#wylan van eck fanfic
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swanimagines · 9 months ago
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SAIL TO ME | WYLAN VAN ECK
Summary: After you accidentally kiss Wylan, Jesper needs to make you believe that maybe it wasn't as embarrassing as you thought it was.
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The meeting room was quiet, as the seven of you were looking over the upcoming plan - Kaz had just told your assignments, your job being fetching some stuff from the market. So now you were hunched over the corner table, writing down notes for your pre-heist shopping trip.
You put the quill away, pouring some sand over the paper and then picked it up, reading it over one last time. You turned around abruptly, not knowing Wylan was right behind you peering over your shoulder - and somehow, your lips met his as soon as you collided with him. You retreated right away of course - well, after a second or two because you were shocked - and caught a glimpse of Wylan’s face turning redder than Nina’s robe before he quickly turned away, and you swallowed, trying to play it off, clearing your throat and waving your shopping list towards Kaz.
“Okay, um… so we’ll go fetch some iron fake coins with Jesper. And a lock. Got it.”
“Fake copper coins. And not real copper, it’s too expensive, this will be a distraction and not a charity. Didn’t you pay attention?” Kaz retorted with a sigh, and you nodded, muttering a confirmation before making your way to the door before anyone else could say anything.
Jesper had to run for a few steps to catch you, and started to grin at you immediately when he fell into step with you. You endured it for a good five minutes, but when he wouldn’t stop, you groaned, stopping and facing the sharpshooter. “What?”
Jesper laughed. “You kissed the merchling,” he sang.
“No, I did not!” you exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly.
“And got flustered about it.”
“No I didn’t, stop it.”
Jesper shrugged. “Okay, why were you so close, staying still, after you turned?”
“Why does it even matter?” you retorted, then sighed. “We got spooked. Wylan was right behind me, and I didn’t notice him. I turned and Wylan didn’t have time to react, and… in the process our lips may have touched. I’m not sure though, it was over so quickly.”
Jesper snorted, looking at the grey sky for a moment before shifting his eyes at you again. “And you’re saying you didn’t enjoy it?”
“No…” you mumbled, shifting weight between your feet. “Well, a little.”
Jesper raised his eyebrows. “A little?”
You groaned. “Okay! Quite a lot. But I know he doesn’t like me back, it’s stupid to like him.”
Jesper huffed. “Not so sure about that. His behavior changes a lot whenever you’re around.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, he’s shy. Maybe I’m intimidating him,” you replied with a shrug.
Jesper chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I recognise lovey-dovey expressions when I see them. I’m the master of romance, after all.”
You rubbed your forehead in frustration, giving in. “Okay, I’ll talk to him. Later. Not now, we have shopping to do.”
“Yes! Finally. Nina owes me,” Jesper cheered and you laid a puzzled look on him, and Jesper grimaced. “Uh, we might have bet on which of us gets the ship sailing.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Charming. I’m flattered, truly.”
Then, you continued walking, quicker this time, and Jesper had to take a few running steps once again. You spent the rest of the shopping trip almost completely silent, letting Jesper ramble about his own love adventures, and now a small flame of hope was igniting your insides. You were nervous to talk to Wylan, but you also were excited for it - maybe it would lead to something you had dreamed about for a while.
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Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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jahayla-parker · 2 years ago
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Anon req
I am going to watch shadow and bone when I get home and I feel in love with Wylan in the trailer and I'm a sucker for overprotective shit or protective vibes.
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Demo : Wylan Van Eck x Reader
Description: 7.1k wc, 3 times Wylan overprotects Reader and one time Reader overprotects him. Fluff, overprotective. Gender neutral/ they pronouns as is my rule for all Wylan fics.
Warnings: SAB/SOC type warnings
Note: y/w/t = your weapon type (aka your choice of weapon). Thank you @ell0ra-br3kk3r for helping me double-check that Wylan is canon in this and not too confident but also not too soft!
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“Hey Wy” y/n greeted. They yawned quietly and neared Wylan’s work station. He’d been in his lab for the last few hours and y/n was missing him. So they figured they’d come down and join him.
Wylan looked up from the test tube in his hand and smiled widely at y/n. He noticed the way they seemed tired, their eyes somewhat heavy. He tilted his head to the side as he scanned their body for any other signs of fatigue or distress.
“How are things going?” Y/n questioned, kissing his cheek before walking to one of his other tables to look around.
Wylan blushed, hanging his head and smiled to himself, “mmm, they’re good. I actually finished the new concoction that Kaz was say-“.
Wylan cut himself off as his eyes widened. In the few seconds he looked away from them, y/n had seemingly found his fusion bomb powder. It was designed to only require a small degree of heat to activate its melting properties. Yet it could burn at a very high temperature once it was activated.
“Don't mess with that!” Wylan shouted, rushing over to them and taking the sample from y/n’s hand. He sighed when y/n frowned and looked away, a shimmer of guilt in their eyes. “Hey,” he whispered timidly as he set the sample further back on the table. “It’s only because I worry you'll hurt yourself!” Wylan explained, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe both of their hands with.
“From the outside of the container?” Y/n pondered, their eyes trailing over to the see-through jar that was once in their hand.
Wylan could sense the apprehension and fear in y/n’s eyes as they stared at the sample. “Love” Wylan hummed softly, dabbing their hands free of any potential residue. “You’re safe, I wouldn’t let you down be here if there were any risk to you by your mere presence” he promised with flushed cheeks, squeezing their hand as he dried it.
“Let me?” Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow at their boyfriend.
This made him chuckle nervously, bouncing his leg anxiously as he cleaned his own hands. “In this type of instance yes, let”.
“This type of instance?” Y/n questioned.
“When it comes to your safety” Wylan explained, smiling bashfully, his head hung slightly as he tried to hide his flushed cheeks.
“I love you Wylan, but I have a feeling you’re overreacting” y/n giggled.
Wylan scoffed loudly, squinting his eyes at y/n despite his still red cheeks, “I assure you I am not. These aren’t toys”.
Y/n nodded, “I know, my beautiful demo man”.
This prompted Wylan to blush and look down at his now nervously shuffling feet.
“But, I think if it’s in a jar, on the table, it must be relatively stable Hmm?” Y/n argued.
“You’re correct, but I don’t want to risk any residue getting on you, especially from ones as dangerous as that one you grabbed” he defended, holding his head high despite his shy gaze.
Y/n looked at the table of various chemical mixtures their boyfriend had been working on. “It’s one of the more dangerous ones?” They asked, peering back at him.
“Yes, my dear. You, of course, managed to grab the only one from that table I feared you touching” Wylan smirked with a teasing shimmer in his eyes and his deep blush spreading.
“I can touch the others?” Y/n questioned, eyes hopeful.
“I don’t see why you would want to but, theoretically, yes. They are inactive until combined” Wylan admitted hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck.
Yn hummed, “and the one I grabbed..?”
“It’s already mixed and ready for usage. It reacts to body heat. It’s not ready yet as I need it to be more reactive. But, as it is one’s hands are far too warm to hold it” Wylan explained.
He grinned timidly, his eyes shifting throughout the room as he grabbed y/n’s hands. “No one should hold it without gloves on house. Especially not you and your impossibly warm hands” Wylan smiled lopsidedly.
Y/n bit their lip, “I have warm hands?”
“Very and I love it, but it means you are absolutely not to be touching that” Wylan stated, shifting to block them from the container even further as a signal of how sincere he was. Despite trying to come off confident and self-assured, he timidly fiddled with his fingers as his hands hung by his waist. But he meant what he said nonetheless.
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Y/n limped through the door, the excruciating pain in their abdomen slowing them down. They’d been returning from running an errand for Kaz prior to a heist and was caught unarmed. It was supposed to be a simple task, and to be fair it was.
It wasn’t the task itself that presented a problem. Instead, when y/n had completed the errand for Kaz, they ran into some of the dime lions crew. Y/n knew how to fight, but was majorly outnumbered. Not to mention they didn’t have any weapons on them, being unable to hide one of theirs.
That combined with the fact one couldn’t be seen with one on them during the meeting with the merchants’ council meant they hadn’t brought one with them.
“I am in pain." Y/n greeted, somewhat playfully in hopes of lighting up the tense situation they knew was about to happen.
“Do vou mean emotional pain or - Oh Saints!” Wylan panicked, his eyes huge as he ran over.
Whatever he’d been working on was now abandoned. His arms immediately braced their shoulders as Wylan looked over the patch of blood. There was a large spread of blood seeping from y/n’s left abdomen.
“That is a lot of blood!" Wylan pointed out, his breath hitched.
Y/n nodded slightly, bracing themselves against the metal railing on the short set of stairs between the doorway and his office.
“Oh Saints, what happened to you?!" Wylan questioned his partner, dragging y/n towards one of his laboratory tables. His eyes quickly scanned the contents of the table to ensure there weren’t any unsafe substances on it. Once he deemed it safe, Wylan abruptly swiped his arm over the table. All the glass test tubes, measuring tools, etc. were brushed away; many shattering on the floor.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “Wy, it looks worse than it is”. They weren’t sure if that was entirely true. They hadn’t looked at the wound fully yet, and it didn’t feel great. But Wylan didn’t need to hear that.
“You're covered in blood! Is it yours?" He questioned anxiously, moving y/n over slowly and helping them onto the now-empty table space.
Y/n smiled faintly and bit their lip. Wylan sighed and restlessly ran his hand through his curls. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d tried to warn them against leaving the slat or crows club without some weapon on them. He’d also requested Kaz not send them on errands in which they’d be unable to carry a weapon.
Despite his frustration, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on y/n’s cheek. “Sit still, I'm gonna fix you right up, okay?" Wylan requested, his eyes glancing down at their wound before back to y/n’s face. Once Wylan earned a nod, he ungracefully sprinted to another section of his lab.
Wylan rushed back, arms full of first aid supplies. He set them next to y/n and impatiently scrambled through them until he grabbed the cleaning solution. “This will sting, love” he warned softly, squeezing y/n’s hand. Y/n nodded and held onto his hand tightly as Wylan poured some of the alcohol based solution over their wound.
Y/n audibly hissed, their grip on Wylan’s hand tightening as the liquid stung y/n’s skin.
“Do you want to share what happened?” Wylan asked, his voice calm despite his erratic breathing and frantic eyes.
“I was stabbed” y/n groaned, biting their lip as Wylan dabbed carefully at the edges of the wound.
He had to clear the blood from the edges so he could see where to stitch. The cleaning solution had helped remove some of the excess blood, but there was still a decent amount blocking his view. “Just a few more wipes” He promised, squeezing y/n’s hand again as he tenderly pressed the wet cloth to the last patch of smeared blood.
Once he could see enough to stretch and vantage the wound, he started up at y/n with a frustrated look. “Let me try again. Do you want to share how you got stabbed?” Wylan questioned, picking up a needle from his kit.
He paused and let his eyes flicker back to yn’s. “And don’t say with a blade” he warned, a timid smirk on his lips over knowing what y/n’s sarcastic tension breaking response would be.
Y/n sighed with dramatized defeat, “I was out numbered.”
Y/n saw Wylan’s lips had tugged downwards as he listened, his eyes still focused on moving the needle through y/n’s separated skin. Y/n knew what he was wondering. Why was y/n alone? Did y/n have their weapon with them? If so, why wasn’t it enough? And what could have been done differently?
It was always the same sweet set of questions he’d have whenever Y/n was even slightly scratched during an errand for Kaz. Wylan was, to say the least, overprotective when it came to y/n. But he meant well.
“I didn’t have my y/w/t. It wouldn’t be concealed and I had to meet with the merchants council, they don’t exactly allow y/w/t into those meetings “ y/n confessed with a shrug.
Wylan’s eyes snapped to y/n’s face upon their completion of the horrible action. He knew before it even crossed y/n’s face that the movement had to have caused a tremendous amount of pain. He frowned and squeezed their hand in a nervous attempt at comforting them as they breathed through the pain.
One Y/n nodded for Wylan to continue his stitching, they resumed their story . “It was supposed to be a simple meeting. Nothing even actually illegal this time” y/n laughed at the sentiment. When y/n saw Wylan fight to resist a smirk, they smiled. “It should’ve been fine. There was no reason for it not to be. But, some Dime Lions thought it would be a good day to start a fight” y/n summarized.
Wylan grimaced and shook his head, fingers rigidly still as he worked on the last stitch. “Bastards” he mumbled, followed by a loud sigh.
“Wylan!” Yn lovingly scolded with a chuckle.
Wylan’s eyes shifted aimlessly around the room as his rosy cheeks darkened and he bit his lip before giving y/n a bashful look. When he saw y/n wasn’t truly appalled or upset with him for swearing, he visibly calmed.
Taking a deep breath, he shrugged, “they are”.
Wylan tied off the final knot and set his needle down. Letting out a sigh, he clumsily reached over for some bandages to place over the now-stitched wound. “Did they-” He began wondering.
“Learn their lesson?” Y/n interrupted, “yes, yes they did”.
Wylan smirked and looked up at his partner, “oh?”
Y/n grinned and nodded, “I might not have had my y/w/t, but I still had my hands and feet. I gotta confess, they’re gonna need patched up too”.
Wylan huffed “well I’m not doing it, they’re lucky they are able to be patched up still.”
Y/n nodded, “if it were only one man, it would’ve been fine. But, while I was fighting the one guy, another came to his defense, and, well”. They paused as they signaled to their bandaged wound.
Wylan flared his nostrils as he sighed, “I still wish Kaz wouldn’t have sent you alone.”
“I can handle myself Wylan, current case not included” they argued, their tone showing their embarrassment.
Wylan frowned, hating how his remark made them think he doubted them. “I’m not saying you can’t” he promised, his eyes wide and pleading with them to understand. Wylan stroked their cheek tenderly.. “Y/n/n, I know you’re strong and I love that about you. But, you’re also far more caring than most in the Barrel and people know that” he explained.
It was silent for a moment while Wylan walked away from them and over to one of his stations. When he returned, he had a small capped-off tube in his hand. It wasn’t clear what the tube contained, but Wylan examined it again before handing it to y/n.
“Use this next time you’re out numbered or out gunned. I don't want to have to bandage you up again" he requested as he passed them the tube, his hands shaking slightly as he blushed. He had wanted to give y/n the tube before, so he wasn’t certain why he was so nervous about doing so now. Other than that he was requesting them to rely on something he’d created to keep them safe.
Y/n accepted it and lightly rolled it between their fingers in examination. The ingredient in the tube seemed to be a powdery substance. Yet, there was no residue on the outside of the container. It was evident by the dried water stains that Wylan had thoroughly cleaned the outside of it.
If he were honest with himself, Wylan was proud of the creation y/n now held in their hands. It was specifically designed to be easy to use against one’s enemies. But, he didn’t want to risk it falling into the wrong hands or otherwise somehow being used against y/n or his friends.
The substance was designed to bond with one’s sweat. In theory -and later as it turned out, in application as well-, the chemical would be released into the air and be drawn to the typical metabolites and minerals found in human sweat.
Once the substance was bonded with the chemical properties of said sweat, it would result in an acidic burning sensation anywhere sweat was present on the body. It was already impressive for their time, but Wylan needed to know it wouldn’t be able to be sued against them, and namely that y/n and the other crows would be safe from it.
In order to do so, Wylan had spent months developing the base of the powdery substance. He needed to ensure that the powder would only bond to the sweat of others and not those he cared deeply for. It wasn’t impossible given that the pheromones and minute chemical physiological properties in sweat vary from person to person. So while the overlying components were the same, there were some differences that would allow Wylan to tailor the material to be more precise in its target.
While Ketterdam wasn’t exactly warm and frequently the producer of perspiration in its inhabitants, an active fight would produce enough sweat to ignite the material. One didn’t need to sweat profusely for the material to bond. A simple bead of perspiration was enough. Yet, if one waited to dispense it until their target was putting up a decent fight and therefore sweating more, the effect would be better and more widespread.
It took some time to gather materials and data to build chemical profiles for each crows’ perspiration. Wylan was just very pleased that no one seemed to notice that he’d offered to do the laundry for everyone slightly more often than normal. Or at least didn’t notice enough to call him out. To be fair, Wylan suspected Kaz noticed and just opted to let him do it.
Wylan had first tested the results on himself and much to his pleasure, found it to work as intended. From there he told Kaz of his creation and Kaz allowed Wylan to try a small amount on his skin. When both were successful in not producing a burn, Wylan was given permission to use the substance during heists if needed. He knew it was still risky as he hadn’t tried it on each crow yet. Nor did he really want to. But he also didn’t want to be mistaken in thinking they were immune. Therefore, when he used it the first time on a heist, he’d brought another substance with him; one that would counteract the burning should something go wrong.
It didn’t. When he utilized it in the next several heists following its creation, only the intended target was affected. It took multiple rounds of dispensing it successfully when the others were around before Wylan was comfortable saying it was safe for his friends.
He was proud of the work that went into it. But mostly he was proud of how he’d made it safe for those he cared about to use in self defense. Namely, he was excited for y/n to have it on them at all times. It didn’t require a ton of material to work, meaning Y/n could keep it on their person easily and still conceal it.
Y/n smiled as they examined the tube. “How does it work?” They asked, looking up at Wylan.
They didn’t mind using it as he requested, but they needed to know the best way to do so.
Wylan smiled back, his cheeks pink from the way y/n smiled at him. He knew y/n understood a lot about his work by now. They always had an interest in and a pre-university level knowledge in chemistry. Between that and the time they spent keeping Wylan company in his office/lab, Wylan knew he didn’t need to simplify his work for them to understand.
As such, he took his time explaining what the substance did and how to use it. He also made sure to detail how he knew it was safe for them to use and when to disperse it to get the greatest effect.
When he finished, Wylan took a deep breath and added, “You can conceal it easily at all times, and you have my word it’s safe for you to-“
“Wylan” y/n hummed, hopping down from the table despite his protests. “I trust you. Even if I hadn’t understood everything you just said, I’d trust you. I did by the way, understand what you said” they giggled and grabbed his hand. “But my point is, I know you and if there were even the slightest chance it could harm me, saints if it even might be able to make me sneeze, or something small, you wouldn’t let me have it”.
Wylans cheeks flushed profusely and he cautiously wrapped his arms around y/n, “Promise to always carry it?”
Y/n grinned and placed a tender kiss on his chapped lips, “I promise, my handsome demo man”.
Wylan bit his lip as his cheeks somehow reddened even further. He soon was burying his face in y/n’s shoulder bashfully to hide the glow.
“Truly Wy, I’m very impressed. Not surprised, because it’s you. But proud nonetheless, this is impressive” y/n complimented.
Wylan was very pleased his face was smushed in the crook of y/n’s neck as he thought his cheeks might truly match the vial of bromine on his table.
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Wylan heard footsteps enter but his eyes remained focused on the concoction before him. “Stay over there,” he ordered. He winced at his order and guiltily added a soft, “please”.
“You don’t have your goggles on” y/n remarked, staring scrutinizingly at their boyfriend. He had them hanging around his neck, but not protecting his eyes. If he needed y/n to stay back as he worked on the project before him, the least he could do is put on his goggles.
Wylan paused and let his eyes flicker up to his partner, a smile gracing his lips. “Right, of course” he chuckled, looking around for his extra gloves. He didn’t want to touch his goggles with his current set of gloves as they might’ve had some residue on them.
Y/n seemed to notice and began to walk to him.
Despite Wylan’s eyes snapping back towards them and him sending a knowing look their way, y/n continued on. When they reached Wylan’s workstation, they smiled innocently and lifted the goggles until they covered his eyes protectively. “Much better” y/n hummed, blowing a kiss.
Wylan chuckled bashfully, his face red all the up to his ears as his shoulders raised as if to cover said red ears, “Thank you, love”.
As he timidly shoo’d y/n back to the other side of the room, he resumed mixing in the next item. Once the concoction showed to be stable, he removed his gloves and then lowered his goggles. “What brings you here this early?” Wylan teased lightly seeing as how it was unusual for y/n to be up before 8 bells on a day off.
“I had an important question” y/n stated, grabbing a paper bag from beside their feet on the floor.
Wylan squinted his eyes and he signaled for them to come closer. “What seems to be the problem?” He asked softly, extending his hand towards the paper sack.
“Do you know how to get bloodstains out?” Y/n asked, glaring harshly at the stain on their favorite pair of jeans.
Wylan’s eyes shot open wide, his right hand gripping the table and his left snatching the bag from y/n. “W-what?! Why? How? Who? Where? When?" Wylan freaked, pulling a pair of jeans out of the bag. It took him all but two seconds to recognize then as y/n’s favorite pair.
“Dime Lions are still mad at Kaz for stealing their job, or whatever” y/n groaned playfully. They yawned carelessly as they added “seems I’m an easier target than Brekker himself”. Y/n tried to brush it off, but it was clear Wylan wasn’t having it.
“Don't you understand that this isn't okay!?” Wylan remarked loudly, not shying away from his own voice this time.
“Wy, I’m okay, I just don’t want these jeans to be ruined” y/n shrugged, pointing to the stained area.
Wylan took in the sincerity of their facial expressions and laughed softly, “you’re worried about jeans when you were shot in the leg?”
Y/n nodded affirmatively, “ Yes, so?”
Wylan sighed and began to pace, his eyes flickering between Y/n and the bloody jeans in his hand. “You said you would stay safe! Getting shot isn't staying safe!" He declared as he noticed the size and shape of the entry and exit holes on the jeans.
“Sorry, next time I’ll ask them not to shoot me” y/n responded sarcastically.
“Y/n” Wylan sighed, “you know what I mean”.
Y/n stayed silent and watched Wylan closely. They knew Wylan was overprotective of them, but there was only so much they could do to prevent these things. Especially when the Dime Lions were targeting y/n due to a false belief they had.
“What’s going on? Is Kaz sending you on-” Wylan began questioning. He stopped when y/n sighed loudly and looked away from his face.
“Y/n…” he whispered, gently asking for them to explain.
Y/n took a deep breath and let their eyes wander back to Wylan’s face. “Well…” they began quietly. Y/n wasn’t sure how to tell him what had been happening without Wylan being pissed at Kaz. And that was not a fight y/n wanted to see.
Wylan squeezed y/n’s hand softly upon seeing their hesitation and nodded quietly.
“When Kaz sent me to the merchant council meeting the other day for the form he needed, we didn’t know that the Dime Lions were also offered the same job” y/n started slowly.
Wylan hummed, “so that’s why they attacked that night. They knew they were in competition with the Crows, or Kaz”.
Y/n nodded in conformation before reluctantly continuing the explanation. “Kaz evidently found out that night after investigating their attack. He didn’t tell me until yesterday though. But, I guess the merchants’ council was only authorized to approve one person to complete the transaction. When I obtained the approval form, that became me. In order for it to change hands, I either have to sign it over to someone, such as a gang member from the Dime Lions, which obviously isn’t going to happen” they elaborated with a roll of their eyes.
“Or?” Wylan questioned.
Y/n gave him a knowing glance and winced slightly as realization hit his face and shifted into fear and anger.
“Or the authorized person has to die for it to change hands?” He asked, hoping he was mistaken. However, unfortunately for him, y/n nodded and let out a soft mumbled “yes”.
Wylan let go of their hand and began pacing again; the angry energy burning inside him needing an escape.
“You weren’t aware of any of this?” Wylan wondered. He wasn’t judging or doubting them, but he wanted to make sure he knew where his anger should be directed. Especially if he was to storm into Dirtyhands’ office demanding a fix. Wylan took a deep breath as he watched y/n shake their head.
“Kaz knew you were being targeted and why?” He asked, his fists tight at his side as he worked to control his emotions.
Y/n bit their lip and whispered a quiet yes.
“I’m going to…” Wylan groaned, “he’s gonna answer for that”.
Y/n sighed as Wylan began angrily stalking towards the door. It was clear their boyfriend was going to at least verbally attack Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel. Normally they knew Wylan could hold his own, but Dirtyhands earned his nickname and y/n didn’t want to even guess what the outcome of their fight would look like. Y/n knew Kaz could maintain his anger over Wylan charging into his office to yell at him. But they didn’t want to risk it.
“Wylan,-“ y/n pleaded, following him as he started to exit.
“No, this is not acceptable” Wylan argued firmly, not glancing back at y/n as he stomped up the stairs.
—Same Event but Time Skip—
The Crow’s Club was eerily still as Wylan’s voice echoed faintly down the hall and into the main gambling hall. Wylan was usually know to be soft spoken. When it came to anything other than y/n’s life, safety, or happiness that is. So it shocked many of the Dregs to hear the person they believed to be the softer of the Crows shouting at their leader.
It was somewhat difficult to hear exactly what was being said by y/n’s boyfriend. The multiple floors and rooms/walls between Kaz’s office and the gambling den had muffled Wylan’s voice. So while everyone could tell it was tense and who was speaking, the exact words were unknown to most.
But y/n knew why Wylan had gone to Kaz’s office. So they had some semblance of an idea as to what was being discussed. All they could hope was that Kaz was in control of his emotions and ego right now. Based on the fact that you couldn’t hear a second muffled voice responding to Wylan’s, it seemed like that was the case.
Y/n knew her fellow Crows were watching them as they stared at the staircase throughout the shouting. But they didn’t bother acknowledging the group. It wasn’t anything against them. Rather, y/n knew the Crows would already be aware of the general purpose behind Wylan’s behavior.
After all, it was impossible to keep injuries from each other. Especially when y/n had been the unfortunate recipient of multiple injuries in a fairly short time. Not to mention the fact that they came from the hands of the gang of the Crows’ leader’s greatest rival.
Y/n also didn’t feel like answering any questions their friends might ask about the situation. They undoubtedly knew all they truly needed to know. And right now, y/n felt it was much more important to have their focus set on envisioning what was happening up the creaky stairs and behind the dark walls between where Kaz and Wylan were in contrast to the rest of the crows. Y/n was seated on the edge of the barstool closest to the stairwell, ready to throw themselves off of it and up the stairs at the soonest sound of possible danger.
Fortunately, it didn’t come. Instead, Wylan eventually made his way back down the stairs to collect y/n. He then helped wash the blood out of their jeans before they gave it to Inej to stitch a patch over the holes. Compared to the start of the evening, the end of the night was very calm. Whatever had happened in Kaz’s office seemed to appease Wylan’s concerns.
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“Y/n, how could you keep this from me?" Wylan asked. He was mad. Well, mad would be an understatement. He couldn’t figure out why his partner didn’t tell him that the Dime Lions were still after them.
It had been days without trouble from their rival crew. Wylan suspected that meant Kaz handled matters as he ordered him to. However, Wylan found y/n hiding out in the storage room of the club when he went to grab an extra jar for some new materials he’d purchased from a street vendor that morning.
When he asked y/n why they were hiding back there, y/n confessed that the matter wasn’t over. Yet, they didn’t explain the reason why they hadn’t told Wylan. And that was driving him crazy. All he wanted to do was protect y/n. But he couldn’t do that if they didn’t tell him when they were in danger.
Unbeknownst to Wylan, Kaz wouldn’t let y/n take part in any of the next steps of the assignment. Kaz needed the form he had y/n get from the council to process the exchange of goods. He stated the item they’d legally be exchanging was going to be used as leverage/blackmail for their upcoming heist. The person being leveraged would only truly be persuaded by a legally obtained item, hence the unusual legally-completed portion of their heist.
Wylan was aware that the Dime Lions had been offered the job of leveraging the mark and was therefore wanting the form to be in their name so they could move forward. However, he wasn’t aware that y/n was still a target. He’d told Kaz to do whatever it took to remove the threat having over y/n’s head. Which Kaz did, hence why Kaz had required y/n to sign over the approval form to Kaz instead.
But, no one had accounted for the Dime Lions’ newest recruit reading into the sudden change in approved crew members as a potential weakness. The Dime Lions clearly knew y/n was going to be either on-guard and/or guarded by at least one other Crow from now on until the exchange was completed. However, when Kaz completely swapped y/n’s name for his, it served as a signal for the Dime Lions. Everyone knew that if Kaz wanted his name on the form, it would’ve been done that way from the start. So that made the gang question what the cause behind the change was.
The gangs newest recruit, Mapviler, suspected that y/n’s name had not truly been removed. While the whole crew knew there had to have been some intent behind putting y/n’s name on the form to start with, only Mapviler understood that Kaz wasn’t idiotic enough to violate the order and risk losing the leverage of having a legally obtained incentive. He believed that Kaz falsified the documents showing the name change in order to keep the Dime Lions from attacking them still.
Mapviler wasn’t entirely wrong. Kaz didnt want to risk losing their leverage. He was also right about Kaz’s motivation of keeping y/n safe. However, the name change truly did take place. It was done to keep y/n safe, but instead brought more risk when Mapviler misinterpreted the meaning behind it.
As such, Wylan’s orders to Kaz, and Kaz’s subsequent actions, only increased the threat. For now, Mapviler, who was not only the newest member of the Dime Lions, but also the most street smart member of the gang, was even more determined to find y/n. Meanwhile, the Crows suspected the threat was over and had begun to let their guard down. When Kaz caught wind of the misinterpretation and increased threat he alerted y/n.
However, y/n hadn’t told Wylan as they resorted to just hiding out instead. They figured if they hid out until Kaz finished the last steps of the exchange it would keep Wylan from being in danger through association.
Y/n attempted to summarize all of those details for Wylan. They weren’t sure how well they did, as Wylan stood there staring silently at them for what felt like an eternity. In reality it was only a few moments, but it was an intense stare. When Wylan composed himself, he closed his eyes tightly as he stood before y/n.
“It’s my fault,” Wylan stated, his voice saturated with guilt.
Y/n rapidly shook their head, “No, you were just trying to-“.
Wylan’s eyes opened and he sighed, “Doesn’t matter, it’s my fault.”
“But listen,” he begged, squeezing y/n’s hand, “don’t ever keep matters relating to your safety from me, please”.
“Okay, if you promise the same” y/n bartered.
Wylan hummed and nodded, “deal”.
“The deal is the deal” y/n smirked, shaking the hand Wylan had holding theirs.
Wylan let out a small chuckle and shook his head, “we’ll figure this out. They'll have to go through me before they get to you."
“No” y/n stated firmly, pulling their hand back.
“No?” Wylan repeated, confusion taking over his face.
“I don’t want them going through you,” y/n rejected.
“I kinda like you” they added with a sly smirk.
He chuckled more freely this time and blushed.
“Therefore, if we’re going to handle this together, I need you to stay close to me. Please” y/n requested.
Wylan agreed and suggested that he lead them to his lab to hide out in. At least until they formed a better plan.
Y/n silently agreed and followed him down the hallway.
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They’d barely settled into Wylan’s laboratory when there was a loud crashing sound from just around the corner. This prompted Wylan to stand up stiffly, on guard now as he stood between y/n and the sound. Only for y/n to gently push him to the side so he wasn’t in increased danger compared to them.
Not that it mattered as within a few seconds, the whole room erupted into chaos. The room was filled with smoke and y/n couldn’t see through it enough to know what to do. All they could see was Wylan before them, sliding his goggles back up to his eyes.
“Stay here” Wylan whispered as he coughed through the smoke. And then he was gone.
Y/n wanted to scream at him for disappearing from their sight. Instead, they forced themselves to blink through the smoke as it settled. Once everyone could see, the Dime Lions brawlers charged towards y/n.
Yet another fight broke out, y/n once again out numbered. As they took surveillance of the scene, they saw Wylan fighting two men while the other two were headed their way.
“There they are!” One of the men shouted, pointing at y/n.
Wylan’s eyes showed his internal panic as he wrestled with the men while trying to simultaneously watch over y/n.
Meanwhile y/n had managed to grab their y/w/t from its holder and used it to take down two of the men. Y/n was feeling pretty good about their progress until one of them men fighting Wylan suddenly had him kneeling on the floor, a gun pressed to his temple.
“Get your hands off him!” Y/n called out, rising their y/w/t in an offensively driven position pointed it at the man holding Wylan.
Wylan gave y/n a silent look and mouthed “run”. Even from just the look he gave, it was clear he was trying to ask y/n to flee while they could. They both knew the other man had moved from Wylan to come for y/n. But y/n didn’t care, they weren’t leaving. Especially not with Wylan held at gunpoint. Not even though it were more likely for them to try and harm y/n than Wylan.
In fact, Wylan’s attempt to get them to leave only pissed y/n off more. They were furious that he was still trying too hard to protect them when he was the one in danger. So they ignored his mouthed request and turned their sharp gaze to the man approaching them.
Y/n attempted to use their y/w/t against the brawler but the man managed to grab it from them and tossed it across the room. As a result, y/n resorted to using their hand-to-hand combat skills to fight him off. It took numerous strikes to the man’s jaw, nose, and cheeks to get him to back up from them long enough for y/n to arrange a better attack.
As the man came back towards them, y/n leapt up into the air a few inches until they could reach the collar of the man’s shirt. Using the firm grip on the back of his collar, y/n pulled the man into a crouched position. At the same time, y/n brought their right knee backwards as far as possible. As the man began to fight the twisted angle y/‘ had him at, y/n swung their knee forward. Their knee crashed into the man’s pelvis, sending the man towards the floor.
Y/n tightened one hand around the man’s neck to restrict his breathing. As they went limit, y/n’s other hand pulled harder on the collar and flung the man over their shoulder, breathing heavily from the exertion.
They spared the man one look, taking note of the fact he was now unconscious in a pile of broken wood from the splintered table nearby. When y/n turned their gaze back to Wylan, they noticed the man who had been forcing Wylan to kneel was now charging at them. Confused, they glanced and saw the man had seemingly punched Wylan in the gut before shoving him aside to get to y/n.
Y/n clenched their jaw, glaring at the man headed their way. From the corner of their eyes, they could see Wylan struggling to stand up; having had the wind knocked out of him. This only fueled y/n’s anger and over protective mode.
Y/n lost it as Wylan coughed as he pushed himself up. Y/n attacked the man, their fists and knees striking any and every point of the brawler they could reach. They’d taken a few hits as well, but weren’t fazed. Y/w/t was still inaccessible, but there was far more than enough anger fueling y/n to keep them fighting this fourth man. After one of y/n’s kicks knocked the man’s knees out from under him, they saw the way the man looked back at Wylan.
Wylan had managed to get back his feet and was now trying to head to y/n’s defense. The Dime Lion noticed this as well and suddenly turned on Wylan to keep him away.
Seeing the clear threat to Wylan, y/n dashed between them men. The harsh look y/n shot the man should’ve been warning enough. Yet, y/n loudly declared “Touch him, and you're dead." The man only seemed more driven to remove Wylan from the situation now. Fortunately, Y/n knew the labrtory like the back of her hand.
They kept their eyes focused on the target but knew without looking which area of the lab had Wylan’s most dangerous chemicals. Therefore, without looking away or making any signal as to what their next move would be, y/n sprinted past the man towards the table that would have containers marked with three or more exclamation points.
Y/n slid their sleeves down quickly, using the fabric to cover their hands. From there, they spun around and tossed them at their target. While y/n knew these were Wylan’s more dangerous substances, they didn’t know what would happen when the powdered and liquids mixed. They also knew there was a significant chance y/n themselves would be injured in the process. But as far as Y/n was concerned, it was worth it to keep the man away from Wylan.
Y/n smirked wickedly as the man dropped to the floor before reaching Wylan. He writhed in pain, a bubbling pattern spreading on his skin as he moaned loudly. Y/n ignored his cries and looked around for Wylan. He wasn’t in the spot y/n had last seen him.
Just as y/n spun around to look behind them, they came face to face with their boyfriend.
Wylan had a very stern and panicked look on his face as he grabbed y/n by the back of the neck, pulling them closer. “Don’t ever do that again” he said breathily, his eyes darting all over y/n’s face. Once he was sure y/n’s face wasn’t harmed by his harsh chemicals, he stepped back slightly to scan the rest of their body.
“You protect what you love” Yn argued, pulling Wylan in for a tight hug.
He instantly hugged them back, burying his neck in their shoulder as he steadied his breathing.
“I was so worried about you Wy” y/n confessed, tugging the soft material of his shirt to bring him even closer. They breathed in his familiar scent and closed their eyes as his curls tickled their neck. They couldn’t believe they almost lost this.
“I’m okay” Wylan promised despite the fact he likely would be bruised in the morning. That is if he didn’t also suffer a fractured rib. But it was nothing Nina couldn’t help heal.
“You weren’t supposed to get hurt” y/n scoffed. Their right hand moved up to brush against the small scratch Wylan had gotten above his left brow. They presumed it was during the scuffle with the four men who’d broke in prior to him being held at gunpoint. Regardless of what point during the fight it had occurred, y/n knew it wasn’t there earlier today.
“It’s a scratch” wylan argued in an attempt to soothe y/n’s nerves. He could see the look of guilt in their eyes and he wished he could do something to erase it. But, he knew the feeling all too well himself and knew nothing he said would change it. So, he opted for tenderly playing with their hair instead.
“It could’ve been worse,” y/n argued defiantly. “Saints, I thought it was!” They added, holding Wylan as tightly to their chest as they could. They felt bad as they worried he might not be able to breathe, or that it might reactivate the pain from the gut punch he received earlier. However, when he responded by sinking into their embrace even further, they pushed those fears aside.
As y/n let out a long sigh, Wylan frowned against their collarbone. “Y/n”, he whispered delicately, his hands still tangled in their hair.
“Don't ever leave my sight again." Y/n scolded firmly, leaning back to see his face as they said it.
Wylan gave then a sympathetic smile and nodded.
Y/n sighed again, this time contentedly. They crooked their head until they were in the same position as Wylan. Their nose brushed his neck as they snuggled him. With a tight hug, y/n added a clarifying condition to their earlier order, “ever”.
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Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @nikfigueiredo @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @winstonthecow22
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jazzythursday · 1 year ago
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Hallowed (915 words)
[cw for non-graphic mention of abuse]
The hallowed halls of the mansion were still as death, and Wylan walked through them as if already one of the ghosts. The pristine wallpaper made for a laurel leafed jungle of unknowable dangers, a cemetery of haunted memories. This home was a mausoleum, and yet Wylan could not rest.
It was as if, somewhere between Wylan turning sixteen and eighteen, his father had simply stopped bothering to even pretend to care. Meetings about even his tutoring became few, until none. Awful dinners with shareholders stopped being something he was even asked to go to. Where there had been cold hard slaps and harsh grips and vitriolic shouting and beatings followed by, I do this out of love—I treat you no more harshly than the world will, now there was just… nothing. Love had been factored out of the equation entirely, if ever it was there in the first place. His father went away on business—and recently, pleasure—more often and for longer and longer durations, and Wylan was left like so much disused furniture, like a forgotten and unswept grave.
He should be glad for being ignored, as it was certainly better than the alternative. But Wylan was, if nothing else, consistently foolish and reliably lonely.
They would be back today. Wylan had heard them come in sometime in the last hour, though he hadn’t come to greet them. Alys’ voice had a way of carrying through the air like a flock of birds in the breeze, and Wylan had not missed the barking of her terrier either. They’d been visiting Alys’ parents in the country, and Wylan had not been surprised to not have been invited.
This is important, Wylan, and I do not need you there to ruin such a delicate situation. I’m sure you understand.
Wylan had smiled, and said, of course, father. Had smiled and said, have a lovely trip. Had not been surprised when his father had sighed, and frowned, and smoothed back his hair before leaving without another word.
So, foolish and lonely and longing for more than he knew was fair to ask, he crept through the mansion, out of his room and down the stairs, until Alys’ voice grew louder and brighter in pitch as he reached the sitting room. He didn’t dare to go in yet, but he peeked around the corner to see Alys and his father sitting on one of the plush couches with a tray of tea and cakes made up on the table. Alys was petting her terrier in her lap and chirping happily as his father listened with a soft smile on his face.
It was that smile, and the hand he placed around her shoulders, the way he smoothed her hair back and let out an honest to Ghezen laugh, that perturbed Wylan the most. It was strange and it was ill-suited to the perpetually sour expression he was so used to, and Wylan still did not know what to make of it.
Suddenly, the terrier perked, lifted its head to stare straight at him, and Wylan did not have time enough to panic before the dog started to bark.
“Wylan!” Alys called, spotting him and waving him over. Wylan coughed awkwardly, smoothed his sweaty hands over his trousers, and resigned himself to whatever came of entering the room.
“Good to see you! We missed you at my parents. So sad to hear you were too busy to join us,” Alys cooed.
“You as well, um—yes, I’m—sorry to have missed it,” Wylan said tensely. He was as sorry as he was busy, which was to say not at all, but Alys was simple and silly and Wylan had resolved himself to accepting her guilelessness for her sake, if not his father’s. Finally, he turned. “Hello father, was—was it a nice trip?”
“It was profitable,” Jan replied coolly, and said nothing else to Wylan. Don’t stutter, it’s unbecoming of our name, he might’ve snapped, once, with a raised palm aimed at Wylan and enough force to bruise. But it seemed he’d accepted Wylan as being unbecoming of their name too long ago to bother.
It was an exceptionally Kerch answer, thought Wylan. Profitable, like a trip to the country with one's partner was a sales negotiation or a dividend report.
It was as he broke his father’s gaze and searched desperately for somewhere else to look, that Wylan realised exactly how profitable the trip was.
The diamond ring Alys wore was bright as a shining star, a veritable rock. It stared at Wylan as Alys continued petting her terrier like a siren of light. And perhaps the trip was more akin to a sales negotiation or a dividend report.
Wylan opened his mouth, unsure of what was about to come out of it. Congratulations, surely? Although he didn’t get the chance to find out. His father cleared his throat. “Don’t you have something to be getting on with, Wylan? That infernal music you like so much, or all those studies I keep paying so much for, hm?” He said it in a way that made it clear it was not a question so much as an order to leave.
Wylan nodded, feeling odd and empty but not surprised. “Yes, sir.”
It was spring in Ketterdam now, but his father’s glare was like ice. The harsh, biting cold of an unforgiving winter, and Wylan fought not to shiver. He left the room and wished, not for the first time, that he could disappear.
no I’m not thinking too much about the possibility of show!Wylan living in the mansion for years longer than in the books before meeting the crows. Why do you ask?
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lesbianjackies · 2 years ago
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🎻wylan van eck masterlist🎻
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key: ❤︎︎ - fluff, ☁︎︎ - angst, ★ - smut
coming soon!
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amm-amethyst · 1 year ago
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Hurry I'm Drowning
Characters: Wylan Van Eck, Miggson, Prior
Description:
Wylan had very conflicted feelings about being sent away to a music school in Belent, but he was excited about the new life he could make for himself.
Unfortunately, his father had other plans.
Or: How Wylan got to the Barrel
Whumptober day 14
Prompt: Water Inhalation
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833111
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ravenyenn19 · 6 months ago
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Kaz: Alright, so now that the plan is in motion, let’s move.
The other Crows, having no idea what plan is in motion nor where Kaz has been the last 24 full hours:
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(under his breath)
kaz: no. no, you may not.
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diangelosdays · 2 years ago
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i may be a little obsessed with wesper
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happyyyandcrazyyy · 2 days ago
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love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)
summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.
or
it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.
or
“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”
warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion
kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)
a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!
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i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.
Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.
It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.
ii. you break, i mend.
Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.
The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.
Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.
He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.
‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.
Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.
He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.
The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.
(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.
“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.
Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.
“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.
(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.
By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”
The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.
(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.
“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”
Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.
Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.
It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.
Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.
“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.
The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.
“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.
Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.
“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.
“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”
She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.
“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.
“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.
Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”
Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.
Saints.
It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.
The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.
“Are you with me?”
No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.
It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.
“None of that.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“I know. It’s okay.”
The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.
“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.
“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”
“I know.”
A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”
Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.
It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.
“If you break, I mend, remember?”
(mend
BREAK)
Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.
Saints be damned.
Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.
iii. a raven and a crow
The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.
He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.
It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.
“Inej?”
“Good.”
Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.
“Jes?”
“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.
He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.
The goods are safe.
“Nina?”
“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.
There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…
His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.
Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.
And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.
(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.
And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.
There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.
Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.
Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.
“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.
For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.
She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”
Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)
“You’ve got it?”
“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”
His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.
“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.
Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.
(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.
“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.
Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.
“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”
“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.
“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”
(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”
He pouts.
“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”
He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”
Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.
“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.
It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.
He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”
It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.
“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.
“A raven?”
“Yeah.”
Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.
Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”
Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.
And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.
(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”
Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.
“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.
Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.
(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”
Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.
She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”
(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.
“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”
“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.
“You know it’s true.”
He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.
Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”
And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.
Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.
“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”
The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.
“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.
(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.
“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”
Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.
“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.
“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.
(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”
It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.
The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.
R.
A Raven.
No fucking way.
He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.
Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.
(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)
iv. a broken lock and a key
Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)
(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.
After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.
He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.
Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.
On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.
So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.
It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.
Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.
“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”
(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”
And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.
He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.
She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.
“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.
He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”
“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.
“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.
“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.
“You’re gonna keep me company?”
Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”
She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.
It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.
Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”
(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.
“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.
“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.
There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.
She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”
He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”
“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.
And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”
He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.
To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”
His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.
“What?”
There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.
“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.
Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.
v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.
As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.
“Did you finally figure it out?”
He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.
“What?”
She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.
“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”
Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”
“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”
“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”
“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”
Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?
“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”
He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.
“Yeah.”
“Actually?”
She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.
“Got the documents to prove it, too.”
Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”
“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."
Jesper understands.
He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.
Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.
“Lovers, huh?”
(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.
“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”
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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years ago
Text
Touching [K. B.]
Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
word count: 4k
summary: you and Kaz share physical contact for the first time
warnings: established relationship, trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej, and I don't even know where the hell this is located in canon (just imagine that the problem at the end of the series never happened) oh and Imogen's name appears in books according to google
taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas
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Kaz Brekker could swear that he would faint at any moment as he climbed the stairs to his room, the cane in his left hand being the only impediment for this to happen. That day he had to leave the Slat to attend to some business that was complicated by the march and resulted in a physical altercation. Fortunately he hadn't been hurt, but he couldn't say the same for the other men.
Before opening the door, he let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, mentally reviewing the pending documents that he would surely have to review the next day, but when he entered the room, his entire train of thoughts was overwhelmed by a presence in the place.
It was you, who was sitting in his desk chair with a book in your hands, from which you looked up when you heard that he had entered. You were already wearing a faded nightgown to sleep in and your features showed tiredness, but also calm.
"Hi," you said straightening up. Kaz felt your mere presence light up the entire room and his shoulders relaxed as you spoke.
"Hello" he replied with a hint of a smile. Without saying anything he went ahead until he reached the bed and you followed him with your eyes, turning in the chair to face him.
“Is it okay if I stay here? I'm sorry I didn't ask you before”
"It’s okay" he replied quietly.
It had been a couple of months since you and Kaz had decided… how shall I put it? Try to have a relationship. You had always been firm in the idea of conquering Kaz Brekker, even with his bad reputation and his difficult nature, since you joined the crows, a few years ago. He never understood why you did it, even feeling suffocated by your attentions, but over time (and after a lot of effort) he began to feel affection for you and eventually he came as close as he could feel to love. He began to care for you, to enjoy your company, and to feel nervous whenever he looked at you, which Nina helped him interpret as a crush.
You trusted that, despite his short temper, Kaz had a good heart and he had shown that more than once. You had never received mistreatment from him (beyond his typical responses towards others), he defended all the members of your group tooth and nail and he was firm in his ideals. Yes, of course he was a criminal, a gambler, and sometimes a murderer, but you knew that he was neither the only nor the worst in The Barrel. Besides, his motives were valid… most of the time.
So it was that a few months ago, during a drunken night, you two confessed your feelings. You were too cheerful to think about what you were saying and it was inevitable that the words slipped out of your mouth like water from a river. Kaz wasn't drunk enough to stop understanding what you were saying and you have a vague recollection that he just put you to sleep and didn't say anything. But hours later, when Jesper had personally taken it upon himself to push the black-haired man to his drinking limits, he burst into your room and only told you that he liked you too. Of course, in the morning the hangover was accompanied by guilt and when you sought him out to apologize, you were surprised that he hadn't felt offended and hadn't taken back his words either. You concluded that maybe the alcohol had given both of you the courage you needed and that was okay.
For a few days the matter remained like this, but then Kaz made an appointment with you in his office and steeling himself with courage, he told you about his interest in having something with you, but warning you that, considering all his characteristics, he was possibly not the best option and what should you look for someone better if you wanted it that way. But you wanted to try things and even more so if he had been the one who proposed it.
You were patient the whole time and gave Kaz the space he needed. Sometimes you just spent time in his office, in silence, and watching him work was satisfying enough. Little by little he allowed you to enter more spaces of his daily life and although you had kept the relationship private, suspicions arose one morning when you left his room and Nina, probably the gossipiest of your friends, saw you.
A couple of times you had held his hand over his gloves and once you had kissed his cheek, only because he was too asleep to notice. It was slow progress, but you could live with it.
Now you were trying to sleep together. You'd obviously replaced Kaz’s thin mattress with a larger one and figured out a way to make it work; between him and you, you placed a line of pillows so that you avoided physical contact. Simple but effective.
"How was it?"
“It could have been better”
"You should rest" you suggested, analyzing how bad he had been after the fight that he surely had. There were no visible bumps or scratches, thankfully.
"Yeah, I will" he replied very vaguely. You saw him look up a little at you and you wondered what he was looking for "What were you reading?"
“Huh, a book that Jesper won in a bet. It is the story of a warrior princess who has to defend her kingdom”
"Sounds nice" he exclaimed. There was the beginning of a smile gracing his face and you didn't think he was aware of it, but he'd been doing it for the past couple of weeks every time you talked to him about something. Every time you spoke, simply.
"It is," you said happily. Kaz had already made a mental note about your fascination with literature, and at the next heist he planned to keep a couple of books for you, if the opportunity arose.
You wanted to continue talking to him, but the truth was that you were only waiting for him to arrive to sleep and you were sure that, although he wouldn’t admit it, Kaz needed rest as much as you did. That's why you got up from the chair and before he said anything else you sat on the bed, next to him.
"I'm tired" you murmured, making a tiny pout and watching him with tender eyes. He was very handsome, you thought of that whenever you saw him.
"Lie back, while I organize some things"
"Come on, Kaz" you complained, b because you knew these activities could last hours and he deprived himself of sleep to finish them "Tomorrow you can do it, sleep with me" you insisted, stretching out your hand until you reached his. He was wearing the gloves and your fingers slipped under his, only taking the tips around your hand.
Both of your gazes landed there, you wondering what it would feel like to hold Kaz’s hand without the leather in between and him admiring the difference in size between your hands and his. You had them damaged around the nails and the skin marked with a few moles, but for him they were perfect. When you started to move your thumb from side to side he looked up, noticing that his eyelids were already weighing you down, and he sighed. For some time now he hasn't been able to say no to anything you ask of him, much less when you look so delicate and hold his hand.
"Okay, go to sleep then"
You suppressed a smile, without much success, and watched him remove several layers of clothing to only be left with his shirt and pants. You had never seen him naked, and you doubted very much that you would soon, but you liked the lightness that appeared in him when he was left with few clothes. As if by taking them off he was also abandoning all the problems that he accumulated during the day.
You carefully slid to your side of the bed, against the wall, and made sure the pillow divider was in place. He kept you company moments after turning off the lamp.
"Good night," you said kindly. Whenever you stayed there you wanted to tell him that you loved him before going to bed, but the intention never materialized. The first few times Kaz was very tense and hardly slept, although by this point he had gotten used to it and he was handling it well; even he would say that he rested more knowing that you kept him company.
"Sweet dreams," he said, with a gentle tone that took you by surprise. You were internally grateful that the room was dark or he would have seen your flushed face.
It didn't take long for you to give up, but Kaz, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't fall asleep. Although having you by his side had relaxed him a lot, for a couple of days there was a matter interrupting his thoughts and it was related to the dreams that had come to replace his habitual nightmares.
In all of them you were the protagonist and he... touched you. In every possible way and every sense of the word, as if it were something natural that didn’t take any effort. At first he was terrified of how real the dreams felt, almost swearing that the night before he had passionately kissed you only to realize that you were still on the other side of that fence of pillows you had placed for his comfort. Kaz had wanted to ignore all of this, but each time these thoughts became more frequent and stronger: What would it feel like to hug you? And accommodate your hair? Would he be able to caress you as he knew you wanted and deserved?
The black-haired man could be evil at times and he seemed unaffected by anything, but the insecurities and fears inside him were bigger than anyone could imagine. Even the day you confessed to him that you liked him, he feared that you were lying or that it was just drunken incoherence.
So now that a few months had passed he felt he had to offer you at least some physical contact or else you'd end up getting bored of him like Imogen once had. But that was another story.
Kaz was startled when he heard you complain and looked silently in your direction, but it turned out that you weren't awake, you had only changed position. From that angle he could see the whole silhouette of your body and part of your face, even more peaceful when you were asleep, everything so beautiful that he wondered how you could be real and especially because you were sharing a room with a person like him. 
His hands didn't have gloves on and even though they had been at his sides the whole time, he felt the urge to move them away. He wondered what it would feel like to touch your skin or if he would actually be able to do it without panicking and as the desire was greater than the fear, without giving it much thought he reached out his arm towards you, preparing to touch your bare forearm. He breathed once, then twice, and finally, he did.
He had to remind himself that your skin wasn’t that of some wet corpse and for this he concentrated on how it really felt; it was warm and soft. His hand trembled on your body and he feared to wake you, but even with this he didn't move away. He didn't know how long it was before he was able to breathe normally, but once he did he waved his hand a couple of times and if you had been awake you would have been amazed at the gentleness with which he did it.
Kaz pulled away a few seconds later, seized with the sudden strange feeling that he couldn't leave him so easily, and with an angry huff he jumped up to wash his hands. He wanted to change and improve for you, but it was complicated and it frustrated him.
Either way, he was thankful that you hadn't seen his experiment and concluded that it was better, so he could move at his own pace. When he lay down again he kept looking at you, taking the opportunity to reflect on the matter, until his body couldn't take it anymore and the unconsciousness of the dream ended up consuming him completely.
And of course, he dreamed of you again.
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The days passed as normal and life at The Barrel continued as usual. The crow club was in full swing after the renovations Kaz had done, almost a year ago now, and there was more work than ever. Jesper and Wylan always went everywhere together and the girls at The Menagerie were great with attention, but it still seemed like it was never enough. Nina and Matthias weren't very active members and Inej's visits weren't as frequent now that she led a life at sea. You were in charge of supervising several of the things, on behalf of your boyfriend, and sometimes you also served drinks. The club had gone from being the favorite place for seedy drunkards to a refined place where more and more people came to gamble and have fun. Of course more visits meant more money and you knew that made the owner happy, but it also loaded him with work.
"Knock, knock," you said happily, as you peeked out of his office door, tray in hand. Kaz raised his head from the papers with the accounts he was reviewing and met you "I brought you dinner"
"Dinner?"
“Yes, it is one of the three meals of the day. It's important and you always forget about it" you explained, placing a plate in front of him that contained some cookies, and bread and leaving a cup of coffee without sugar next to it "I didn't know what you might be craving, so I brought something light"
“Thank you,” he said as he watched you drop into an adjoining chair, your own mug of hot chocolate in hand.
"How is everything going?"
"Okay, I'm still missing a couple of things"
"Do you want me to go?"
"No" he replied. How could you think of that? Of course he wanted you there.
During these weeks you had noticed Kaz a little strange, as if he was suddenly more condescending or permissive with you, but you enjoyed these changes. You couldn't know it, but he had been running little experiments like the one he did when you were sleeping. When you were interrupting the path he needed to travel, he would move you to the side at the waist, when you sat next to each other at crow meetings, he would link his knee to yours, and you caught him picking some rubbish out of your hair more than once. So you, too, had begun looking for more intimate ways to engage with him, like taking him out to dinner after a tiring day, curious as to how far he would let you go.
You made small talk about trivial matters and took the opportunity to make sure he consumed some of what you brought him, which he did with pleasure.
When you finished Kaz went back to his work and you decided that it was better to occupy yourself with something else, preferably quietly so as not to interrupt him. Your visits to his study were almost always like this, so you already had some things for your entertainment in a drawer. You pulled out a puzzle that you and Inej used to put together all the time and spread it out on the floor, sitting in a lotus position in front of it, willing to be at it for a while.
But on that particular day he couldn't focus on anything but you. Out of the corner of his eye, he would catch a glimpse of your attentive frown and your hands tapping the floor impatiently for not finding the right pieces, finding both quite adorable.
All day he had been seriously thinking about making a risky move and now that the opportunity presented itself he felt more nervous than he had imagined, so he kept silent for a long time where you didn't even notice the crisis internal he was having.
"Kiss me"
The words were spoken so quietly and hastily that you feared you had hallucinated them and your neck might have snapped from the quickness with which you looked up at him.
"Did you say something?"
"Kiss me" he repeated, loud and clear so that this time there would be no doubt of what he was saying. You felt that your heart was going to jump out of your chest due to the astonishment that such a sudden request produced in you. Kaz was asking you for a kiss? Impossible.
You were stunned for a few seconds, looking directly into those sky-colored eyes that were waiting for an answer. What kind of kiss was he asking you? It was like a kiss on his cheek or… on his lips perhaps? Why was he asking you that in the first place? And why had he thrown it at you just like that?
"If you don't want to, that's fine," he added, with a disappointed tone, and you jumped to your feet as soon as you heard that.
"No, no. I was just... surprised, that's all" you explained, completely nervous, because you didn't want him to regret it.
You walked up to face him and the height difference forced Kaz to look down at you with doe eyes you never imagined he could have and didn't even know he was aware of. He felt slightly intimidated, more by the situation itself than by you, and one of his hands went directly to hold the wood of the chair to try to calm down.
You took a deep breath and looked closely at the black-haired man's face, thinking about which part of his face would be more suitable for kissing; the skin on his cheeks? His forehead? Or go once and for all for those thin pink lips?
When you crouched down he held his breath and you saw him tense when you got closer to his face, but you still continued because you knew he would mark the limit, if there was one. You closed your eyes and finally closed the distance, pressing your lips against his for just a second. Your stomach turned and when you straightened up your cheeks were flushed crimson, but it worried you that Kaz hadn't flinched. You would even say that he seemed to be angry.
"Give me a proper kiss"
You felt your legs shake and you thought you were going to faint right there after hearing him. He wasn't even asking, he was demanding it. Kaz was practically yelling at you that he was going to settle for the simple lip brush you just gave him, he wanted more.
You were a mess at the thought of him wanting to take such a big step, but you tried your best to hold it back and nodded softly at him. A proper kiss would require more than just you standing in front of him, so you sat on Kaz’s lap, who nearly squealed in surprise.
"If you want to stop, just say so" you warned him. But you had already gone too far, he didn't want to stop and of course you didn't either.
Your feet dangled over the side of the chair and you made yourself more comfortable resting your hands on his clothed shoulders, hoping that with that separation of cloth Kaz would feel less uncomfortable, until your face was right in front of his.
There was so much fear in his eyes that you wanted to walk away, but you knew that with that you would spoil all the effort he was making and you feared that he would be offended to the point of not wanting to kiss you anymore.
You would be lying when you said that you didn’t want it, that you didn’t long for to finally be able to know what his kisses would taste like and thus be able to alleviate the knot in your stomach that you had since that party night when you confessed your love, so without more or less you leaned a little and then you kissed him.
At first it was a mere assumption, but when you felt how tense he was you knew that he had never kissed anyone in his life. You could feel his panic through the trembling sighs that escaped him, but you didn't give up for a second from your task.
"Relax your lips" you said, separating yourself enough centimeters to be able to articulate the words "And the shoulders too" you continued, stroking that section with both hands to help it a little "Just focus on how it feels"
Your whispers sounded like spells to him as if they were instructions to follow to achieve the happiness he so wanted and didn't know how to obtain.
You tried again and since he followed your advice the contact was more fluid. Suddenly all negative feelings were replaced by the pleasure of savoring your lips, still with the flavor of the impregnated chocolate, and of feeling your warm body so close to his. There were no traumatic memories because he had never kissed anyone before Jordie’s death, nor since. It was something new, different, and it was also unique because it was you who was there.
He began to pay more attention to details and enjoyed the way your lips caught one of his, so subtly that he could barely identify it, or how your hands had already gone up to his neck to hold it. Kaz’s gloved hands moved almost by themselves to your waist and it was your turn to hold your breath, probably under the impression that he had done something like that.
You cut off the kiss, but then another followed, and when that one ended another came. Suddenly everyone was down to you and Kaz having a little make-out session in his office, a moment he never wanted to end. Maybe it was the sensation of trying something forbidden, but you felt that the man's kisses had the most intoxicating flavor on the entire planet, as if everything you had ever enjoyed was nothing compared to that. And he couldn't do anything more than practically melt under your caresses and let you do whatever you wanted with him.
For some reason Kaz was finally overwhelmed by the contact, but instead of throwing you out of there he pulled you away with his grip on your waist, calm and gentle.
"It’s enough" he whispered. It wasn't because he wasn't enjoying it, but because he knew better than anyone that you couldn't give yourself completely to life’s pleasures or they would end up consuming you from the roots.
He didn't want to open his eyes for fear that it was all another one of those dreams and also to somehow extend the sensation as much as possible, but you didn't want to do anything but look at him. He was breathing heavily and the usual paleness of his skin had been replaced by a vermilion hue and to your surprise his hands hadn't left the position they were in, which you took as a sign that he still wanted you sitting on his legs.
“Are… are you okay?” you asked cautiously, knowing that closed eyes and heavy breathing were also symptoms of a panic attack that you definitely didn't want to happen.
"No” you barely had time to worry and think about what you could do before you heard a soft laugh. Kaz Brekker was laughing “Oh my gosh of course I'm not okay. You're driving me completely crazy” he responded and managed to make the phrase sound like a claim and a compliment at the same time.
"Was it that bad?"
"It was perfect. You are” he confessed and you exhaled a nervous laugh, feeling as foolish as a girl in love. Both of your hands were planted on his chest, so you started to play with a button on his shirt to try to calm your emotions.
“I'm glad you… huh, that we could share this. I really wanted to kiss you” you dared to tell him.
Although he was apparently calm, the truth was that he was having a hard time not separating from you, but the only reason he hadn't was because of the loving and happy expression that was on your face, which probably, to a lesser extent, he also had.
"Me too" he assured you, with that little smile you had already begun to love.
And that kiss represented the beginning of a path that Kaz was willing to walk, as difficult as it was, only for the promise that at the end of the day it would all be worth it if you were the one waiting for him. 
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fxxx-off-watson · 3 months ago
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I have this whole head cannon in my head where Kaz’s mom was a merchants daughter who was disowned for falling in love with a farmer. Her best friend was Marya Hendriks who married her younger brother Jan. After she was disowned Jan pretended she never existed and forced Marya to do the same.
This is where it becomes fully fanfic territory. When Marya was hospitalized she entirely forgot her old best friend, who was brave enough to fight for love over money/comfort. Wylan brings her back to the Van Eck estate and she begins to remember her old life. She meets one of her sons best friends one day and suddenly the memories unlock, could be his eyes or his smile or even better his scheming face. But suddenly she finds her best friend and discovers she’s dead and how much her children suffered. Bonus points if she finds letters Mrs. Rietveld wrote about her life and children.
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moonstruck-poet · 1 year ago
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His Love Language
Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader!
Summary - This fic depicts Kaz and the subtle ways in which he shows his love.
Warnings - curse words, injury, wounds, blood, fight.
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Kaz Brekker noticed everything. Whether it be someone cheating in a game of cards, enemies tailing him during his walk, or even his crows being unlike their usual selves.
Because he always paid more attention to what a person is doing than what they're saying. Talk may thrill, but action reveals.
He had an eye for taking in the details. It was both terrifying and beautiful.
Terrifying for his rivals of course. He knew exactly what to pull off and how to pull it off for them to go insane.
And beautiful for his love, his one and only. Him having such a knack for remembering the littlest of things helped him immensely in his relationship with you.
Not many people noticed it before, not even you yourself. But as time passed, you learned that his love language were actions. Not physical touches, words of affirmations, gifts and presents. No.
But it was all about those small acts showcased by him that made you fall deeper for the bastard of the barrel. Your heart now always took notice whenever he did the most mundane things for you. It immediately took up its pace and reminded you of the exact reason why it still kept on beating.
Your fellow crows took a hell of time to gather just how deep the love of Kaz Brekker was. But once they did, saints were they both shocked and ecstatic.
All of them had their own doubts when they came to know of your relationship. Nobody was a stranger to the fact that both of you were extremely closed off people. Not opening more than what was necessary, and in the case of Kaz, not opening up at all.
But one look at the way you two understood each other without even having to express, made them believe that you two would make each other happy.
===============================
Dirtyhands had struck another deal with a man named Arken Viking. The plan seemed quite simple, understandable even when it was explained.
And naturally everybody was feeling good knowing that they had a hundred percent chance of survival as it wasn't a difficult mission by any means. It just had a lot of steps that needed to be followed and so all seven of them were heavily involved.
Jesper, Wylan, Kaz and Matthias were waiting for the other girls to arrive. It was the final task of the day and they would then carry on again tomorrow.
Jesper was the one to pace around, unable to sit still in one place. He hated waiting more than anything else. Ask him to put up some money for a gamble? It would be done without wasting a second. Task him with shooting something impossibly far away? He'd have it completed before you could say shoot. But staying put in one place, he couldn't do it.
It was only for Wylan engaging with him that he even sat for ten minutes.
"Where did they go?" He grumbled and finally got up, stretching his legs and walking to stand near the two men who stared ahead, their expressions tight.
"They're late," Matthias muttered, trying his best to hide the worry he felt for a specific one but it was useless, all of them knew about his feelings but him.
"It'll be fine, they'll be here soon," Wylan said, standing next to Jesper and blushing very slightly when the tall boy leaned his shoulder against his and let out a sigh.
"You're sure that there's no danger right, Kaz?" Jesper asked and looked at his boss who didn't look away. His eyes firmly set on the road in front of them.
"Yes," he spoke, sure of himself. But there was this slight, very tiny nagging in the back of his mind that something had gone terribly wrong and he clenched his jaw.
But all of their worries dissipated at seeing the silhouette of three women walking towards them.
Matthias let out a sigh of relief once he saw Nina's bright face, him sending a quick prayer to Djel for looking over the three.
Kaz felt himself lighten instantly, his previously tensed posture relaxed as he saw you looking positively unscathed. His eyes found yours instantly and you sent him a smile, while quickly closing the distance between you two.
"You're late," was all he said, his eyes sweeping over everyone before landing on your figure which was leaning against the wall, right next to him.
"Let us live a little, Brekker," Nina rolled her eyes while Inej shook her head, though she too smirked.
"We were worried," Wylan was the one to speak that was on the tip of everybody's tongue.
"All of you?" She said with a raised eyebrow, looking pointedly at Kaz who merely glared at her sharply.
"Obviously!" Jesper exclaimed. "Now that you're all here, we can finally get some well deserved rest. Kaz let's take a room somewhere, yeah?"
"We can't," he said, turning his eyes away from you, rather unwillingly actually.
"What do you mean we can't?"
"Use your eyes, Jes," Inej said with a teasing smile. "Do you see any shops, hotels or anything nearby?"
"Then where the hell are we sleeping?" Nina said with a incredulous look. "I am not going to lie down in the middle of the street!"
Jesper too looked alarmed at the prospect and whipped his head around to stare at their leader.
"You think I'd let everyone sleep on the roads?"
"Can't put anything past you at this point," she grumbled and you laughed making Kaz give you a disbelieving expression.
"There's a warehouse ten minutes from here, we'll stay there for the night".
All of them groaned loudly at the thought of walking once again but soon started their small journey. And once they had reached the place, Jesper quite literally threw open the doors and scanned the area.
"Clean enough," he shrugged and laid the small blankets they had brought onto the floor. "Good night then," he waved lazily and Wylan followed his lead but not before gazing fondly at him for a few seconds.
"You failed to mention this in you plan, Kaz," Nina shot him a look and dragged her belongings to the corner of the room, accompanied by Inej and Matthias.
"Let's sleep, shall we?" You said softly and he nodded, taking off his coat while you arranged the sheets and removed your shoes, sighing at finally being able to rest.
He laid down himself, his body close to yours so your arms brushed a little. "You're okay, aren't you?"
"I'm all good," you turned your head to face him, taking in his features that you so loved. From his dark brown eyes that softened at your reply to his hands placed in front of him, the pale skin shining under the minimum lighting present.
He gave a curt nod and scanned your face once before closing his eyes, depriving himself of your addictive beauty.
"Night," you whispered and turned on your side, one hand under your head for support and the other lying in front. He didn't reply but instead reach ahead to brush his thumb against your forearm and interlocking your little fingers together.
You smiled, him being the last thought in your mind before sleep overtook you.
The rest of the night passed in peace before it was time for the sunrise. Naturally Kaz, Inej and Matthias were the first ones to wake. The rest were all sleeping soundly and soft breaths echoed in the room.
Kaz was looking over the layout of the building once again, making sure that everything would go on without any problems or worries when suddenly your knee brushed against his.
He stiffened at the contact for a second before turning around to see you pulling your legs up to your chest and curling into a ball. He immediately spotted the goosebumps that littered your arms and an unnoticeable shiver pass through you.
His eyes searched for a spare blanket somewhere but found none as all were used as mattresses for everybody to lay on. A small frown marked his lips as his mind raced and landed on a conclusion.
He took his coat that he had used as a pillow and dusted it before gently putting it over your body. Your curled figure made it easier and he adjusted it, making sure the warm jacket covered you completely.
You involuntarily grabbed the collar, your eyes still shut and cuddled into it.
While he felt himself ease up with satisfaction and he shot you one last look, unable to keep the fondness away from his gaze and returned to check the papers.
Matthias who had been watching the unspoken exchange felt his insides warming up at seeing the cold and distant demeanour of Kaz Brekker melting a little for you.
===============================
Predictably, the heist was successful and no one had expected anything less. In fact, it had gone a little more than satisfactory. They had no troubles waiting for them inside the building and no distractions outside too.
So to conclude, everybody was high on the fact that they had managed to pull it off with such stealth.
They were all given their paychecks when they returned back home.
"Saints," Jesper sighed and lovingly twirled the kruge in his fingers while Wylan unknown to anyone else but you shot tiny daggers at those pieces of money.
You hid your smirk, keeping the check in your pocket and walked over to your friend, "I understand, Wy," you patted his shoulder sympathetically while he became red.
"What do you understand?" He asked hurriedly and avoided eye contact.
"Oh come on," you chuckled. "I know about your not so little feelings. You fancy him, don't you?"
"No I don't," he mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe just a little," he added as an afterthought.
You just brought him in a comforting side hug, quite endeared by the boy and ruffled his already wild hair. "I hate to say it, but he's more oblivious than anyone".
"I know," he groaned in exasperation, resting his head on your shoulder as you were considerably taller than him.
"Planning to steal her from Brekker?" Nina's playful words broke their conversation making the others laugh.
"Who's stealing what from me?" The man himself entered, as usual being perfect in his timing of showing up at the most unnecessary of times.
Wylan immediately removed your arm from his shoulder but Kaz being himself obviously glimpsed it. His expression did not betray anything, it was carefully kept stoic and calm. But he couldn't fool you, there was a reason why he'd let you walk fearlessly into his locked up heart.
His eyes seemed sullen for just a fraction of second. He wasn't reacting on the joke, of course not. He was now used to the crows trying to make him jealous. But rather the thing that had made him feel lost, was touch.
His inability to provide you with every bit of himself was killing him inside. For heaven's sake he couldn't even bear to embrace you without feeling as though he were on the edge and one small step would make him fall deeper into the oceans.
He swallowed and averted his gaze making you stare at him even more, trying to figure out what was bothering him.
You got up from your place and went over to sit in a chair beside him, keeping the distance because you weren't sure if he was okay with the proximity or not. But then he himself shifted his chair, and your legs brushed making him pull away quickly.
"Kaz," you said worriedly, moving back a little. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he lied and you frowned. He knew very well that you could tell he was being untruthful.
He willed his mind to focus on you rather than his surroundings and took your hand in his, taking a deep breath despite the barrier of his glove.
But it wasn't enough, he felt the strange need to be even closer to you despite his brain screaming in denial. And for the second time in his life, he decided to go with his heart and looked you in the eyes, noticing your evident concern as you approached him cautiously.
He gave his surroundings a quick scan. It was only the seven of them and they were all minding their own business. He made a split decision and started taking the glove off of his right hand.
You didn't say anything, finally understanding that he needed your touch and you were more than happy to provide.
He stopped in his tracks after pulling it off, staring at his pale, vulnerable hand.
"It's okay," you whispered softly, fighting the urge to lean over yourself. "I'm here. It's just you and me. You can do this".
He looked unsure but slowly extended it towards you. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before, he had, but it had been quite a long time ago.
He gently brushed his fingertips over your palm and relaxed when no waters rose. He nudged his little finger with yours and looked up to see you before locking them.
Your face held a small, adoring smile. It was so simple, yet so complex. You squeezed gently once and he returned it instantly making you laugh softly.
He felt strange in a good way, as if he had accomplished everything he wanted when he had only heard the sound of your laughter.
"Okay you two stop your gossiping, it's dinner time," Jesper broke the moment and was rewarded with a threatening glare. He just grinned in return when his eyes fell on a hand, Kaz's hand to be specific and his mouth hung open slightly.
"Never seen a hand before?" Kaz raised an eyebrow and swiftly pulled on the glove.
He looked away, his mind still trying to figure it out as he grabbed the plates.
You stood up from your seat much to Kaz's displeasure who shot a heartbroken look your way that you missed. But Jesper caught on as he was sitting right opposite.
He'd never thought that he would live to see the day when Dirtyhands would look sad like a lovesick puppy. He was debating with himself whether he even saw it happening because the look was gone in less than a second, replaced by his usual dark gaze.
But he was cut off from his thoughts when you smiled at him, keeping a plate of food on the table. "Enjoy".
"Yeah, 'course love".
All of them were now sitting at the table for the first time in months. They just never seemed to have a time fixed that would match everyone's schedule. And for most part, they were all lazy as well.
You were sitting at the corner of the table with Nina at the opposite side, her having every bit of your attention at the moment as she chatted away happily much to the disappointment of the man sitting to your right.
"The cake is great, Nina," Inej complimented her and she gave her a wink in return.
"It is nice," Matthias agreed making the said chef blush despite her smirk.
"Yeah I love it," Wylan smiled brightly.
"Oh damn," you winced as the spoon fell down with a loud clatter, breaking the conversation for a bit before it resumed again.
Inej watched you with amusement, laughing at your resigned expression when you bent down to retrieve it with a sigh. But then her eyes widened in surprise.
Kaz Brekker, the most ruthless man she'd ever met was maybe not that uncaring. She merely watched as his hand went to cover the sharp corner of the table as if it was an everyday occurence.
And you got up, putting the spoon away to take a new one when you stopped mid-action to see a gloved hand had been placed inches above your head that would have definitely rubbed against the edge.
At the moment all that existed for you was the person sitting right next to you. You stared at him blankly, planting holes on the side of his face.
He, sensing it turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as though to ask, 'What?'
But you just shook your head and offered him a small smile and you swore you saw his lip twitch slightly.
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"Ready Inej?" You asked, as softly as you could muster though you were shaking inside, knowing that you two only had one shot at this.
"All ready," she whisperer back and crouched down slightly, preparing to jump.
A gunshot was heard and the guard was successfully distracted by the sound giving Inej some time to slip in between the shadows and enter the room.
You had no choice than to shoot a bullet and now they were all alarmed which would make escaping very difficult.
Your eyes squinted in the darkness as you surveyed the room, hoping no one caught a glimpse of you and praying to whichever Saint there was for Inej to finish her job.
"Come on," you muttered to yourself, your legs shaking with anticipation as it had easily been ten minutes since she had disappeared. "Where the hell are you?"
Just then you spotted some movement going on further to your left and loaded your gun while also keeping one hand on the scabbard tied around your waist. Your footsteps were barely heard as they travelled softly on the wooden floor.
Someone had definitely seen you and were on a hunt, all you could do was make sure to stay hidden perfectly. The darkness was surely an ally but an enemy too.
A loud thud was the only warning you had before someone knocked the air out of your lungs making you skid backwards. You gasped, hands pressed to your chest while taking in deep breaths and moving away from the man, buying yourself time. It didn't feel like your ribs had broken but it hurt nonetheless.
You wracked your brain for a sign of another presence but it was only him. "Viking," you growled in anger after he stepped into the light. "I should've known".
He simply chuckled darkly, "You didn't though. Even Brekker failed. So I think I did my work to perfection, yeah?"
"Who else have you got?"
"No one!" He said, sounding strangely happy and you believed him to be a psychopath. "But the same can't be said for you, am I right?"
But you just shrugged, knowing if you spoke he'd be able to distinguish because of your voice. You should think about asking Kaz to teach you how he managed to always control his tone perfectly. But that would only be possible if you got out of here alive.
Not saying another word you charged, knowing using a gun would prove to be dangerous for you if he snatched it from you. Unfortunately, one of your downfalls was thag you didn't have much of a strong grip. And so you took two knifes and attacked him from both sides.
He took on a few cuts, some going deep and you were scarred too. A small one painted your cheekbone, one on the side of your neck and some on your arms.
You fought for quite a time, both being bloody with sweat dripping off your bodies. It was only when you pretended to hit him from your left and he fell for the basic trick, blocking your attack and in turn giving you easy access to wedge your knife straight into his abdomen. You shot him too for safety measures and double checking.
"Motherfucker," you heaved a sigh, wincing after feeling the burn of the cuts littering you and the stickiness of blood. "Fucking finally!" You exclaimed when your friend came into view, panting slightly and you knew she had gotten into a fight as well.
"Atleast we're matching," she said with a smile and pointed at the similar scars on your forearms.
"Yeah sure," you laughed and quickly moved out, not wanting to personally invite trouble.
The journey back the the Slat was a peaceful one, as it always was with Inej. You talked about Arken's betrayal, the documents she'd found and copied and some amounts of kruge that was just lying on the desk.
"Well despite everything, atleast we got it done," you grimaced slightly and opened the door, immediately walking over to the bar to get yourself a shot atleast. You needed the liquor desperately.
"Oh you're h- Saints!" Wylan sputtered, taking in the bloody sight when you turned. "You're drinking whiskey?!"
"Wy," you said, trying to explain before you faced his wrath. "I needed it".
"Like hell you did," he shook his head and called Nina so urgently that anyone would think you were dying.
"Don't- Wylan-" you cut yourself off after seeing his glare.
"Calm your potions, she's not dying" Nina Zenik said after one glance at your figure lounging in the chair.
"But she's injured!"
"Injury and death don't mean the same thing! And she looks alright to me except for a few cuts. Oh you and Inej have matching tattoos now," she said with a laugh.
"Jesper!" You summoned your gunslinger and he appeared right before you. "Take your man away or I'm going to actually die".
The boy got out of his haze of sering you all bruised and bloodied up before smirking a little and throwing a wink. He took hold of Wylan's arm and dragged his away.
"Matthias get me some bandages would you?" Nina asked as she healed the cuts and Matthias who had finished dressing Inej's arm walked over to you.
"Ouch woman!" You groaned and threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.
"It's the size of a paper cut! You don't shout this much when you have a literal bullet in your shoulder".
"They hurt more".
She rolled her eyes though a smile was present on her face as she cleaned the blood from your neck and healed the long cut there.
"Where's Kaz?" You asked, not wanting to admit that you had missed him and wanted to be in his presence.
"He's out somewhere, probably finding another deal," Matthias sighed and bandaged your palm.
After some time you were all healed though the scars were as clear as day. You didn't mind them at all because you were convinced they made you look even more terrifying and beautiful.
"You all okay?" You questioned Inej who was sharpening her collection of knives.
"I always am," she smiled and took your knife to sharpen making you give her a grateful look.
It was now almost past eleven at night and you were sitting on the bed in Kaz's room waiting for him. You wanted to see him, had longed for him after being away for almost an entire day.
And the Saints did answer your plea albeit a while later. You heard the familiar tap of his cane and heavy footsteps as he climbed the staircase and opened the door. His eyes sharp but relaxing upon seeing you.
"Mission went well?" He asked and took off his coat and hat while walking towards you and slumping down on the bed.
"Yes, though Arken's betrayal was a great bit of surprise," you said and sat up, unconsciously putting weight on your elbows and arms in doing so and hissing hissing angrily, clutching your sore muscles.
"What's wrong?" He asked immediately but when you didn't answer, he got up to turn on the lights and saw your scrunched up face.
And one by one he took notice of the bruises that were turning black and blue, bandages being wrapped around your palm and bicep and a thin but prominent scar on your neck. He swallowed the unfamiliar restlessness, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and kill the man who had injured you so badly.
"You're hurt," he stated as though you weren't aware of it and closed the distance, sitting as close to you as possible. "You're hurt," he repeated, his eyes flicking from every part of you back to your eyes.
"I was, I'm okay now".
"Who?" He all but spat out, his insides burning with hatred.
"Arken. But I killed him, don't worry".
He eased a little and removed his gloves, cautiously reaching forward to hold your bandaged palm in both of his hands. His breath hitched at the coldness and you made a move to pull away but his grip tightened and he shook his head firmly.
Slowly but surely he relaxed again, feeling comfortable as he unknowingly cradled your hand with such gentleness that you closed your eyes. His fingers traced the edge of the white material, rubbing slow circles.
He suddenly looked up and your breath got caught in your throat at the sheer proximity between you two. You were so close that you could feel the air he heavily exhaled and a faint blush was quick to rise on your cheeks. His dark brown irises staring intently into yours with a flame of possessiveness.
His eyes dipped down to your lips before moving to the scar on your cheekbone and his eyebrows furrowed just a tiny bit. He raised his hand once again, he had only done it once before and the feeling was a huge rival to drowning.
His jaw tightened when the tip of his index finger touched your jaw as softly as a feather. Despite wanting to stay still, you couldn't help it and leaned into his hand, conveying the message that you needed more.
He understood and gritted his teeth, carefully sliding his palm upwards to cup your cheek. His chest expanded as he released the pent up frustration.
This feeling, it was a rival to heaven.
Now that he had touched your skin, he craved more. His thumb softly caressed the scar like it may disappear under his brush. The finger moved at a leisurely pace, soaking in the beautiful feeling for as long as he could hold on.
You couldn't bring yourself to talk after witnessing the tenderness that oozed from his touches and caresses. It was like nothing you had experienced before. The moment felt so precious and for good reason.
You smiled at him, your eyes displaying the immense love that your heart held only for him and also silently thanked him.
He noticed. Of course he did.
And he offered you a gorgeous smile of his own. His lips stretching though not too wide but it was perfect for you and you fell for him yet again.
You found home in his smile and he saw love in your eyes.
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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago
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Passing The Baton (Six of Crows One-Shot)
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Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader / requests are open and encouraged
Summary: To your knowledge, your crush on Kaz is unrequited. Apparently this is not the case.
CW: Kaz is dumb but we love him
SAB/SOC Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
Kaz ‘Dirtyhands’ Brekker. Bastard of The Barrel. Also- your unrequited love. Kaz had caught your eye just as he had caught everyone else’s. Everyone knew not to mess with the Dregs, and that was thanks to Kaz. Before he’d risen through the ranks of the club, the Dregs had been no one. Quite literally the dregs of society- and while, yes, that was where the name came from, it was quite the rise to fame as the Dregs started getting more and more popular, and more and more dangerous.
Even the Crow Club was starting to become a real pain in the other clubs’ asses. 
But Kaz? He’d fascinated you well before any of this. You’d been working at the Crow Club as a serving girl since before Kaz arrived. Not long, mind, but long enough before that you got to experience both sides of the Dregs’ fortune. 
Kaz hadn’t seemed to take much notice of you at first- and why would he? Weren’t you just another serving girl being groped by the drunk patrons? Anything to make a few Kruge. But he did take notice when you threatened to cut the balls off a patron when said patron got a little too handsy one day.
He’d taken you back into his office and thwacked his cane on the table hard enough to scratch the varnish and told you rather harshly to never do that again. To come to him next time there was an issue like that and he’d deal with it… discretely. 
What that had meant was clear only to Kaz, and that was fine by you. But that was when your little crush had really taken off. What could you say? You liked a bad boy. Someone who could handle his own and Kaz could definitely handle his own. Cane or no. 
Despite telling you off, Kaz had clearly taken note that you weren’t afraid to get your hands a little dirty either, something he had an appreciation and mutual respect for. And so you went from lowly serving girl to, well, still a serving girl, but a serving girl who also took jobs for Dirtyhands and worked with him to secure patronage for the club, and Kruge for his and your own pockets. And for Per Haskell’s pockets as well, you supposed. Lazy bastard. 
But you longed for more.
 
You longed for Kaz’s touch, for his lips on your skin. You longed for his affections as much as you longed for his approval. It was a dangerous combination.
As far as you could tell, he did not feel the same way. But then again, would you have ever known otherwise? Kaz kept his cards close to his chest- as he should. 
Today seemed different though. You’d barely made it back from a job and Kaz seemed… angry, to put it lightly. You had no idea why, though, considering you got what he wanted, and made it out alive, too. Win-win. 
Inej may have had to save you, but that was beside the point. 
“You need to be careful,” he said, mouth pursed angrily. “You can’t be making reckless choices and silly mistakes. This is The Barrel. I can’t afford mistakes.” 
You met his harsh gaze head-on and shoved the ledger he’d asked for into his chest with vigour. Kaz didn’t even break the gaze between you, just reached with one gloved hand to take the ledger off you. 
“I got what you wanted, didn’t I?” 
A muscle in Kaz’s jaw twinged. 
“That is not the point.” 
You let out an exasperated scoff, removing your hand from his chest with another soft shove. Surprisingly, Kaz lets the action move him. 
“Then what is the point?” You ask, frustration evident in your features. 
“The point is- oh, for Saints’ sake,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We could have lost you. I could have lost you.” 
Your eyebrows practically disappeared into your hairline. 
“You could have lost me…” you trail off, echoing his words, feeling them out for hidden meanings. 
“You’re a good investment. I don’t like to lose investments.” 
Oh. Okay. An investment. You should have known that that was all you were to him. That’s all you were ever going to be to Kaz no matter how much you wished differently. Ridiculous. 
“Of course,” you reply, turning to walk away. “Your investment needs a dri-hey!” 
Kaz’s gloved hand snatches at your forearm and yanks you back towards him. You re-balance yourself and glare at him, looking between the tight grip he has on your arm and his heated glare. 
“Stop,” he says before forcing his features to soften. “I’m not one for feelings.” He practically shudders through the word. “You’re more than that. An investment, I mean.” 
You stay quiet, not giving him anything to work with here, but you’re surprised he can’t hear the uptick in your heartbeat. 
“Look,” his grip loosens. “I don’t want to lose you. Purely selfish reasons. Not because you’re an investment, but-” Kaz clears his throat and avoids eye contact. “I care for your wellbeing.” 
It’s not an outright declaration of love, but it’s about as close to it as someone like Kaz would give. He’d bared his soul to you here. All the fractured, broken pieces of it. He’d bared his heart for you to treasure or smash into bitty little pieces. 
You sucked in a breath. 
“Are you saying you have feelings for me?” 
Kaz grunts and lets go of your arm. You brush your fingers over where he’d just touched you. 
“I suppose so, yes,” he said, eyes flitting to the door like he was thinking about making a run for it. 
“Don’t suppose it would interest you to know I felt the same way, would it?” 
And there it was. Passing the baton back to Kaz. Passing your heart in return for his. Now it was he who held the power to treasure or smash you into pieces. 
Kaz finally met your gaze, and his lips ticked up into a small smirk.
“Oh, I knew that.”
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jahayla-parker · 2 years ago
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Wylan Van Eck Navigation
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All Wylan Van Eck x Reader fics will have the reader as gender neutral / the gender will not be specified
NAVIGATION TOOLS:
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ANGST. *
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Works coming soon, requests for him are open!
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Jesper Fahey Navigation/Masterlist
Kaz Brekker Navigation/Masterlist
Nikolai Lantsov Navigation/Masterlist
Six of Crows Navigation/Masterlist
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Main Masterlist Navigation (AIl My Works)
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jazzythursday · 2 years ago
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Wylan leaves in the morning.
He doesn’t plan to, not exactly, but he definitely doesn’t plan on staying, either.
Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go.
Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time.
He has a good time, for the most part, and it’s always a welcome break from the awful chemical smell burned into the Tannery or the staleness of the empty rooms in cheap boarding houses (when he can afford them) that Wylan is used to. Wylan likes the freedom that comes with it, too. It’s liberating to go where he wants and do what he pleases; to not worry about who he’s seen with or sleeps with or what they might think of him after. And he likes feeling wanted, for a little while. He likes being reminded that he exists.
So Wylan does not make a habit of falling asleep with the people who take him to bed.
He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.
He doesn't remember, and yet, Wylan wakes up with his head pillowed on Jesper’s chest. With Jesper’s arm draped over him. His breath is warm where it ghosts over the top of his hair, and if Wylan glances up he can see the way Jesper’s mouth— those lips— fall open in sleep.
It’s the best morning he’s had in months, possibly. Certainly the most comfortable.
He knows it can’t last.
Wylan looks at Jesper, still sleeping peacefully next to him, and he panics.
He’d woken up in Jesper Fahey’s arms.
He’d slept with Jesper Fahey.
Jesper has a reputation, and Wylan knows it, even new to the Barrel as he is. He’d heard about Dirtyhand’s second and resident sharpshooter plenty— Can’t resist a gamble, never misses a shot, and not just with bullets. Jesper Fahey is an excellent marksman, they say, with terrible luck with the cards, and a soft spot for pretty girls and even prettier boys.
Jesper’s played the field— multiple fields— went on a seismic world tour of fields.
Wylan is very good at not being noticed. He’s also very good at listening. People tend to look past him, they never pay any mind to the too skinny boy with the wild hair and the hunched shoulders and the grime that never seems to wash off completely after his long shifts at the Tannery. Wylan knows this, knows he’s very adept at being able to disappear, when he needs to.
So by the time Wylan actually meets Jesper, he’s well aware of his place in Ketterdam’s booming rumor mill. Jesper has many, and Wylan thinks by now he may have heard them all.
And yet, none of them do a thing to prepare him for Jesper.
They’d met in a tavern.
Wylan had been nursing his drink for the better half of an hour, trying to come up with reasons not to go back to the sad cot he had waiting for him in a rented room, with the only window overlooking the brick wall of a dark alley.
So far, he’d only come up with the one.
Wylan had seen the tall Zemeni man from across the room and hadn’t stopped looking since. He was flirting with a girl at the bar, twirling one of his guns in one hand demonstratively with a drink in the other. The girl— a curly haired blond— was giggling, hand pressed to her mouth with eyes that had very clear and direct intentions.
Wylan had almost resolved himself to a night of wasting the few kruge at his disposal with little to show for it, when the man had looked up and caught him staring. The man had smiled, twirling his gun with an extra flourish and then tipped his hat. Wylan smiled back, and gave a little wave. Embarrassing, He’d thought, stop it, he’s already with someone else anyway. He’d looked down, and stared at the near empty contents of his drink until someone sat down next to him and said, in a voice like apple butter and sweet syrup, “Can I get you another of those?”
Then Wylan had looked up into the eyes of the handsomest man he’d ever seen, and thought, he has the most perfect lips.
Out loud, he’d said, “I, uh, well—” His mouth was wide open, he’d realised, and shut it quickly. Again, the man had smiled. Again, Wylan had smiled back. “Yes, please.”
And that's how he’d met Jesper.
Afterwards, they’d stumbled through the streets— I know a place, Jesper said, If you want to take this somewhere more private— until they’d passed a corner where a vendor was selling traditional Kerch sweets out of a cart.
“Stroopwafels!” Jesper had stopped. “I love stroopwafels!”
Wylan was tugging him toward the cart without really making a conscious decision to move, and Jesper had laughed, surprised and delighted.
Wylan bought them both stroopwafels and handed Jesper his with a shy smile and a shrug. “For the drink.”
Jesper looked at him consideringly, head caulked to the side, and Wylan felt himself blushing in the low light of the lamps. “You’re sweet,” he’d said eventually.
“Is that bad?” Wylan had asked, sheepish. Jesper was already shaking his head.
“It’s good. Just not that many sweet things to be had in the Barrel. It’s refreshing.” He’d bit off a piece of one of the waffles and smiled. “These are sweet too,”— he’d leaned in, smile still earnest but with something decidedly different underneath— “I like sweet.”
Jesper had not touched him like he’d been expecting to be touched. Jesper made no assumptions; he’d asked, about everything, in a way that was near gentlemanly if it wasn’t for the fact that he radiated trouble through his pores. Jesper was— not quite gentle, because Wylan had expected hot and heady and everything deep, and Jesper was all of that and more— but he wasn’t rough. He didn’t bruise, not if Wylan didn’t say yes first, and afterwards he’d laid back down and settled Wylan into his arms in a way that he had no real way of protesting— didn’t want to protest, anyway— and kissed him.
It was that that had scared Wylan the most, he thinks. Because Wylan is rarely kissed for the express purpose of it. It was always the promise of more— the rush of what was to come. But people do not generally tend to kiss Wylan for the sake of kissing Wylan. It’s different. Jesper is different, and Wylan can’t afford to be stupid enough to do something like get attached. Can’t afford much at all— really.
But Jesper had kissed him, pleased and lazy and warm, and at some indeterminate time later they had both apparently fallen asleep.
And it was nice.
It was too nice. It hurt with how nice it was.
Wylan peels himself slowly out of Jesper’s arms, careful not to wake him, and decides then that he cannot stand to be here any longer.
Jesper Fahey is not what he’d expected, he’s better.
Jesper Fahey is lovely, and beautiful, and kinder to him than anyone has been to Wylan for almost as long as he can remember.
Jesper Fahey is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he isn’t going to stick around for someone like Wylan.
So Wylan leaves, and he doesn’t look behind him as he closes the door.
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sky-neverending · 7 months ago
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can wylan get out of my head like i don’t…. i don’t need to write more wesper. i don’t. i don’t.
i really don’t…..
fuck it.
50 notes and i’ll write a 5k wesper oneshot
100 notes and i’ll buckle down and write my ghost fic all the way through
150 notes and every ask i get for the next week related to the crows will be answered with at least 1k of fic
do your worst, tumblr.
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infpbrwriter · 5 months ago
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Alys' Labour
Can you imagine if Alys' went into labour while she was still at the Crows' mercy? That would've bee so funny. Matthias fussing, Nina trying to help, Jesper gagging, Wylan freaking out and Kaz just standing there, even more traumatised than before.
If there are fics like this?
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