, only in passing. When you and Kaz were both dumped into the harbor with the others who had died, thought to be dead yourselves, you had woken up to same horrors of rotting corpses around you and the feeling of cold, mushy flesh.

While you had been around death and illness before—witnessing your parents die of the disease—Kaz hadn’t seen anything like this until then. He’d had to use his brother’s body as a life raft to swim to shore. You’d grown up swimming in a nearby fishing village, so you swam to shore easily. When you saw Kaz struggling, you’d reached out to him, and he’d hung onto you for dear life.

That night had been traumatizing for him, and for years afterwards, he was unable to touch anyone. It took several more years to get him to touch you, and you’d been patient and worked with Kaz to get used to the feeling of skin on skin again. But it could only be you. Anyone else, and he’d be right back in the water.

You were always there to pull Kaz out of the murky depths, witnessing him at his lowest. You were also there to see him in his triumph of leading his Crows and defeating Pekka Rollins. Finally, he could rest, and Kaz wanted to do it with you.

While planning heists, of course.

Kaz didn’t want you going along, and he’d always try to persuade you to stay behind or at least stay by his side. He always had a soft side for you, so he’d usually meet you halfway. You were in the same boat; your connection to Kaz originated from your soul, and you’d do anything to appease him. But tonight, Kaz wasn’t there, so you took the opportunity to join Inej on the rooftops.

You just didn’t expect anyone to shoot you.

Kaz stormed into your room at the Slat, the door slamming into the wall behind him as he took in your white undershirt lifted just enough to reveal the bloodied gash on the side of your ribs. “What the hell happened?”

You rolled your eyes as Jesper held you down while Nina worked to heal the wound in your side. “It’s a scratch, Kaz. I’m totally fine. The bullet didn’t hit anything serious.”

“Bullet?!” Kaz exclaimed in shock. “I was told you fell off the roof.”

Wylan, from his spot in the corner of the room, hummed in opposition. “That was after she was shot.”

You suddenly let out a groan, squirming in Jesper’s arms. Kaz rushed over as fast as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. “Move, Jes.”

Kaz took Jesper’s spot in keeping you still while Nina finished healing you. “It’s going to leave a scar, but you should be fine by the morning. Good thing the bullet never actually went through you.”

“That will be enough, Nina,” Kaz said lowly, and everyone knew to clear the room as fast as they could.

As soon as the others were gone, you sighed, pulling your undershirt down to cover your bandage. “Say what you’re going to say and get it over with.”

“How the fuck could you be so stupid? Joining Inej on the roof, of all places? Why not be with Nina or Jesper on the ground? We all know how clumsy you are, so it was just a matter of time before you fell off, and oh, look. You did!”

You snorted. “Like Wylan said, that was after I was shot.”

Kaz glared at you as he paced the room, leaning heavily on his cane. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Nothing ever does. You never let me do anything.” A child-like pout formed on your lips, and Kaz wanted to tuck your bottom lip back in place.

He refrained, however. “I have my reasons.”

“Saints, Kaz,” you huffed, sitting up and carefully standing, trying to keep your bandages in place. “If you’re not going to let me go on jobs, why am I even here?”

Kaz met your eyes, the most intense and unique shade of blue you’d ever seen. “When we were young, we promised to stick together. Don’t you remember?”

You swallowed, memories flashing behind your eyes; pinkies interlocking, teary eyes, and yes, the promise that the two of you had made.

“Of course I remember, you idiot,” you replied, holding out your pinkie finger.

Kaz glanced down at it out of the corner of his eye, dead set on refusing, but he could never say no to you. He sighed, linking your bare finger with his gloved one. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he whispered, deep and low in his throat.

You shook your head, lips turning upwards. “You will never lose me, Kaz. I’m yours forever.”

Something crossed his eyes for a brief moment, something you’d never seen before.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Do you mean that? That you’re mine?”

You furrowed your brow, searching his face, but he turned away. “Kaz? What is it? Why are you asking me this?”

He sighed your name, closing his eyes. “I—I think I…The way that I feel about you…I think it’s…I think…”

Kaz trailed off, his chest rising with every breath, unable to finish his sentence, and he turned away. But his shield dropped, and you were able to see every emotion he was feeling.

Now you recognized what you were seeing. You’d just never seen it in Kaz before. It all made sense. The way he never wanted you in harm’s way, how he would always turn to you for advice, secrets that only you knew, the smiles that appeared only when you were around. Kaz cared for you. He…

He loved you.

Your heart soared because you loved him too. You have for a while now, but you’d never been able to act on it. Yes, Kaz was able to touch you, but in this capacity, you weren’t sure.

Taking the small step to close the distance between you was terrifying, but you were meant for terrifying things.

“Yes, Kaz,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

You looked down at his lips, the palest of pinks. Your breaths intermingled, you were so close. “Are you… Can I…?”

You hated that you couldn’t get the questions out. It was Kaz, but you still felt like you should know him well enough not to ask. But since it was Kaz, you had to. You didn’t want to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

“I’ve never… I don’t know how,” he admitted, turning away from you, cheeks turning the color of his lips.

“It’s okay,” you said, slowly lifting a hand. At your inquiring gaze, Kaz nodded. Your hand was warm against his cool skin. “I’ll follow your move.”

Kaz inched closer, noses brushing. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, eyelids fluttering. “Yes. Are you okay?”

He let out a breath, sending gooseflesh over your skin. “Yes,” he answered, and then his lips touched yours.

It was like no kiss you’ve ever had before. The others you’d kissed had been rushed, a frenzy of lips and tongues and teeth. But Kaz’s kiss, it was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to stop time itself and stay in this moment with you.

All in all, you were seeing a different side of Kaz. He usually had a hard exterior, the ruthless Bastard of the Barrel persona he had created. When he was alone with you, he was more relaxed and open, but still haunted by the ghosts of his past. You’d never gotten to know the boy he was before, only the one you had helped out of the harbor.

Was this who you were seeing? Not Kaz Brekker, but Kaz Rietveld? A boy who was curious and sweet-natured, tender and benevolent?

Then his tongue stroked your bottom lip, and you jumped in surprise.

“Was that wrong?” Kaz asked, panic lighting up his eyes.

“No,” you said, shocked. “It was right.”

Kaz grinned at you, a true smile this time, not the little thing he did as the notorious gang leader, and his gloved hands gingerly touching your waist, careful of your injury. “Can we do it again?”

You returned the smile. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, much more confident and sure than before. When his hands moved across your waist, brushing your bandaged side, you gasped.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your lips between kisses.

You hummed, chills running down your spine when his hands gripped your hips. “It’s okay.”

“I’d like to try something else, if that’s okay?”

You pulled back a hair’s breadth to look into his eyes, his pupils blown wide, and you knew how much your kisses were affecting him. “Are you sure? This isn’t moving too fast for you?”

“I’ve wasted enough time, and I don’t want to wait any longer. I just…” He lowered his head, stray bits of his hair brushing against your bare shoulder. “I’ve never done this before.”

You brushed away the hair that had fallen forward, lifting his head to you. Your fingers tangled themselves in his dark locks, silky and fine to the touch. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Kaz leaned forward and kissed your forehead, a simple, gratuitous kiss, and then he brushed his lips across your temple, your cheekbones, your jaw, and then the crook of your neck. He was experimenting, finding each touch a new and thrilling way to explore you. “Is this okay?” He mumbled against your shoulder.

You had your head tilted back, eyes closed. Every single one of Kaz’s kisses tingled against your skin, and your breath came out in pants. “Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Kaz continued to press kisses to your shoulders, across your collarbone, against your throat. “Tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Do whatever you want,” you breathed.

“And if I want to take your shirt off?”

You opened your eyes, lids heavy with want. Kaz’s eyes were blazing with a fire you’d only ever seen when he’d defeated Pekka Rollins, but that had been a sinister and triumphant flame, and this was burning only for you out of desire.

“Then take it off.”

Kaz fingered the hem of your shirt, lifting it ever so slowly. He avoided the bandage on your side, and when the garment was over your head, he tossed it to the floor.

“Saints,” Kaz cursed, gazing at your bare skin and breasts. “You’re so beautiful,”

You pulled him towards you, kissing him feverishly. “Touch me, please.”

Kaz ran a hand over belly, up your ribcage, and lightly trailed his fingers over the swell of your breast, causing you to gasp in his mouth. “Is that good?” He asked, his voice low and coarse.

“Yes.”

“What about this?” He inquired as his thumb brushed against your nipple.

“Yes,” you whined, enjoying his experimentation. He wasn’t trying to be seductive, you knew, but Saints, he was doing a very good job. Your lower belly fluttered, and desire pooled between your legs.

“And if I were to…”

A gasp left your lips as his mouth closed around a nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. One of his hands squeezed the breast not occupied by his mouth, and the other settled low on your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass.

Your own hands gripped the collar of Kaz’s shirt, and you pulled him towards your bed. He moved to support you as the two of you lowered to the mattress.

Kaz gazed down at you, bare and flushed for him, glowing in the candlelight. You really were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. If it was between you or mountains of gold, he’d choose you in a heartbeat. Hell, he’d even give the gold to Pekka if it meant keeping you forever.

You trailed your fingers over the expanse of his clothed chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath. Then you undid one button, and then another, and another. You blinked up at him, searching him for hesitation. “Is this okay?”

Kaz nodded, starting to undo some buttons himself, and your fingers met in the middle to slide the fabric over his shoulders together. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you, feeling his bare chest against yours as your lips met again. Legs opening to accommodate his body, you held him to you, and you never wanted to let go.

Hands were everywhere, to your surprise. Never before has Kaz touched you like this, so unreserved and wanting. Before, he would give you a hand to help you up, or a simple pat on the shoulder for a job well done. But this, you didn’t want him to stop.

His hands brushed against the fastenings of your pants, and the hesitation set it. Kaz’s throat bobbed, and before he could say anything, you reached down and undid the buttons yourself, shimmying the material over your hips and kicking it to the floor.

Kaz raked his gaze over you, a faint blush creeping over his skin. He licked his lips, his fingers sliding down your hip, over your thigh. His eyes met yours, and you felt yourself melting under the intensity of his desire. “Can I?” He asked, and you opened your legs in answer.

One finger ran over your seam, and your breath hitched. Then Kaz spread you, the pad of his finger brushing against the tiny bundle of nerves that made you moan. Kaz looked up at you, mischief gleaming in his eyes, and he touched you there again.

Your head thrown back, you gripped your sheets tightly, the anticipation making you squirm. Kaz followed the trail of your wetness to your entrance, and he drew tiny circles around you, and your hips bucked in search for more. This made Kaz curious, so he slowly pushed his finger into you, and you sighed.

You were so warm and wet, Kaz found. And the more he moved his finger, withdrawing it from you before sliding back in, the wetter you became. The sounds you made stirred something within him, setting his heart to pounding.

Then you moaned his name when he hit a certain spot inside of you.

“Kaz.”

He lifted his head to you, and you were watching him, your pupils so dilated, they covered the beautiful color of your irises. Your chest was rising and falling as you stared at him, and then you sat up, causing his finger to leave your warmth.

You reached for him, pulling his face to yours in a kiss. “I need you,” you whispered against his lips, and your hands were creating a trail down his chest and to his belt. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Kaz said, and his hands joined yours in unbuckling his belt. Together, you removed his pants, and Kaz kicked off his shoes.

You slid a hand between you, touching the hard length of him with your fingertips. A groan left him, and his head dropped to rest against your shoulder. You pressed a kiss to his hair as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving up and down. He grew harder with every stroke, and he began to press kisses to your neck and shoulder.

An idea sparked in your mind, and you hooked one leg around his hips, flipping so you were on top. Kaz’s eyes went wide, and he met yours as excitement and expectation set in. You continued to stroke him, and as you moved to hover over him, you asked, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he replied, and he crashed his mouth to yours as you slowly lowered onto him.

Saints, this was better than your hand. You were extraordinary. Mouths moving against one another, bodies joined in a way that was so intimate, nothing would ever take its place. This was heaven, and Kaz would never be the same after this.

You moved, sliding your hips away from his before returning back to him. Every stroke of you around him made Kaz’s insides tighten until it felt like he was going to burst. He ran his hands over every inch of you he could reach, over your arms and shoulders, your waist, and following the movement of your hips.

The moans continued to leave your mouth even as you kissed him, and when you muttered that you were close, he felt you tighten around him, and that was his undoing.

Everything within Kaz shattered, as if something snapped within him. He held you against him, not wanting to let you go. When your breath returned, you slid off of him, the evidence of his release sticking to the insides of your thighs.

“Will you hand me my shirt?” You asked, collapsing beside him.

Kaz leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing the thin undershirt you had been wearing. You cleaned him off first, then yourself before throwing the shirt back to the floor. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Kaz held you close, and you tucked your head underneath his chin. Your legs were intertwined, and so were your fingers, the sweat making your bodies stick together.

This moment was perfection, Kaz thought, and he nuzzled your hair.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your lips turned upwards in a smile as you pressed them lightly to his chest, eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

“I love you, too.

[swanimagines]

DIFFERENT WORLDS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Your parents are hosting a family dinner, and you decide to invite Kaz to come with you.

A note: This is most likely a one of a kind fic from me. I got a fluff Kaz request from someone and tried my best to challenge myself, and this came out. But to be honest, I don't like writing Kaz like this 😅 So for those readers who have been begging me to write fluffy Kaz content where he's slightly OOC, here you go, have a taste, it'll be your first and last.

Kaz’s office was as dim as it always was. The oil lamp flickered on his desk as he wrote something in his paper, his dark eyes going over the document every so often. You couldn’t help but stare at him with a soft smile. Despite everything he had done to get into this position - get to be the most feared and most powerful in all of Ketterdam - you had loved him, through all the good and bad things you had gone through. He had grown so much, worked on his trauma with you and finally when he had a good day, you could rub his scalp to ease his headaches and he was able to hold your hand for a few minutes at a time. You didn’t push it of course, you took baby steps and would see where it goes. Almost all skin touching was initiated by Kaz, and that was working so far.

“You’re staring,” Kaz mumbled suddenly and you flinched awake from your thoughts, blinking for a few times before you grinned, looking at your book in your hands.

“Well, what can I do when I have such a handsome boyfriend?” you said, wrinkling your nose as Kaz lifted his gaze to you, cocking an eyebrow. He then smirked, leaning back on his chair, clearly waiting for you to spit it out. You felt your heart thumping a little faster at that. “Okay. Um, my parents are hosting a family dinner in a few days and um, I was wondering if you could come with me? I would like you to meet them.”

Kaz’s eyebrows shot up for a moment before his smirk slowly faded and he lowered his gaze back to the document in front of him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You had anticipated his reaction, actually. It was already frowned upon, a child of a rich, respected and fair merchant hanging out with a future Dirtyhands since you were ten years old. Falling in love with him. Participating in heists. Behaving like a Barrel rat instead of trying to be a good child and give a good impression of someone who would be an heir of your father's business. But that was never you, who you were, who you wanted to be.

“You could have been so much more, child,” your aunt had told you a few years ago, clicking her tongue upon learning who the boy you had been running around with as a child had become. But the truth was, your parents had always been there for you, and you knew they’d give Kaz a chance. Your father had said that the Barrel kills those who are weak, so it’s only natural Kaz had to become something worse than the Barrel. And your mother saw how happy Kaz made you.

Of course, it may have been just respecting your decisions, they had never once said they’d want to meet the man who makes you so happy. Maybe they were truly scared for you, scared of Kaz. That wouldn’t be a wonder, you knew it, but… it had still been gnawing at you, them actually meeting him.

“Why not?” you asked, cocking your head. Kaz sighed, still writing.

“You know why. Your parents won’t approve of me, you’d just leave there with a bad mood.”

You huffed, standing up and walking over to him, settling on leaning against the desk next to him. “My parents know I’m my own person. They’ve seen how happy you make me.”

Kaz stopped writing and looked up to you, his expression softening slightly. “I don’t want to cause any trouble to you. Your family is important to you, and I’m–”

“My family too,” you finished for him, smiling softly. “Just… please, think about it?”

Kaz looked at you for a moment longer, before he sighed. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

As those words left Kaz’s mouth, you broke into a wide grin, your hand coming up to weave through Kaz’s hair as a silent thank you.

—

Those few days had gone on quickly. Way too quick for Kaz’s liking, judging how nervous he seemed to be. It didn’t show that much, he was extremely skillful to hide it, but you knew him enough to recognise it - for example, the way his index finger tapped against his cane head as you stood at the front yard of your family manor.

“It will go fine,” you chuckled, nodding towards the front door. Kaz didn’t reply, scanning the building before he followed you to the door, and you knocked on the door, smiling at Kaz reassuringly.

Soon, steps were heard from the other side of the door, and the door opened, revealing your father on the other side with a big smile, and you immediately hugged him. After you pulled away from the hug, you gestured to Kaz.

“Dad, this is Kaz. I hope you won’t mind me bringing him with me?”

Your father’s smile faltered momentarily, but then it returned to its normal one. “No, not at all. Nice to finally meet you, Kaz. Please, come in.”

You and Kaz walked along the long hallway with your father leading you, Kaz’s cane clicks echoing through the house. The silence was slightly awkward, but you knew it’d just need some warming up.

You entered the living room, your mother sitting on the sofa with a book in hand. She looked up as you entered and smiled widely at the sight of you, standing up and coming to hug you.

“Hello darling,” she said, pulling away from the hug and for a moment holding your face in between her hands. After a moment, her eyes shifted to Kaz. “Is this gentleman Kaz?”

Kaz nodded and moved his cane in front of him. He was still wary, you noticed, so you laid another smile his way. It was quite funny, really. Kaz seemed like he wasn’t scared of anything, knowing he shouldn’t be scared of anything because most of Ketterdam’s residents feared him. But then he was nervous in the presence of your parents. It wasn’t like he was terrified, but he clearly wasn’t sure if your parents would accept him as part of the family. Being somebody that dangerous definitely would be a scare for a lot of parents.

“Shall we have some tea?” your father interrupted you all staring at each other, and you got to sit at the dinner table next to Kaz, across from your parents.

“So, Kaz,” your father started as your butler started to pour tea to everyone. “You have quite a reputation.”

Kaz nodded after a moment. “I suppose so.”

Your mother shifted slightly. “We’ve heard some… rumours about you. People talk, apparently you’ve done everything in your power to survive in the Barrel. But our child has spoken highly of you, and that means a lot to us.”

That clearly put Kaz at ease slightly more, his shoulders losing their tension slightly as he took a look at you. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The rest of the dinner passed without any major hiccups. Your parents eased out with Kaz, and they even laughed at some of Kaz’s jokes. They asked more about his work, and Kaz replied to them as politely and vaguely as possible - even though he knew they probably guessed what Kaz meant when he said that he had to “interrogate” rivaling gang members sometimes. You chimed it from time to time, telling them how fun evenings you had had with Kaz and the rest of the Crows, how it feels like a little family.

After dinner, you moved back to the living room and your father poured some wine for himself and your mother. You sat in silence once more, before your father cleared his throat.

“I have to say, Kaz, that I was a little apprehensive of meeting you,” he said, swirling his wine glass in his hand. “I knew Barrel forces monsters out of the sweetest children who have to survive alone, and I wasn’t sure if you’d actually have a good effect on my child or if they are just good at pretending everything is fine. But… I now see you truly care for them, and they care for you. That’s what matters to us.” 

Your mother smiled, nudging your father. “I think my husband is trying to welcome you into the family.”

—

A few hours had gone by from that, and now you and Kaz were on your way back to the Slat, with you having a big grin on your face.

“That went even better than I expected,” you said, looking at Kaz. He gave you a half-smile.

“Your parents are… more open-minded than I thought.”

“They just want me to be happy. And I am,” you chuckled. “I knew they’d approve of you after they’d see that I’m truly happy with you, but I did expect a little more hesitation from Dad.”

Kaz’s half-smile widened into a regular, small one, as his hand lightly slid to intertwine with yours, making you glance down and then beam at him. He held your hand for a few moments before letting go, and you knew this was one of those rare moments when he was the happiest you had seen him. You then continued your way to the Slat, and you both knew that your relationship had taken its next step forward, yet another wall had been broken.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[valentinedaughtler]

Haven’t I Given Enough?

Kaz Brekker x GN!Inventor!Reader

TW: use of Y/N, mild, mild angst, slight ooc Kaz(?) (I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything please.)

Synopsis: You’ve known Kaz for years, inventing gadgets to assist in heists and being his right hand ‘man’. One night you ask him if you can join a heist, but it doesn’t go as planned….

REQUESTS: OPEN✅

____________________________________________

My eyes flitted between the arriving guests in the bar. The Crow Club was packed tonight, and pigeons strolled in with restless naivety. I sat in the corner of the bustling room, sighing with exhaustion. I had just spent seventeen hours imitating mechanical watches in order to create a ‘fake’ for Kaz do swap with a real one. ‘Just something I need for a heist,’ was all he had said.

It would be worth it to know Kaz was proud of me in the end. Though, it was a long shot to think he would even do much as acknowledge anything I did.

I pondered whether I should slip through the crowd to find Jesper, but I couldn’t spot him. Instead, I pushed my way out of the suffocating bar out into the damp streets of Ketterdam. The cool air calmed my mind as I crossed toward the Slat. The cold made my cheeks rosy.

With the flick of a wrist, I flipped a switch blended into the old building’s exterior wall. It was hidden to an unsuspecting pedestrian yet, but it set off a system of pullies I had integrated into the inner walls a long time ago. A soft shlink was followed by the outward jutting of brick.

The side of the building became a rock-wall of sorts, since I could not climb up every surface like Inej. I began to grip the bricks, digging my nails into the gritty platforms.

Kaz was not always a fan of my inventions. A few had blown up in his face- literally- but it seemed he kept me around due to my many successes. I could fix any machine made by man. I didn’t have to know what it was, I could just take it apart in my mind, then do so in reality.

This was one of my inventions, a brick wall that was easy to climb, but could be hidden. Inej loved it- Kaz felt it was a waste of time.

He said there were stairs for a reason.

I shimmied the window of Kaz’s office open, the latch flipping and the glass sliding. I hopped off of the ledge and into the office, making sure to reset my brick contraption. I turned around and cleared my throat, but Kaz did not glance up at me. I rolled my eyes as he squinted at the blueprints that lay on his makeshift desk.

“Good evening, Brekker,” I greeted with a jokingly enticing tone. His eye twitched and he proceeded to turn his attention to me.

“Hello, Y/N,” his gravely voiced rasped in response. I smiled slightly, regretting so, and dig into my left pants pocket. I pulled out a shiny, gold watch with engraved initials. Whose they were was unknown to me, but if I asked, Kaz would most likely just shut me down. I had to respect his odd secrecy after all he had done for me. Out of all the years I’d known him, it has always been as if he kept me at an arm’s length. He was careful to never be vulnerable, as if that was the same as his skin touching mine.

I gestured for him to catch the watch when I tossed it, but he glared. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re such a buzzkill,” I teased while handing the fake to him.

“You’re… difficult,” he retorted, but there was no malice behind his words- surprisingly. I huffed and plopped onto the blanket sprawled out on the windowsill. My eyes followed Kaz’s movements as he tentaviety inspected the watch. After a few minutes he placed it onto his desk and resumed his work. I waited patiently for any sign of recognition, but it never came.

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled while stretching out my legs. I opened up my leather sketchbook to doodle a new invention design. That or I’d just draw Kaz. But I was too annoyed with him to do so.

The dark haired boy sighed as he looked over at me. “You did good. It looks identical.”

I didn’t say anything in response, but I smiled slightly, my face heating up. It was embarrassing how easily I was flattered by Kaz, who could barely do the bare minimum.

“What ere you using it for— the watch, I mean,” I asked with growing curiosity. Kaz halted his work for a moment, most likely deciding if he felt like sharing or not.

“A local banker,-“

“The more-of-a-wanker-than-a-banker one?” I cut off his response, immediately feeling embarrassed. Kaz looked at me with mild confusion. “Inside joke with Jesper,” I elaborated.

He hummed in response, then continued, “He’s more of a swanker. For the past few months he has been flaunting his wealth a little too much. Especially his watch. It’s his most prized possession. I plan to take it from his vault; a simple swap.”

“What would you do without me?” I asked with a sly smirk. Kaz huffed, perhaps laughed.

“I’d have less of your inventions explode on me.”

“It was one time, Kaz,” I said with exasperation. My eye glittered as I met his gaze. I open my mouth to speak, but immediately close it again, pressing my lips together firmly.

“Kaz?”

“Y/N,”

“I want to go on a mission with you and the crows,” I blurted out. Kaz froze, only for a fraction of a moment, but Kaz Brekker froze. He nodded towards my left arm, where a tattoo of a crow craning over a guatlet was etched into my skin.

“You are a crow,” he finally rasped, dodging my question until I glared daggers into his skin. “And I have everyone we need for the mission-“

“Wylan is sick. You need someone who can easily disable complex machinery- the alarms, the traps-“

“I said no,” Kaz’s voice raised, sounding threatening.

“Why not?”

“Y/N,” his voice sounded as if he meant, don’t push it. But I did. I always did, and Kaz always kept me by his side anyways.

“I don’t understand- ever since I got hurt on that one heist you haven’t let me participate-“

“Exactly! You got hurt,” he said. His jaw clenched and his eyes avoided mine. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped.

“Dregs get hurt all the time- saints, some of the crows do too-“

“This is different,”

“How?”

“You’re an investment,” he stated blankly, “and I protect my investments.” I felt heat flush my face, my fists balling up and my shoulders tensing.

“That’s rich, Kaz, real rich,” I spat. Embarrassment pooled in my stomach and my eyes. “But that’s all you want, right? Kruge? Money? Power?” He didn’t say anything as I slitted my eyes and scrunched my nose. “Saints forbid the people who help you get to that point.”

Before Kaz could respond, if he even chose to, I got up and walked across his office, my shoes clacking against the hard, wooden floors. The old floorboards moaned and groaned at the pressure I subjected them to.

“Y/N-,” Kaz tried to get up, but his bad leg involuntarily spasmed at his abrupt movement.

The door slammed behind me. I knew it wasn’t a big deal, it felt like the last thing to topple a delicate card tower. Each card was a jab or a deny Kaz made regarding our… relationship, if you could call it that. He and I had been friends long before the other crows came along, yet I felt I’d come to know him the least. I sighed.

I turned back around on my heel, opening the splintered office door. On the other side was Kaz, reaching for the handling on the opposing side.

“You’re not an investment,”

I kept any snarky comments bottled up inside, along with my tears. I could tell what he was convey was eating away at him, so I let him speak.

“If I lost you, I’d have to burn Ketterdam down, and then I’d have no kingdom to rule,” his words soared through the air between us and to my heart.

“I just keep feeling like I’ve given enough, Kaz. I know I deserve to go on heists. If you see my as an equal, you have to treat me like one.” I met his deep, coffee-brown eyes.

He nodded. One of his gloved hands hesitantly, begrudgingly, came up to touch my face. He cupped my cheek and I leaned into the cold, leather touch. I knew this was the best answer he could give me at the moment. It was a more meaningful gesture than anything he could’ve said. He’d let me help on the heist, and for once in a very long time, it felt like he had let his high walls crumble a bit.

I knew I’d given enough.

____________________________________________

Word Count: 1460

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Part 2????

-Valentine

[srslyscary]

crown heist

contents/warnings: SFW, slightly ooc, lowercase intended

including: wooyoung x reader

w.c: 2.2k

note: royal au! EAT EAT EAT . anyways I have nothing else to say. enjoy!

_

the kingdom of adalin was known far and wide for its grand castles, vast forests, and most of all, its indomitable queen. queen YN was the epitome of grace, her image perfectly curated by the royal advisors to maintain the idealistic vision of a monarch who was as innocent as she was powerful. the people adored her, believing her to be a delicate flower who ruled with a gentle hand. but wooyoung knew better.

every thief worth his salt had heard of the crown kept in the queen's chambers—an heirloom that had been passed down from generation to generation, which holds the power to command the loyalty of the entire kingdom. for a thief like wooyoung, stealing it wasn’t just a job—it was the ultimate prize.

the plan had been set in motion weeks ago. wooyoung had spent countless hours mapping out the castle, learning the guards' routines, and finding the best points of entry. he’d bribed, blackmailed, and even charmed his way into the castle more than once to learn the layout. by the time he was ready, he could navigate the corridors blindfolded.

the night was thick with silence, the moon hanging high in the sky, casting a dim silver glow over the kingdom. wooyoung moved like a shadow, slipping past the guards with practiced ease. the dark, winding hallways of the castle were like a second home to him now. he avoided the pressure plates, sidestepped the creaky floorboards, and held his breath as he slithered past the patrolling guards.

finally, he reached the queen's chambers. the door loomed before him, a thick, imposing barrier that would intimidate any ordinary thief. but wooyoung was no ordinary thief. with a smirk, he carefully picked the lock, the satisfying click of the tumblers falling into place filling him with confidence. he slowly pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it behind him with barely a whisper of sound.

the room was dark, save for the pale moonlight streaming in through the grand window. wooyoung’s eyes scanned the room, finding the bed draped in rich, heavy curtains. the silhouette of the queen was visible through the fabric, her form still and quiet, as though she were sound asleep.

he crept forward, his gaze locking onto the crown resting on a pedestal near the bed. it was even more magnificent up close, the gems embedded in it catching the faint light and sparkling like a thousand stars. this was it. the prize he'd been dreaming of.

just as his fingers brushed the cool metal of the crown, he heard it—a sharp click, unmistakable in the silence of the room. he froze, his heart pounding in his chest as a voice, harsh and commanding, cut through the darkness.

"move another inch, and i’ll shoot you dead."

wooyoung’s blood ran cold. he turned his head slightly, his eyes widening as he realized the queen was not in bed. instead, she stood in the dark corner of the room, her figure partially obscured by shadows. she stepped forward, the faint light illuminating her face as she trained an 8-inch double-barrel shotgun on his head. her black gown clung to her form, a stark contrast to the image the people of adalin had of their queen. this wasn’t the delicate, demure ruler everyone believed her to be.

"you," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "what the hell are you doing in my room at this ungodly hour?"

wooyoung chuckled, his hands slowly raising in surrender. “i’m here for the crown."

her lips curled into a smirk, though her eyes remained cold. "and what makes you think you can just walk in here and take it?"

he hesitated, trying to gauge his options. wooyoung was known for his silver tongue, but something about the way she held the shotgun—steady, without a hint of fear—told him this was not a woman to trifle with. "I thought you were asleep. the crown is a... valuable piece. It's—"

she cut him off with a scoff, pressing the barrels of the gun harder against his head. "you have no idea what that crown represents."

wooyoung risked a glance at her, surprised by the venom in her voice. the queen's public persona was so different from the woman standing before him now—this was someone hardened by life, someone who had seen and done more than the people could ever imagine. he had to admit, he was intrigued. "you’re... different from what the people say."

she arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. "oh? and what do they say?"

"that you're sweet, innocent, wouldn’t hurt a soul. they say you don’t have the courage to do much of anything."

the queen chuckled darkly, lowering the gun just enough for him to breathe more easily. "reality is always closed off from the naked eye. the people see what they want to see, what I allow them to see. but you, thief, you’ve seen something they never will."

wooyoung dared to smile, his natural charm bubbling to the surface despite the danger. "well, your majesty, I must say, i’m quite honored. not everyone gets to see this side of you."

she rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "flattery will get you nowhere, thief."

"wooyoung," he corrected her, his tone smooth. "the name’s wooyoung."

"and I’m not interested in a thief who has no dignity," she shot back, her gaze never wavering from his.

his smile faltered slightly. "ouch. That's a bit harsh, don’t you think?"

"not nearly as harsh as what I could do to you right now," she replied, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. she stepped closer, the barrels of the gun now resting against his forehead, cold and unforgiving. "this crown," she continued, her tone growing more heated, "is not just a piece of jewelry. it’s the last treasure my father owned. when I inherited this kingdom and its riches, I lost the one person who meant the most to me. this crown is all I have left of him, and I’ll be damned if I let a petty thief take that connection away from me."

wooyoung’s breath hitched as she pressed the gun harder against his skin. he could see the raw emotion in her eyes, the way her hand trembled ever so slightly. she was close to losing control, her anger and grief warring within her.

for a moment, he thought she might pull the trigger. but then, she hesitated, her expression shifting from anger to something else. something more vulnerable.

she lowered the gun, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had finally crushed her spirit. wooyoung watched in silence as she pressed the barrels of the shotgun to her own forehead, closing her eyes with a weary sigh.

"why am I even bothering?" she muttered, more to herself than to him. "i’m too tired for this."

wooyoung stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say. this was not how he’d imagined the night going. the queen, once so fierce and commanding, now looked drained—mentally, physically, and emotionally.

she turned away from him, moving back to the dark corner where she had been sitting. with a flick of her wrist, she turned on a small lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow over her face. she sank into a plush chair, her grip on the shotgun loosening as she stared at the floor.

"i don’t know why I’m telling you all this," she said after a long silence. her voice was quiet now, almost defeated. "you’re just a thief, someone who doesn’t care about anything but his own gain."

wooyoung, sensing an opportunity, slowly lowered his hands, taking a cautious step closer. "maybe. but... maybe I do care."

she looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "why would you? you don’t even know me."

"true," he admitted, "but I can see you’re going through something. and... i’ve been through my share of hardships too."

the queen scoffed, though there was less venom in it this time. "what could someone like you possibly know about hardship?"

wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "more than you’d think. but that’s not important right now. what matters is that... you don’t have to go through this alone."

she laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "alone? that’s all I’ve ever been. even surrounded by people, i’ve always been alone."

wooyoung’s heart twisted at the pain in her voice. despite his initial intentions, he found himself wanting to help her, to ease some of the burden she carried. "you’re not alone right now," he said softly, taking another step closer.

the queen’s gaze met his, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit. when she found none, she looked away, her expression softening. "i didn’t tell you to come closer. and why haven’t you run off with the crown like you planned?"

"because—“ he chuckled, choosing his words carefully. "because maybe I’ve found something more valuable than the crown."

she arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "and what would that be?"

"you," he said simply, his voice sincere.

the queen stared at him, her expression unreadable. for a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence heavy with unspoken emotions. then, she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "you’re a strange one, wooyoung. i don’t know whether to believe you or shoot you."

he smiled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "how about neither? maybe we can just... talk."

she considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "alright. talk."

wooyoung took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to steer the conversation away from his own demise. "you uh— mentioned your father earlier. he must have meant a lot to you."

the queen’s expression grew pained, but she didn’t shy away from the topic. "he was everything to me. my father was the only person who truly understood me, who saw me for who I really am. when he died... it felt like I lost a part of myself."

wooyoung listened intently, his usual cocky demeanor subdued as he absorbed her words. "sorry. I know what it’s like to lose someone important."

she looked at him, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "who did you lose?"

he hesitated, then decided to be honest. "my brothers. they were the only family I had left. after they died, I... well, I lost my way. that’s how I ended up as a thief."

the queen studied him, her gaze softening as she saw the pain in his eyes. "i’m sorry for your loss, wooyoung."

"thank you," he replied, surprised by her genuine empathy. "it’s been a long time, but... it still hurts."

she nodded, understanding all too well. "grief is like that. It never truly goes away."

they fell into a comfortable silence, the tension between them dissolving as they shared their stories of loss. for the first time, wooyoung saw the queen not as a target, but as a person—someone who had been through just as much pain as he had, if not more.

"why do you put up with it?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "the facade, I mean. why pretend to be someone you’re not?"

the queen sighed, leaning her head back against the chair. "because it’s what’s expected of me. the people want a queen who’s sweet, innocent, and kind. they don’t want someone who’s hardened by life, who’s been forced to make difficult decisions. if they knew the truth... they’d lose faith in the crown."

"but isn’t that exhausting?" wooyoung pressed, genuinely curious. "pretending to be someone you’re not, day in and day out?"

"of course it is," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "but what choice do I have? the crown is more than just a piece of metal. It’s a symbol of my father’s legacy, of everything he stood for. I can’t let that be tarnished by my own failings."

"but you’re not failing," wooyoung insisted, stepping closer to her. "you’re just human. no one can be perfect all the time."

she looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "maybe not. but I have to try. for my father’s sake."

wooyoung reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand. "your father wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of a crown. he’d want you to be true to yourself."

the queen stared at their joined hands, her expression conflicted. "I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve been pretending for so long that I’ve lost sight of the person I used to be."

"then maybe it’s time to find her again," wooyoung suggested softly. "and you don’t have to do it alone."

she looked up at him, her facial expression unclear. "why are you doing this? why are you being so kind to me?"

"because I see you," he said simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "the real you. and I think... I think you deserve to be happy."

the queen blinked, rather confused on what emotions she was feeling. for so long, she had been alone, carrying the weight of the crown and the expectations of the kingdom on her shoulders. but here, in the quiet of her chambers, with a thief who should have been her enemy, she found a flicker of hope.

a single tear slipped down her cheek, and wooyoung gently wiped it away with his thumb. "you don’t have to cry," he murmured, his voice soothing. "i’m here."

she closed her eyes, her heart aching with a mix of relief and longing. "I don’t know what to do," she confessed. "i’m so tired, wooyoung. tired of pretending, tired of being strong all the time."

"then stop," he urged her, his tone gentle but firm. "stop pretending, stop being strong. just be yourself, even if it’s just for tonight."

she opened her eyes, looking up at him with a vulnerability that she hadn’t shown anyone in years. "and what if I don’t like who I am underneath it all?"

"then we’ll figure it out together," wooyoung promised, his heart clenching at the sight of her pain. "you don’t have to face it alone anymore."

then queen let out a shaky breath, her defenses crumbling as she allowed herself to be vulnerable with him. "I don’t even know where to start."

"start with the truth," he said softly. "tell me who you really are, not the queen, but the woman underneath."

she hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "my name is YN."

wooyoung smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "it’s nice to meet you, YN."

she managed a small smile in return, feeling a sense of warmth that she hadn’t felt in years. "it’s nice to meet you too, wooyoung."

[slut4evanpeters]

At Least We got Eachother

warren lipka x reader

warnings: nothing really, robbery, slight angst, mention of alcohol

word count: 8.3k

notes: guys im so sorry i finnished it so suddenly😭 i got called into work:( lmk if you want a part two on the aftermath! and and im sorry for ooc waren and how i didnt make the heist exactly like how it is in the movie!

The night air felt thick and heavy, pressing down on your shoulders as you stood in front of the bar’s worn wooden door. You could hear the muffled bass of music inside, the occasional bursts of laughter filtering through. This was the kind of place that could easily be overlooked in the daylight—faded signage, chipped paint, windows clouded from years of cigarette smoke. But by night, it came alive with people looking to escape.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for tonight. Something. Someone. Anything to fill the nagging void in your chest that had been growing for weeks. You hadn’t meant to come here alone. It just happened. Your friends bailed, of course, but something had drawn you here anyway, pulled you in like gravity. Or fate. You weren’t sure.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the warmth of the bar, the smell of stale beer and cheap whiskey greeting you like an old friend. The crowd was a mix of locals and university kids blowing off steam after a week of classes. Some danced, others sat in groups, but your eyes were drawn immediately to the guy at the far end of the room.

Warren Lipka.

You’d heard about him. Who hadn’t? He was one of those people everyone talked about but no one really knew. Wild rumors circulated like wildfire stories about his outbursts, his reckless bravado, his larger than life personality that seemed to suck everyone into his orbit. You had never gotten close enough to confirm them for yourself.

Tonight was different.

He stood near the pool table, watching the game with a beer dangling loosely from his fingers. Even across the crowded room, you could feel his presence, a tension in the air, the kind that made you hyper-aware of every breath, every pulse in your body.

You knew you should look away, maybe grab a drink and sit at the bar, but you didn’t. Something about him held your gaze. It wasn’t just his looks, though you couldn’t ignore those. The dark eyes that seemed to flicker with mischief, the sharp jawline that could have been carved from stone, the disheveled burnette hair that made him look like he had just rolled out of bed and somehow managed to make it look intentional. No, it was more than that.

It was the sense of danger.

There was something magnetic about him, like a storm building on the horizon. You could feel it in your gut. This was someone who could wreck your life, tear everything apart, and leave you wanting more. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t look away.

Suddenly, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes met yours. His lips quirked up into a slow, dangerous smirk. The kind that made your skin prickle with heat.

Shit.

You looked away, quickly grabbing the nearest drink from the bar. The momentary connection with him had sent your heart racing, a surge of adrenaline kicking in like a warning. This was a bad idea. Warren Lipka was bad news. You had heard the rumours. He was trouble. And yet, part of you felt drawn to it, to him.

A few minutes later, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. He was walking toward you, slow and deliberate. You took a sip of your drink, pretending not to notice, but the heat of his gaze was impossible to ignore. By the time he reached you, your pulse was thudding in your ears.

“Not from around here, are you?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel under tires.

You glanced up at him, struggling to keep your voice steady. “And you can tell that just by looking?”

Warren chuckled, the sound dark and amused. “Maybe. Or maybe I just notice things most people don’t.”

He leaned against the bar next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, but not so close that it felt invasive. It was intentional, like everything else about him. You could tell he was the type who thrived on control, on pushing buttons to see how people reacted.

“So, what brings you here?” he asked, taking a long pull from his beer. “You don’t seem like the type who comes here often.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to give him anything personal. But there was something in the way he looked at you, something that made you want to play along, if only for a little while.

“Maybe I like trying new things,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m just looking for a good time.”

His eyes flashed with something dark and intense, and for a brief moment, you could see right through the façade. The charm, the cockiness, the swagger. Beneath it all, there was something raw, almost desperate. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with that smirk again.

“A good time, huh?” He set his beer down on the bar, his gaze never leaving yours. “I think I can help with that.”

You felt a thrill run through you, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise. This was dangerous. You knew it. But maybe danger was exactly what you were looking for tonight.

Without another word, Warren turned, nodding for you to follow. Against your better judgment, you found yourself moving after him, weaving through the crowd as he led you toward the back of the bar, where the noise faded into the background and the dim lighting cast long shadows on the worn wooden floor.

He stopped in a quiet corner, leaning against the wall, his eyes still locked on yours. “So,” he said, his voice low, “what do you really want?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question pressing down on you. You didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what to say. Because the truth was, you didn’t really know. You just wanted something different. Something real.

“I’m not sure.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just watched you with that intense gaze. Then, he pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his hand brushing yours as he leaned in.

“You will be.” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

And in that moment, you knew this was a path you couldn’t turn back from. Whatever happened next, you were in it now.

The energy between you and Warren shifted the moment he leaned in, the air between you electric. Every part of you screamed to walk away, to put some distance between yourself and this guy who was clearly trouble, but your body wouldn’t listen. You found yourself stepping closer, drawn in by that storm in his eyes, the darkness behind his smirk.

“I’m not someone you should be messing around with.” he said quietly, almost like a warning. His hand was still just barely brushing against yours, but it was enough to set your nerves alight.

“I think I’ll take my chances.” you replied, surprising yourself with the boldness in your voice.

Warren’s eyes sparked with amusement. “I like that.”

Before you could respond, a voice from across the room called out his name. You both turned to see two guys standing by the pool table, one of them raising a beer in your direction. You recognized one of them. Spencer Reinhard. He was quiet, kept to himself in class, not the kind of guy who usually hung out with someone like Warren. But there he was, eyes flickering between the two of you with a knowing look.

Warren sighed, like he was already bored of the interruption. “Guess I’ll have to catch up with you later.”

The words hung in the air between you, carrying a promise that made your pulse quicken.

You barely had time to react before he was gone, weaving his way back to the pool table like nothing had happened. The cool air of the bar rushed back in to replace the heat of his presence, and you stood there, trying to steady yourself, your heart still racing.

The next few days were a blur. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Warren Lipka. His name alone seemed to carry a weight now, a gravitational pull that kept tugging at the edges of your mind. You told yourself it was ridiculous, that one brief interaction with a guy like him shouldn’t affect you like this. But it did.

A week later, you were sitting in the campus library, a pile of books spread out before you, trying to focus on the paper you were supposed to be writing. It wasn’t working. Your eyes kept drifting toward the window, where the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the quiet streets outside. You wondered if you’d see him again.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Miss me yet?

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the screen for a moment, unsure whether to respond. Before you could overthink it, your fingers typed back.

Depends. Who’s asking?

Seconds later, another text came through.

Look outside.

Your head snapped up. Sure enough, there he was, leaning against a black SUV parked across the street, his phone in his hand and that damn smirk on his face.

You grabbed your stuff, hastily shoving your notebook into your bag as you made your way toward the door. Your heart raced with each step, your pulse thundering in your ears. What were you doing? You barely knew this guy, and yet here you were, leaving your work behind for him.

Warren watched you cross the street, eyes dark and full of mischief. When you reached him, he raised an eyebrow. “Took you long enough.”

“I had to make sure you weren’t some random creep.” you shot back, though the teasing edge in your voice didn’t hide the fact that your nerves were on high alert.

“I’m not random.” he replied smoothly. “But I am a creep. Is that gonna be a problem?”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “Guess I’ll find out.”

He pushed off the car and gestured for you to follow. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

You didn’t ask what. You didn’t want to know—not yet. You weren’t sure if you were ready for answers. You just wanted to feel that rush again, the one that came when you were near him.

The SUV sped down the backroads on the outskirts of town, the windows down and the wind whipping through your hair. The sun was setting, casting everything in a golden glow that made the whole world feel surreal, like you were in some kind of dream. You glanced at Warren, who had one hand on the wheel and the other draped lazily over his lap. He looked like he was in his element, the kind of guy who thrived in moments like this—where the rules didn’t apply and nothing was certain.

“So.” you said, breaking the silence. “Where are we going?”

Warren’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, but he didn’t look over. “Someplace quiet.”

That answer wasn’t exactly reassuring, but the adrenaline coursing through you made it hard to care.

You watched the trees blur by, the road stretching out ahead of you, and realized you had no idea where you were anymore. The town had long since disappeared behind you, swallowed by the sprawling hills and endless fields that surrounded the city. Your stomach flipped as you considered the reality of it—you were alone, in the middle of nowhere, with a guy you barely knew.

But it didn’t feel dangerous. At least, not in the way it should have.

Finally, Warren pulled the car off the road, onto a dirt path that wound its way into a clearing. He parked, killed the engine, and got out. You followed him without question, though your curiosity was growing by the second.

He led you toward a small, rundown building nestled in the trees. It looked abandoned, like it hadn’t seen life in years.

“What is this place?” you asked, glancing around.

“Used to be an old hideout for hunters,” Warren explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Now it’s just… quiet.”

You stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the broken windows. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of earth and wood hung in the air. It was eerie, but there was something strangely peaceful about it, too.

Warren watched you closely, his expression unreadable. “Sometimes I come here to think. To get away from everything.”

You turned to him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “And what are you trying to get away from?”

His eyes flickered, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush your hair behind your ear. The touch was soft, almost tender, but there was an edge to it—a tension that made your heart race.

“I don’t think you want to know.” he murmured.

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he closed the distance between you, his body heat radiating against yours. There was a dangerous intensity in his gaze, something wild and uncontained, and you could feel yourself being pulled into it, like a moth to a flame.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips.

Warren’s eyes darkened, his hand sliding down your neck, fingers curling against your skin. “You don’t.”

Before you could say anything else, his lips crashed against yours, and all the pent-up tension between you exploded in a surge of heat. His kiss was fierce, almost desperate, like he was trying to lose himself in you, to escape whatever demons were clawing at him from the inside.

You responded without thinking, your hands gripping his shirt as he backed you up against the wall, the rough wood pressing into your spine. His body pressed against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. It was just him and you, lost in the chaos of each other.

The days blurred together after that night in the abandoned hideout. You couldn’t stop thinking about Warren. The way he made you feel so alive, the way his touch ignited something wild in you. But it wasn’t just the physical connection that kept you up at night. There was something deeper, something raw and untamed in him that you hadn’t seen in anyone else before. And, despite the warning bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t stay away.

Warren didn’t text you for a few days after that. You figured that was just how he was. Coming and going like the wind, never staying in one place long enough to be tied down. But the pull he had over you was undeniable. It wasn’t just attraction; it was something darker, something that made you crave the chaos he brought with him.

Then, one evening, you got the text.

Meet me at Spencer’s. Tonight. 9 p.m. We’re planning something big.

No details. No context. Just enough to make your stomach flip with a mixture of excitement and dread. You knew something was coming, something that would change everything. And you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Warren meant by big.

By the time you reached Spencer Reinhard’s house that night, the air was thick with tension. The quiet suburban street was lit only by a few street lamps, casting long shadows across the driveway. Warren’s SUV was parked out front, along with a beat-up old sedan you didn’t recognize.

As you approached the front door, your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t know what to expect, but you could feel that things were about to take a turn, a dangerous one.

When you stepped inside, the atmosphere was different. The laid-back, college kid vibe that usually surrounded Warren and his friends was gone. In its place was something heavier, more intense.

Spencer was sitting at the dining table, staring down at a blueprint of some kind, his face pale but determined. Two other guys, Eric Borsuk and Chas Allen, you guessed, were sitting across from him, deep in conversation. Warren leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold like a hawk.

The moment his eyes landed on you, that familiar smirk appeared. But this time, there was something more behind it. A challenge. A question.

“You made it.” he said, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. His voice was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah.” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “What’s this all about?”

He glanced back at the guys before leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “We’re planning a heist.”

The words hit you like a freight train. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “A… what?”

Warren pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “A heist. The Transylvania University Library. They’ve got some rare books, millions of dollars worth. And we’re gonna take them.”

Your heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement surging through you. This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. But as Warren held your gaze, you could see that he wasn’t joking. He was serious. Dead serious.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Warren’s expression darkened. “Why not? People like us don’t get chances like this. We either go big or we’re stuck in this shithole forever.”

You felt the weight of his words, the raw desperation behind them. This wasn’t just about money or some thrill-seeking stunt. This was about proving something—to himself, to the world. He was chasing something bigger, something that went beyond the surface. And you could feel yourself being pulled into it, into him.

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing both of your attention back to the table. “We’re finalizing the plan. If you’re in, you need to know what’s at stake.”

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation settling over you like a heavy blanket. This wasn’t a game anymore. This was real.

Warren led you over to the table, where Spencer laid out the blueprints. They showed the layout of the library, detailed with guard schedules, security camera locations, and escape routes. The guys had been planning this for weeks, maybe months, and you could see how meticulously every detail had been considered.

“The librarian is our biggest obstacle,” Spencer explained, his voice calm and measured. “We have to neutralize her without anyone getting hurt.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of it. This wasn’t some harmless prank. People could get hurt. Lives could be ruined. And yet, the adrenaline coursing through your veins made it hard to walk away.

“Are you in?” Warren asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. He was watching you closely, his eyes dark and intense, waiting for your answer.

You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. Every rational part of you screamed to say no, to walk away from this madness before it was too late. But then you looked at Warren—really looked at him. Beneath the bravado, beneath the smirk, there was something raw, something vulnerable. He wasn’t just pulling you into this heist. He was pulling you into him, into his world.

And you couldn’t walk away.

“I’m in.” you said, the words slipping out before you could second guess yourself.

Warren’s smirk widened, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and triumphant. “Good.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. You found yourself deeper and deeper in Warren’s world, surrounded by the intensity of the heist. The guys worked relentlessly, mapping out every possible scenario, every potential flaw. The more you saw of their plan, the more you realized just how serious they were. This wasn’t some fantasy. This was happening.

And through it all, the tension between you and Warren continued to build, like a storm gathering on the horizon. Every glance, every touch felt loaded with meaning. It was like you were teetering on the edge of something, and neither of you knew where it would lead.

One night, as you sat in Warren’s SUV after a long day of planning, the tension finally snapped.

The two of you had spent the day running through details, scouting the library from a distance, and discussing escape routes. Now, parked in a dark, empty lot, the reality of what you were doing loomed over you both.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna make it out of this.” Warren said, his voice quieter than usual. His hands rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping restlessly.

You turned to look at him, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard. Warren was always so sure of himself, so in control. Seeing this side of him, this uncertainty, made your chest tighten.

“We will.” you said, reaching over to place your hand on his arm. “We’ve got this.”

Warren looked over at you, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you felt thick, heavy with unspoken words, unexpressed emotions.

And then, without warning, Warren leaned across the center console and kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the hideout. This was slower, softer, but no less intense. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the weight of everything else disappeared. It was just you and him, tangled together in the dark.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “I don’t want to lose you.” he whispered, the words so quiet you almost missed them.

“You won’t,” you whispered back, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

But even as you said it, you knew that nothing was certain. Not with this. Not with him.

The night before the heist, the tension was unbearable. The plan was finalized, everyone knew their role, but the weight of what was about to happen hung heavy in the air. The others had gone home to get what little sleep they could, but you found yourself staying behind, lingering in the empty house where you’d all been planning for weeks. Warren hadn’t left either. You weren’t surprised.

He was sitting on the floor in the corner of the living room, back against the wall, eyes closed, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his hand. His mask lay beside him, half-forgotten in the dim light of the single lamp that illuminated the room. You watched him for a moment, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t just the heist that had your nerves on edge. It was him. It was always him.

Without saying a word, you crossed the room and sat down next to him, your knees brushing his. Warren opened his eyes and glanced at you, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You should be home.” he said, his voice low, rough with exhaustion. “Resting up for tomorrow.”

“So should you.” you countered, leaning your head back against the wall. “But here we are.”

Warren chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze drifted toward the ceiling, his expression unreadable. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Knowing everything’s gonna change after tomorrow.”

The way he said it made your stomach twist. You could hear the weight in his voice, the uncertainty. He was always so sure of himself, so unflinching in the face of danger. But now, with the reality of the heist staring him in the face, he seemed… human. Vulnerable.

“Are you scared?” you asked quietly.

Warren didn’t answer right away. He took a sip of his beer, his jaw clenched as if he were trying to hold something back. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know. I guess I’m scared of losing it all.”

You turned to look at him, the words catching you off guard. You’d never seen him like this before, so raw, so open. It was a side of him he didn’t let anyone see, and the fact that he was showing it to you made your heart ache.

“Warren…” you started, but he cut you off.

“I don’t do things halfway,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “This heist, it’s all or nothing. We either win big, or we crash and burn. And I can handle that. But…”

He trailed off, his eyes flicking to you for just a moment before looking away again. The unspoken words hung between you, heavy and full of meaning. You understood what he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t just the heist he was afraid of losing. It was you.

Without thinking, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers lacing through his. Warren tensed for a second, but then he relaxed, his grip tightening around yours. The warmth of his hand against yours sent a spark of electricity through you, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the heist, the danger, the uncertainty. It was just the two of you, sitting together in the dim light, holding on to each other like you were the only thing keeping each other grounded.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Warren finally looked at you, his eyes dark and intense. There was something in them, something vulnerable and fierce all at once, and it made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he reached up and cupped your face with his free hand, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. The touch was so tender, so unlike the Warren you knew, that it made your breath catch in your throat.

And then, slowly, he leaned in.

This kiss wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t fierce or rushed or driven by adrenaline. It was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. His lips were soft against yours, his hand warm against your cheek, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. There was no heist, no danger, no uncertainty, just him, and you, and the fire that burned between you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily, your hearts pounding in unison. Warren’s hand slid down from your cheek to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice raw, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“You won’t,” you whispered back, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you could somehow hold him closer.

Warren let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours. “After tomorrow… everything changes.”

“Maybe,” you said softly, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his. “But not this.”

He kissed you back, more urgently this time, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. You could feel the intensity of his emotions in every touch, every kiss—like he was trying to memorize the feel of you, to hold on to this moment before everything came crashing down. And you kissed him back just as fiercely, your heart pounding in your chest, knowing that this might be the last time you had before the storm hit.

The morning of the heist came quickly, too quickly. As the sun rose over the quiet town, a cold knot of fear settled in your stomach. You’d spent most of the night with Warren, your bodies tangled together in a mix of passion and desperation, as if you were both trying to cling to each other before the inevitable chaos. Now, as you stood in front of the mirror, pulling on the dark clothes that had been carefully selected for this moment, the reality of what you were about to do hit you like a freight train.

This wasn’t a game anymore. This wasn’t some fantasy. It was real, and it was happening now.

You met the others outside the library as planned, the early morning air cold and still. Warren was already there, his mask pulled up over his face, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He was calm, too calm, but you knew him well enough by now to see the tension coiled tightly beneath the surface.

Spencer was visibly nervous, his hands shaking as he checked and rechecked the gear in the back of the van. Chas and Eric exchanged uneasy glances, their usual bravado gone. Everyone felt it—the weight of what you were about to do.

Warren’s hand brushed against yours as he passed, the brief touch sending a surge of electricity through you. You looked over at him, your eyes meeting for a split second, and in that moment, everything else faded away. You didn’t need words. You knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

This was it. The point of no return.

The plan was simple in theory. You’d all practiced it a hundred times. But as you moved through the steps, sneaking into the library, avoiding the security cameras, making your way to the rare books lay. It all felt surreal, like you were watching it happen from outside your own body.

Spencer was the first to falter. His hands shook as he tried to unlock the door to the rare books room, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Spence,” Warren hissed, his voice low and urgent. “Focus.”

But Spencer couldn’t focus. The pressure was too much, the fear too overwhelming. You could see it in his eyes—the doubt, the panic. And for a moment, you wondered if he was going to bolt, to abandon the plan entirely.

But then Warren stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “You can do this,” he whispered, his voice steady, commanding. “We’ve come too far. Don’t back out now.”

Something in Warren’s voice seemed to snap Spencer out of his spiral. His hands stopped shaking, and after a few tense seconds, the lock clicked open. The door swung inward, revealing the dimly lit room where the rare books were housed.

Your heart pounded as you stepped inside, the others close behind you. This was it—the moment of truth.

Here’s the continuation, focusing on the intense drama of the heist as everything begins to spiral out of control.

The heavy door to the rare books creaked open, revealing shelves lined with ancient texts, priceless volumes that could change your lives forever. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows, making the room feel more like a tomb than a treasure trove. The thick air smelled of aged paper and polished wood, the weight of history pressing down on all of you.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears so loudly that you could barely hear the others as they moved behind you. Warren was at your side, his focus sharp, movements steady. He reached out and gently squeezed your hand, grounding you in the chaos of what was happening. There was a brief flash of that same connection between you, a reminder of the night before, but now it was overshadowed by the reality of what you were doing.

Spencer, shaking but determined, moved toward the glass case at the center of the room, where the most valuable books were stored. The plan was simple—break the glass, grab the books, and get out. But as you watched him struggle to keep his nerves in check, you felt the cold edge of doubt creeping into your thoughts.

Warren’s voice cut through the tense silence. “Spence, now.”

Spencer swallowed hard, nodded, and lifted the heavy crowbar he had been clutching. You could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the fear in his eyes. For a split second, you wondered if he was going to lose it, if he’d freeze. But then he brought the crowbar down on the glass with a loud crack.

The sound echoed in the small room, shattering the silence and sending a jolt of adrenaline through your veins. The glass splintered, falling away in jagged shards, revealing the treasures inside.

Warren was on it in a second, quick and efficient. He carefully reached into the case and began pulling out the books—these rare, priceless pieces of history that would be your ticket to millions. His hands moved with a precision that matched the intensity in his eyes. You knew he had been waiting for this moment, building up to it for months, if not years. And now, it was finally happening.

But just as Warren grabbed the last book, the loud, jarring sound of an alarm pierced the air.

Everyone froze.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You had planned this meticulously. Spencer had studied the security system inside and out. The alarm shouldn’t have gone off. But there it was, blaring, filling the room with its high-pitched wail and sending a wave of panic through all of you.

“Fuck!” Warren cursed, shoving the book into the bag he had slung over his shoulder. His eyes were wild now, the calm facade cracking under the pressure.

Spencer looked like he was about to be sick, his face pale and drenched in sweat. “I don’t understand… I disabled the system!”

“There’s no time.” Warren snapped, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the exit. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Your legs felt like they were moving through water as you followed him, the adrenaline surging through you like a tidal wave. Every step felt heavier than the last, the reality of the situation crashing down around you. The plan was falling apart. You weren’t ready for this.

Behind you, Chas and Eric scrambled to follow, their faces pale with fear. “We need to split up!” Chas yelled, his voice barely audible over the blaring alarm. “We’ll cover more ground!”

Warren hesitated, his hand still gripping yours tightly, his mind racing through options. He looked at you for a split second, and you could see the struggle in his eyes. He wasn’t going to leave you, but he also knew that staying together might get you all caught.

“Go!” you said, pushing him toward the others. “I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point!”

“No way.” Warren said firmly, his jaw clenched. “I’m not leaving you.”

Before you could argue, Spencer’s voice broke through. “We need to move! They’re going to be here any second!”

Warren cursed again under his breath, but finally, he let go of your hand. “Be careful.” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“I will” you promised, but even as you said it, the fear clawed at the edges of your mind.

You broke off from the others, slipping down a narrow hallway toward the side exit, your footsteps barely audible over the shrieking alarm. Your heart pounded in your chest as you moved quickly, your mind racing. The heist was already going wrong, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the police arrived.

When you reached the side door, your fingers fumbled with the handle, slick with sweat. You were trying to steady your breathing, trying to keep your focus, but the panic was creeping in, making it harder to think clearly. Finally, the door clicked open, and you slipped outside into the cold night air.

The parking lot was eerily quiet compared to the chaos inside the library. The distant wail of sirens echoed in the distance, getting closer by the second. You knew you didn’t have much time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not yet.

You looked around, scanning the area for any sign of the others. Where were they? They should have been right behind you. The plan was to split up and meet at the van parked a few blocks away, but something didn’t feel right.

And then you saw him.

Warren was sprinting across the lot, his face hidden behind the mask, his movements fast and purposeful. He was heading straight for you, the intensity in his eyes visible even from a distance. But just as he reached you, the screech of tires filled the air, and a police car came skidding around the corner, its lights flashing in the darkness.

“Shit!” Warren grabbed your arm, pulling you behind a nearby dumpster as the police car barreled toward the entrance of the library.

“We need to move,” he whispered urgently, his breath hot against your ear. “Now.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, the adrenaline making your legs feel like they were about to give out. But you couldn’t afford to stop, not now. Together, you and Warren darted across the lot, sticking to the shadows as you made your way toward the back alley where the getaway van was supposed to be waiting.

But as you rounded the corner, you froze.

The van was gone.

“Where the fuck are they?” Warren muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the empty alley with growing frustration. The others had been in charge of the van, but now there was no sign of them. Your stomach dropped as you realized how bad this was.

The sirens grew louder, and you could see more police cars pulling into the lot, their lights flashing like warning signs. The clock was ticking, and the window for escape was closing fast.

“They ditched us.” you whispered, the cold truth settling in.

Warren’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening. “No. We’ll figure it out.”

But you both knew the reality of the situation. Without the van, your chances of getting out clean were slim to none.

Warren grabbed your hand, pulling you down the alley as fast as your legs would carry you. The streets were eerily empty at this hour, and you could hear the distant sound of radios crackling, police coordinating their search.

“We can still make it.” Warren said, more to himself than to you. “There’s another way out.”

You followed him through the maze of backstreets, your pulse pounding in your ears. You didn’t know where you were going, and you weren’t sure if Warren did either, but at this point, all you could do was trust him.

The sounds of sirens grew fainter as you put more distance between yourselves and the library. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs burning from the effort of running. Warren kept a firm grip on your hand, pulling you along even when you stumbled, refusing to let you fall behind.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, Warren led you into a quiet, dark side street. There was no sign of the police, no sign of anyone. For the first time since the alarm had gone off, you allowed yourself to breathe.

Warren stopped, leaning against the wall of a building, his chest heaving with exhaustion. You collapsed beside him, your legs trembling from the adrenaline and fear. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavily in the air.

“We did it,” you whispered, more to convince yourself than anything.

Warren let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “Barely.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes still dark with intensity, but there was something else there too—relief. Relief that you had made it, that you were still together. Without thinking, you reached out and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him toward you.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, like you were trying to reassure each other that you were still alive, still here. Warren’s hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the world around you disappeared.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathing heavily, Warren rested his forehead against yours. “We’re not out of this yet.” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

You nodded, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his jacket. “I know.”

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You had each other, and for now, that was enough.

You and Warren sat in silence, pressed against the cold brick wall of the alley, both of you breathing heavily as the weight of what had just happened sank in. The distant wail of sirens had finally faded, leaving behind an eerie quiet that felt more oppressive than comforting.

Warren’s grip on your hand loosened, and you slowly released him, your heart still racing. The adrenaline that had kept you moving, kept you alive, was starting to drain away, leaving behind an uncomfortable heaviness in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was fear, exhaustion, or something else entirely.

“We have to keep moving,” Warren finally said, his voice rough, but steady. He was trying to stay calm, trying to hold it together, but you could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Everything hadn’t gone according to plan, and now you were both left to pick up the pieces.

You nodded, though your legs felt like lead. The weight of the night was catching up with you fast. “Where do we go?”

Warren rubbed a hand over his face, glancing around the darkened street. He looked exhausted, worn down by the panic and chaos that had unfolded back at the library. His shoulders sagged under the weight of everything that had gone wrong.

“We find the others.” he muttered, but there was doubt in his voice.

The truth was sinking in. Chas, Eric, Spencer, they’d left without you. Maybe they’d panicked, maybe they’d thought you’d been caught, or maybe they’d just decided to save their own skins. Whatever the reason, they were gone, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

For the first time that night, Warren’s mask slipped completely, and you saw the raw frustration, the anger bubbling beneath the surface. His jaw clenched as he stood up, pacing in front of you. His hands balled into fists, and for a moment, you thought he might punch the nearest wall.

“They were supposed to wait,” he growled, his voice low, barely controlled. “They ditched us.”

You stood up, too, feeling the ache in your legs from all the running. Your body was trembling, a mix of fear, adrenaline, and the realization that everything had fallen apart.

“They were scared,” you said quietly, trying to rationalize it, even though it hurt. “We all were.”

“They were cowards,” Warren shot back, the anger flaring in his voice. “We trusted them. I trusted them.” His hand went to his pocket, where the stolen books were still tucked away, the only physical proof of the heist that had gone horribly wrong.

You stepped closer to him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “But we made it out. We’re still here. Together.”

His eyes met yours, the anger in them softening as he looked at you. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. And then, finally, he exhaled, the tension draining from his body as he slumped back against the wall. “Yeah… together.”

You both stood there in the alley, the cold air biting at your skin, and for the first time since everything went wrong, you allowed yourself to think about what came next. The heist was over, but the consequences were only beginning.

You and Warren had managed to find a place to hide, a dingy motel on the outskirts of town where no one would think to look for you. The room was small and smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were safe, for now.

Warren sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, the weight of the night finally catching up with him. The stolen books were laid out on the table, still intact, but they felt like a hollow victory. The plan had fallen apart, and you weren’t even sure if the others had made it out safely.

You sat down next to him, not saying anything, just feeling the exhaustion in every fiber of your being. The adrenaline had long since worn off, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue that was impossible to shake. Your mind kept replaying the events of the night, the moment the alarm went off, the sound of the glass breaking, the van that never came. Every time you closed your eyes, you could still hear the sirens.

“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Warren didn’t answer right away. He was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched tight. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, but there was a crack in his armor, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen in him before.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough. “We get out of town. We lay low until things cool off.”

“And the books?”

Warren’s eyes flicked toward the pile of stolen volumes on the table, but there was no satisfaction in his gaze. “They’re still worth a lot. We can still sell them… eventually.”

Eventually. That was the keyword. You both knew it would be risky to try and move the books now, with the police already on high alert. They’d be looking for whoever had stolen them, and selling them too soon could get you caught.

You leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. Your body ached, but it wasn’t just physical. The emotional toll of the heist was sinking in, and you felt like you were unraveling. The fear, the panic, the betrayal from the others. It all weighed heavily on you.

Warren must have sensed it because he reached over, his hand brushing against yours. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. Despite everything, you still had each other.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft and full of regret.

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this,” Warren replied, his gaze dropping to the floor again. “I thought I had everything figured out, but I didn’t. And now… now you’re stuck in the middle of this mess.”

You turned to him, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “I made my own choice, Warren. I wanted to be here. With you.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes dark and full of emotions he couldn’t put into words. There was guilt there, mixed with something deeper, something you hadn’t expected to see.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

“You won’t,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world outside that motel room felt distant, almost unreal, as if the chaos of the night had been nothing more than a bad dream. The only thing that felt real was Waren. His warmth, the steadiness of his breath, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him, slow and tender. This kiss wasn’t like the ones before, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. This was different, softer, more intimate, like a quiet promise in the aftermath of the storm.

Warren’s hands slid up to your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The fear, the uncertainty, the heist, it all disappeared, leaving just the two of you in the dimly lit room, holding on to each other like you were the only thing that mattered.

When you finally pulled away, Warren rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re wrong.” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “We deserve each other.”

Sleep didn’t come easily. Every sound outside the motel, every passing car, every distant voice, made your heart race, the paranoia of getting caught gnawing at you. Warren had drifted into a restless sleep beside you, his arm draped over your waist, but even in sleep, he looked troubled. You knew the weight of everything was crushing him, just as it was crushing you.

You turned to face him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft rhythm of his breathing. Despite everything that had happened, despite the chaos and the danger, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you belonged here, with him. It wasn’t just the adrenaline or the thrill of the heist that had drawn you to him—it was something deeper, something you couldn’t put into words.

But as you lay there in the dark, the cold reality of your situation settled in. The heist had failed in more ways than one. Even if you had escaped, even if you had the books, the danger was far from over. The police would be looking for you. The others had vanished, and you had no way of knowing if they’d been caught, or if they’d turn on you to save themselves.

You glanced at the stolen books on the table, their spines gleaming in the faint light of the motel lamp. They were supposed to be your ticket to freedom, your way out. But now, they felt more like a curse.

As you lay there, Warren stirred beside you, his hand tightening around your waist as if he sensed your unease. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you, his expression soft but filled with the same weight of everything that had happened.

“We’ll be okay,” he whispered, though you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You didn’t answer right away, because you weren’t sure if he was right. But as you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

And for now, that was enough.

tags!- @marchsfreakshow

[joker-junior]

HEY I'M JJ!

Name: JJ (JoKer JUNior) Age: 19 Powers: heLLa smarT (I made MY OWN elEctrIC gunS and AnTi-graVity shoes!) Bio: MoM and Dad Found ME and turnEd me Into thEir pErfeCT kid. I Help them WIth heiSts and stuFF but I like HangiNg out at LibRarIEs in my freE Time! I wanNA make FriendS.

OOC: Tim was captured around 13 years old as Robin by the Joker and electrocuted/tortured for information on Batman's identity and his own. Tim refused to give up the information. Joker kept Tim hidden underground for months before he broke and JJ appeared. Joker still didn't get the info he wanted, thankfully. Technically the way I'll be RPing JJ is that he's an alter who took front to protect Tim from the torture, so he doesn't remember who he used to be, or the identities of his former fellow heroes. He knows that Tim is there in his mind as well (though not by name), but if Tim is asked about or if he's assumed to be Tim, JJ will probably panic and say something along the lines of 'Secret is sleeping'. A few years have passed since that point and he's in his late teens now, and he tends to prefer ambling around Gotham just having some mild chaotic fun over helping Joker with his schemes. He adores Harley, and is scared but respectful of Joker. JJ is really looking to make some friends- I hope you all like him! Additional notes: JJ is transmasc and have gotten top surgery 👌 Currently in a bonded-cat relationship with @alzhul and has been taken in by @jason-peter-todd-harper . Also here's his current blog banner!

[sojuzz]

Hi it's me yet again

To request Ravager! Reader x Banhammer

Thank :)

☆Ban hammer x Ravager reader headcanons

Credits to:imppular^^

-starting off, how did you two meet? Well during one of the heists he was chasing the crook but somehow he mistook you for the criminal and you also mistook him as a hostile attacker.

-lets just say he was flabbergasted when you pulled out your shield to obviously shield yourself knowing that the criminal did not have any weapons but a crowbar to begin with.

-sadly they got away but you gained an apologetic warden on you knees begging you to forgive his foolishness but hey! You gained a friend!

-from a friend to a best friend to a combatant to yk lovers^_^

-i mean you could learn a trick or two from him and he would do the same

-one time you guys got into an argument and he sent you to the banlands😭

-just like my ban hammer romantic headcanons which you can find!

-he loves to train with you side by side!,you two are unstoppable together at this point

-sometimes wonder how you can carry both a sword and a shield together

-one time he did mess with your armour by putting itching powder on it

-but it was for pure intentions! You were sick at the time and he did not allow you to fight alongside him.

-overall he does love and admire you for being as brave as him.

A/N: I genuinely THINK YOU MEAN FROM CRITICAL STRIKE SO MB😥also very ooc and short overall ill make a drabble for this later (pls ignore how i wrote it was Ravager in the banner pls)

[yelenasbraid]

𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝒌𝒂𝒛 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒌𝒌𝒆𝒓

summary — kaz knew you had a childhood best friend, what he didn’t know was that best friend was nikolai lantzov, aka the king of ravka

warnings — fem!heartrender!reader, angst, fluff, slightly ooc kaz because i’m still trying to figure out how to write him

“𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐃?” jesper’s disbelieving tone caused you to raise an eyebrow.

“what about him?” you asked thoughtfully. you didn’t know that jesper knew of sturmhond and his adventures. you also didn’t plan on any of the crows knowing of your connection to the privateer. thanks to the heist you just completed, that plan was obliterated.

“you know him,” it was kaz that spoke up this time, “you didn’t just know him, he’s your best friend,” the words were laced with venom, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine. your eyes averted to your boots. why was it such a big deal?

“it’s not that big of a deal-”

“it is a big deal. where do your allegiances lie?” he growled. his question made you blink. you picked up your eyes and stared at him, disbelief and anger at the fact he’d say something like that.

kaz wasn’t stupid. he saw the anger flash across your eyes, but he also saw how his question deeply offended you. he was questioning your loyalty to the crows, one of the things you’ve never wavered in. he saw how close you were with nikolai, he saw how he’d embraced you earlier in their heist, making you laugh and making you smile that beautiful smile. it was something he wished he could do, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t embrace you, he couldn’t make you laugh as hard, and that smile was a rarity. he’d tell himself it was the job, that you concentrated greatly on your assigned task and because of that, you rarely smiled or laughed. he hated it.

“you dare question my loyalties,” you meant it to come off defensive, angry even, but combined with the exhaustion from your previous job, your eyes stung with tears instead. you kept your eye contact with him, despite the temptation to look away. his heartbeat echoed in your ears, the quickness of the beats distracting you for a moment.

kaz fell silent. his words struck a nerve, and usually he wouldn’t care. usually he wanted his words to strike a nerve with someone, it usually meant he was going to get something he wanted. this was different. this was you. the ray of light in the midst of a bleak sky, the comfort of an embrace without the touch of a hand, and the beauty that radiated amongst the ugliness of ketterdam and of him. he was a monster, and didn’t deserve someone like you.

a scoff from your lips drew him out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking back to yours. the others had left the floor now, leaving the now-closed club floor to yourselves. thankfully.

“you should have stayed with him,” kaz spoke. he knew nikolai offered you a place at the palace, even amongst the higher ranking grisha. he never heard your response, but seeing as you were in front of him, he knew you chose not to.

“why?” you scoffed, your arms slapping against your thighs. “why should i have?”

“he’s a king, y/n. anyone would take that offer,” he would. if he was offered luxury, he told himself he’d take it.

“aren’t you a king? the king of the barrel?” you countered. another silence fell among you. you swallowed, watching as kaz processed your words. technically, he was the bastard of the barrel, but he didn’t expect those words to come tumbling out of your mouth, yet they did.

“in a world where there are kings, i chose to stay with the one who saw me at my worst and offered me solace anyways,” the softness returned to your voice, your words continuing to confuse kaz. yes, he’d agreed to pay off your indenture as a grisha servant, but he never viewed that as giving you solace. he needed someone with your abilities, and paying off your indenture was the solution. he didn’t plan on falling for you, his heart pounding whenever you’d come hear him. he didn’t expect to worry about you to the point where he became insufferable, well, more than usual. his falling in love with you made him an insufferable man.

“i didn’t give you solace,”

“it wasn’t the merchant’s mansion, and that’s solace enough for me,” by now you were close, but not touching. kaz felt his heart squeeze in his chest, but his anxiety wasn’t because of the proximity, no, it was because of you.

“i can’t give you what he can,” it was his turn to catch you off guard. you widened your eyes, but knew it took every ounce of his being to confess that to you, even if it was barely above a whisper.

“i don’t want what he can give me,” you assured, your hand reaching out for his. you didn’t quite take it, letting your hand ghost over his gloved one. he felt the warmth from your hand, but didn’t pull away from it. he swallowed and closed the gap between your hands, locking your fingers together. it felt natural, and you were warm. he could feel your fingers over his hands, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, but he couldn’t. holding your hand was the extent of what his body would let him do.

“you were jealous,” you chuckled, your eyes bright with mischief. he let go of your hand, fighting back a smile of his own.

“finish cleaning the bar,” he told her, watching as she stepped away from him to finish her job. he felt the warmth from her hand still sitting in his own, and for the first time in a long time, kaz brekker had a second of peace.

i surprise myself with how well i write when i’m half asleep. anyways! i’m hoping to write more for our beautiful grishaverse babes so we’ll see how that goes! if i should do a taglist for the grishaverse let me know!

[iomoru]

✧ Beneath the Surface ✧

A/n: I forgot to post this draft xd (this sh was stuck in my drafts for a long time 😭🙏)

Genre: Modern Au!, Fluff, Heizou x Reader, Gn! Reader, Rivals to Lovers(?), Heizou might be a little ooc, Second Person, Proofread

Summary: In a game of cat and mouse, Detective Heizou has always been hot on your trail, never quite able to catch you—until now. But when he finally pins you down, the tension between rivals shifts into something more. Lines blur as the chase reveals feelings neither of you expected, leaving you to wonder: do you really want to escape this time?

You were always a step ahead. Clever heists, flawless execution, and no trace left behind. It was almost a game to you—a challenge to outsmart the city’s sharpest detective. And that detective, of course, was none other than Shikanoin Heizou.

For months, you’d been at it. Heizou would be hot on your trail, and just when he thought he had you cornered, you’d slip away, leaving only a sly message behind.

"Better luck next time, Detective."

Heizou was persistent, though. He didn’t just chase you because it was his job—there was something more. You could see it in the way he studied your every move, a challenge in his sharp, intelligent eyes. Every encounter felt like a chess match, one filled with tension and the thrill of trying to outdo each other.

But something was shifting. As much as you relished the chase, you couldn’t help but notice the way Heizou looked at you. Not with disdain, as one would expect from a detective to a criminal, but with curiosity. With interest. It threw you off balance, and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to look at him differently too.

The last job didn’t go as planned. You were so close to making a clean getaway, but Heizou caught you—literally. One moment you were slipping into the shadows, and the next, you were pinned against a wall, Heizou’s hand firmly grasping your wrist.

"Thought you could get away again, huh?" His voice was low, teasing, a small smirk on his lips.

You scowled, trying to shake him off, but his grip only tightened. "Let go, Detective. Or do you enjoy this little game too much?"

Heizou raised an eyebrow, his eyes scanning your face. "You know, it’s funny. For someone so determined to stay ahead, you seem to enjoy being caught just as much as I enjoy catching you."

Your heart skipped a beat. The closeness between you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin, sent a shiver down your spine. But you couldn’t let him win that easily, not when it came to this.

"You wish," you shot back, but your voice was softer, less defiant than usual.

Heizou leaned in just slightly, his gaze holding yours, daring you to say more. "I do, You’ve been keeping me on my toes. Maybe I like it."

The tension between you was undeniable now, your rivalries forgotten for a moment. The line between hunter and hunted blurred, and you were no longer sure who was chasing who.

You swallowed, your resolve wavering. "What happens now?"

Heizou’s smirk softened into something more genuine, his thumb brushing against your wrist. "I should be arresting you."

"Should be," you echoed, your voice quieter now.

Heizou sighed, his grip loosening. "But where’s the fun in that?"

For a brief moment, it was as if the entire world had paused. Heizou’s eyes searched yours, not as a detective eyeing a criminal, but as something...more. He let go, stepping back, his expression a mix of regret and something you couldn’t quite place.

"Go. I’ll catch you next time," he said, though there was no venom in his voice, only a quiet promise.

You hesitated, heart racing. You could make a break for it—disappear again into the night. But something held you there, the unspoken understanding between you lingering in the air.

"You will," you murmured, before turning and vanishing into the darkness.

But this time, you weren’t running. Not really. You knew it wasn’t over between you two. In fact, it felt like it was just beginning.

This time, the chase had brought something else to the surface, something you both couldn’t ignore any longer. Heizou wasn’t just chasing a criminal anymore—he was chasing you. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to be caught.

A/n: I really like the part where he pinned us down

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.