BTS Series Masterlist

Some good ol’ unhinged Kaz Brekker (+ridiculous doodles). Hats off to Freddy Carter for slaying it this season, just nonstop outstanding performance!

missing this barrel rat right now

my boredom and desire to not do what i’m supposed to be doing know no bounds, so here are some Haikyuu!! team banner headers 

Like/Reblog if you use :)

me with preening slut's tits

o’ heartless woman

chpt. 1: in which yoongi seeks his fortune

based on howl’s moving castle, the film by studio ghibli and the novel by diana wynne jones

→ 🌟 pairing: ot7 x fem.mc

→ 🌿 genre: howl’s moving castle AU, slowburn (?), fluff, bit o’ angst, eventual smut

→ 🔥 word count: 5.3k

→ 🗝️ summary: yoongi did not ask to be hexed. he did not ask for you, a reclusive sorceress, to wander into his shop and take an interest in his work. he did not ask for a vengeful, jealous wizard to cast a spell on him, turning him into an old man, and he most definitely did not ask to stumble upon your magical moving castle and be coaxed into making a deal with a mischievous fire demon to save your soul. and above all, he most certainly, most definitely, did not ask to become attached to you along the way.

→ 🔮 content warnings: sorceress!mc, apprentice!jungkook, fire demon!hoseok, cursed!yoongi, wizard of the waste!jimin, profanity

→ 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! you don’t have to be familiar with howl’s moving castle to understand the story (but it’s an incredible film and novel so you should look into it anyways lol). some lines are direct/indirect quotes from the movie and novel, all credit goes to the original creators. please reblog and comment your thoughts 👉👈 keep the tumblr fanfic community alive and engage with writers pretty please!

The castle is restless today. Rolling hills and swaying grasses rush by through the bathroom window’s smudged panes, all blanketed by a thick layer of fog. You can even see a faint cluster of gable-roofed houses in the distance.

“Hoseok!” you call out, bounding down the stairs.

The face in the fireplace looks up at you with an expression of feigned shock.

“Yes?” he replies, playfully innocent, but the mischief in his voice sparks just like his flaming orange hair.

“Why are we so close to town? I told you to move the castle North.”

Hoseok just smiles that near-blinding smile, his teeth white hot flames in his mouth.

“Don’t you know? You have to go to Folding Valley today.”

Keep reading

Sneaking Around - Sebastian x F! Farmer

Rating: M

Warnings: NSFW (MDNI), oral sex, vaginal sex, terrible humor, submissive Sebastian, Farmer sneaking around with the sheer purpose of fucking the emo

Word Count: 5.7K

A/N: Sebastian brain rot continues

You and Sebastian had been “hanging out” for about two months, hanging out being the term you use because despite the fact that you’ve kissed him (only once you might add) the two of you hadn’t really defined your relationship yet. However, despite the fact that labels were currently up in the air, both of you were still hesitant to let anyone else know about the amount of time the two of you were spending together. Most nights you would find yourself precariously sneaking past Robin to make your way to your not quite boyfriends bedroom, where you two would spend the night watching terrible B list horror movies and eating stupid amounts of popcorn. If Sam or Abigail asked about how you two got along, you’d always find yourselves either deflecting away from the question, or answering with a “they’re pretty cool” or “they’re fun to hang with”. It was starting to grate on your nerves.

Tonight was no different. You approached 24 Mountain Road at about 7:30 PM, knowing that by this time Robin and Demetrius were more than likely getting ready for bed, and Maru was probably locked up in her room working on her latest invention. You had about 30 minutes to get in and get to Sebastian’s room before Robin came out to lock the door, like she did every night at exactly 8PM.

You opened the door slowly, freezing when you heard it give a small squeak of resistance. Deciding not to push you luck and risk it making more noise if you opened it further, you quietly slipped through the small gap you’d made before silently shutting the door behind yourself. The house was silent save for the quiet hum of a TV coming from Robin’s bedroom. You peaked your head around the corner, making sure her door was shut before slipping around and down the stairs to Sebastian’s basement bedroom, not even bothering to knock as you opened the door and rushed inside. Looking at the time, it was 7:45, perfect timing.

Looking around, you saw Sebastian at his computer, fingers nimbly ghosting along the keyboard as he typed line after line of code, eyes trained on the screen in front of him and headphones over his ears, it didn’t appear that he had even noticed your entrance. Perfect.

You clocked Sebastian as handsome the second you saw him on your second day in Pelican Town. You were out at the dock, Willy had sent you a letter to come by that morning and you were down there to meet him. It was a rainy Tuesday, most of the town were in their right mind to stay in doors in such nasty weather, but when you got to the dock, you noticed another person there with you, across the way on the opposite bridge. His hair was dark and plastered to his slim face, he sat at the edge of the peer, one knee pulled up to his chest, the other dangling off the edge, his elbow perched on his knee, a lit cigarette in his hand that he periodically brought to his lips.

“Who’s that?” You’d asked Willy after he’d gifted you his old fishing rod. The angler looked out to the opposite peer.

“Him? Oh that’s the carpenters boy, Sebastian I think his name is. He comes out here when it rains, kid’s interesting I’ll give him that.”

You met Sebastian properly the next day, he and Sam were outside Sam’s house, the blonde working through another level on his gameboy while Sebastian looked over his shoulder, cigarette in hand. Having already met Sam on your first day, you walked over to greet him.

“Oh hey, (Y/N)!” Sam greeted you when he looked up from the screen. “What’s going on?”

“I was just picking up some stuff from Pierre, thought I’d stop by and say hello.” You replied, holding your bag of goodies from the general store. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothin’ much, playin’ some games, chatting, that sort of thing,” Sam looked over to his friend before a look or recognition crossed his face. “(Y/N) I don’t think you’ve met Sebastian.” He pitched a thumb to the dark haired boy beside him, who only offered a glance to you. “He lives like right down the road from you.”

You took the opportunity to really look at Sebastian, he was tall, at least a few inches taller than Sam, who himself was not particularly short. His hair was dark, parted to the side and a stark contrast to the fairness of his skin. He was slender, the hoodie he wore looking to be a few sizes too big on his thin frame, his face was handsome though, sharp and angular with some of the most piercing gray eyes you’d ever seen, eyes that appeared to stare into your soul. “I’m (Y/N),” you greeted sweetly. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.”

“Welcome to Pelican Town,” Sebastian’s voice was low but not extremely so, it was nice. “Out of all the places you could have gone, for some reason you chose this place.” He almost seemed amused. Something in your gut told you he was interesting.

You would spend the next several months getting to know Abigail and Sam, and it took a few more months after that for Sebastian to finally begin opening up to you. Getting through his thick outer shell was hard, but you eventually managed to crack it open, exposing the vulnerable boy underneath. The boy who felt displaced in his own home, under appreciated and undervalued by his mother and step father.

Right now, you leaned against the closed door of Sebastian’s bedroom, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him work. Normally he was done with work by now, usually waiting for you on his sofa or bed, but you guessed tonight was either a late night, or he had lost track of time, the latter would be your guess. You pushed yourself off the door, quietly slinking around his desk to stand behind him, watching for a moment as strings of code appeared on the screen as he typed.

Tonight would be different. Tonight you were finally going to get a label out of him, you were tired of not knowing what you meant to him, when you knew he meant so much to you. Slowly and gently, you placed your hands on either of his shoulders, feather light touches as you smoothed them over the soft fabric of his jacket, curling your arms around his neck as you leaned down to rest your head on his shoulder.

His fingers paused on the keyboard, taking a moment before reaching up to pull the headphones from his ears, turning his head slightly to greet you, a slightly tired look in his gray eyes. You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. “It’s almost 8 computer man.” You said against his skin.

“It’s that late already?” He asked, glancing down at the time at the bottom of his computer screen. Quickly, he moved his mouse over to the button highlighted ‘save’, and closed his file, turning around in his chair so he could face you clearly. “Any ideas on what you want to do tonight?” He asked. His eyes were completely innocent, as was the question, your mind however, was less so.

“I’ve got a couple.” You answered as he stood from his chair, once again towering over you, walking over to a shelf to look through his movie collection to find one the two of you hadn’t already seen. Yes, you definitely had a few ideas in mind.

***

Sebastian was always so warm, you’d noticed as you laid next to him on his bed. He was practically a furnace with the amount of heat he kicked off. The two of you sat in silence as the movie played, some cheap knock off of Godzilla, the effects were terrible and the script was laughable but that’s what made it fun. It was always like this, sitting side by side, arms occasionally brushing but other than that, minimal contact between the two of you. Originally, when the two of you first started these “date nights” you though that maybe he didn’t like you the way you liked him, but then you remembered that night, looking out at the lights of Zuzu City in the distance. He’d kissed you that night, so clearly he was interested in more than just a friendship. You kept expecting him to make the first move, an arm around your shoulder one night, maybe a hand on your thigh, but no, he was ever the gentleman, every night keeping his hands to himself, it was starting to drive you up the wall. However, you had made your decision, tonight you were going to make some waves, whether those waves were good or bad, was yet to be seen, but it was time to enact the first past of your plan.

You maneuvered, feigning a desire to get more comfortable when in reality you were moving to get closer to Sebastian, encircling one arm around his front to rest at the hem of his hoodie, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. You felt him freeze for only a moment before he relaxed into it, one of his arms coming up to wrap around your shoulder, forcing your head off of his shoulder and onto his chest. Part one was a success! Now for part two, which was going to be a little more tricky.

Your fingers played with the hem of his hoodie, occasionally slipping underneath just enough for the slightest touch of skin, the first time you’d done it the poor boy jumped, your fingers were cold against his heated skin, but he didn’t stop you, instead, the hand he had wrapped around your shoulder began tracing lines up and down your side, it was hypnotizing to say the least, but you had to stay focused.

Slowly, you slipped your fingers further and further under his shirt, you felt his abdominal muscles tense as you traced patterns onto his skin, making sure to keep your face schooled, as to not let him in on your plan. He was handling it well, fingers on your side rarely faulting, even as you looked up, placing a chaste kiss on his throat. You lips lingered on his skin for a moment before you pulled away.

“Something tells me you’re not watching the movie.” Sebastian said, despite the obvious amusement in his tone, you heard the slight waver of his voice. So you were effecting him.

“I’m watching something more interesting.” You whispered agains the skin of his neck.

“Why do I feel like you’re throwing out some hints?”

“I’ve been throwing out hints for the past few months but thanks for noticing.” That got a light chuckle out of him, just a soft breathy noise.

“How could you ever be not 100% enraptured in discount Godzilla?” Sebastian joked, finally looking down to meet your gaze, his eyes were cool, but you saw the glint of interest in them, curiosity even.

“Is discount Godzilla more interesting then a willing and eager girl in your lap?”

“Well I don’t know, seeing as there is not currently a willing and eager girl in my lap.”

“So sorry, let me fix that.” You sat up, slinging a leg over his lap so you were properly straddling him, his hands immediately coming to rest on your hips as your tucked your head against his shoulder, placing another kiss on his throat.

“You’re right, this is much more interesting than discount Godzilla.” Sebastian laughed as you planted a kiss just below his ear, before sitting back to meet his eyes. “Now my only question is what to do with her.”

“I’ve got a few ideas.” You said as you leaned forward, slotting your lips with his, the first kiss you’ve had with him in months and it was intoxicating. The kiss itself was chaste, innocent, just like the first one had been. It only lasted for a few moments before you pulled back, Just far enough to look him in the eyes, those steel gray eyes that had caught so much of your attention the first time you saw them. Your hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders, one of your thumbs grazing over the skin of his throat, such fair skin, skin that you would love to mark all over.

You don’t know who moved first, but before you knew it your lips were back on his, a desperate kiss that had you gasping as you pulled him infinitely closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. You practically shoved your tongue into his mouth, earning a desperate whimper from him, a sound that went straight to your core. One of your hands came to rest at the base of his throat, pushing ever so slightly, not enough to restrict his breathing, but enough to push him back against the headboard, a gentle knock of his head against the wood.

Your other hand moved down, once again slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie to press against the hot skin of his abdomen. “Take it off?” You asked against this lips. He didn’t make a verbal response, instead only nodding as he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. You helped him pull the hoodie up over his torso until he tossed it across the room, where to, you didn’t care right now. “Good boy.” You said before you could stop yourself. You froze for only a moment, waiting to see his reaction, but instead of rejection, you were met with a whine. A fucking whine! You knew the game to play now.

You smiled into his lips when you kissed him again, hands moving to travel over his now exposed chest. “Are you going to keep being good for me?” You all but whispered against his mouth. You felt him nod. “Use your words, Sebastian.”

“Yes.” Was all he said before you moved lower, planting open mouth kisses over his neck, starting just below his ear. You contemplated leaving a mark, nice and dark where he couldn’t hide it, so everyone would know he was taken, spoken for.

You could feel his growing erection under you, straining against the fabric of his jeans. You planted a kiss to his collar bone as one of your hands traveled south, cupping him through has pants. He hissed at the friction your hand gave him, his head once again falling back against the headboard.

“This is definitely not what I was expecting to happen tonight.” Sebastian panted out as you applied more pressure to his clothed cock. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes again.

“Do you want to stop?” It was a simple question, and if he said yes and you would, no questions or rebuttals. He was silent for all but a moment before,

“No.” You smiled as your lips found his again, your hand moving from his cock to the button of his jeans, popping it open to slip your hand inside and palm him through his boxers.

“Tell me, was it the ‘good boy’ that got you this hard?” You asked, and you swore you heard him moan.

“Among other things.” He hissed out as you wrapped your fingers around him through his boxers. You smiled, you were going to wreck this boy.

The movie was still playing in the background as you coaxed Sebastian to lay on his back, chest heaving as you pulled your hand from inside of his pants, only to hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his jeans and boxers together far enough to let his cock spring free, precum already leaking from the tip, he was so worked up and you felt as if you’d hardly done anything yet.

Part of you wanted to pin him to the bed, climb on top and ride him until you couldn’t remember your own name, but that could wait until the next time, tonight you had a very specific plan. You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly just to hear him hiss. Leaning down you placed a gentle kiss on his hip bone, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Red means stop.” You said as your hand began to move, sliding to the head of his cock. He nodded, panting as you collected the precum at the tip into your hand to use as lubricant as you stroked him, slowly at first, letting him get used to you, experimenting with different levels of grip before you started working him faster.

Sebastian brought a hand to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to keep from making too much noise as your hand stroked up and down his length. You felt him attempt to thrust up into you hand, at which point your other one came to pin his hips to the bed, drawing out another whine from his throat. Sebastian was well endowed, a solid 7 inches, thick enough to take your entire hand, your fingertips barely meeting, staring down at his swollen cock, you couldn’t help but wonder what he tasted like.

You leaned down, flattening your tongue against the underside of the head, and he nearly wailed, would have, had he not brought his other hand to press against his mouth as well. You could tell he was getting close as your closed your lips around the head of his cock, laving your tongue over the slit, feeling him shudder beneath you. His moans got louder, higher pitched the closer he got, all the way until he was at the precipice, ready to fall, when suddenly you pulled away.

Sebastian gasped at the sudden change, nearly choking on the air, meeting your eyes, you could see the tears in his eyes. You grinned, placing a gentle kiss on his stomach. “I didn’t say you could cum yet.” You smiled as you dragged your tongue up his chest to lap at his throat, this time not hesitating to suck a mark there, marring his fair skin for all to see. He was still panting, trying to catch his breath.

“Please,” he whispered as you began your descent down his torso again, giving gentle nips to his skin along the way, until you once again reached the bones of his hips, flattening your tongue over his skin. “(Y/N), please.” You smiled against his flesh.

“Please what?” You looked up at him again, his face was flushed, pupils blown out wide with want, breath coming out in short pants.

“Please let me cum.” He said so nicely, you were tempted to give in, but what’s the fun in that?

“And how would I do that, baby?” You stroked the skin of his inner thigh, well what you could reach with his pants still in the way.

“Please touch me.”

“I am touching you, Seb.”

“No.” He flopped his head against the pillow. You smiled once more.

“You gotta be specific babe.” You started, tracing soothing circles into the skin of his hips. “Tell me.”

He was silent for a moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “Please touch my cock.” There it is.

“Good boy.” You said as you hooked your fingers into his waistband again, this time pulling his jeans and boxers all the way off, shoving them to the floor as you made yourself comfortable between Sebastian’s legs. You heard his whine again, his hips giving an involuntary thrust up at the praise. Your clothes felt too tight, still fully intact as Sebastian lay in front of you completely bare, spread out and waiting for you to take him. You leaned down to press a kiss to the base of his cock, ripping a choked out gasp from his throat as you dragged your tongue from his base to the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum at the head. Wrapping your lips around him once more, you took him further into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock hit nearly the back of your throat before pulling back again, dragging your tongue along the underside as you hollowed your cheeks, hand wrapped around what you couldn’t fit.

His hands found your hair as you proceeded to take him in your mouth, lavishing his cock with your tongue. The noises he made switched from moans to whines and back again as you moved your head up and down. He clasped a hand over his mouth to keep the noises from being to loud, not wanting to let the whole house know good he was being taken apart. His grip in your hair tightened as he painted your name, a litany of ‘please’ and ‘yes’ sprinkled in. He was getting close again his hips thrusting up into your mouth. You let him.

“(Y/N),” he choked out your name as you took more of him in your mouth. “(Y/N), close, so close, please, please.” He sounded wrecked, eyes shut and tear tracks down his cheeks as you sucked hard, moving just a little bit faster. You wanted to feel him cum, taste him and swallow everything he had down your throat.

Sebastian’s back arched off the bed as he came, flooding your mouth with his cum, which you happily took. He gasped soundlessly as his body tensed around you, his grip in your hair nearly painful, but sending pulsing heat to your core nonetheless.

He collapsed back on to the bed, chest heaving with the intensity of his orgasm. You let his softening cock fall from your lips, climbing up his body to kiss him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth with little resistance, smiling at his responding moan. His hands came up to wrap around your waist again, pulling your closer and deepening the kiss.

You felt his heated hands slip under your shirt, his palms flat against your sides as he slid your shirt up your torso. You broke the kiss, sitting up so you could completely remove it, reaching back and unclasping your bra, tossing it across the room. Sebastian’s eyes were glued to you, sitting up to press his lips to your chest, kissing your clavicle before moving lower, planting kisses over the curve of your breasts, one hand coming up to graze his thumb over your nipple, pulling a startled gasp from your lips. His fingers trailed deftly down your torso, fingertips calloused from years of typing, as he reached the waistband of your jeans, popping open the button and pulling the garment past the curve of your hips, along with your panties. You moved to get your jeans off of your legs, dropping them to the floor as you moved to once again straddle Sebastian’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him.

“And to think, we could have been doing this the whole time instead of watching B list horror movies.” You stated against his lips as you rolled your hips against this, his cock starting to once again so interest.

“What you don’t think discount Godzilla adds to the mood?” Sebastian joked, and you found yourself giggling into his mouth.

“Something you wanna share with the class about your affinity for Kaiju?”

“He must have a massive cock.” This time you really laughed, tucking your head against his shoulder, he smiled against your hair as his hands strokes up and down your sides. He placed a kiss just under your jaw before you found yourself on your back, Sebastian hovering over you, he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to your lips. You gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue into your mouth as he settles himself between your legs.

He kissed under your jaw, trailing his lips down your throat, you felt him sucking marks into your skin, but you didn’t care. He trailed further, placing kisses down your chest, sucking a few marks onto the curve of your breasts before dragging his tongue over one of your nipples, you arched your back into his touch, which he was all too pleased about by the look of his smile when he began to continue his descent down your body. He kissed down your stomach, down to your hips, where he marked you again. He carefully pushed your thighs further apart, admiring how you were spread out before him. He latched his lips onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, pulling a gasp from your lips as he sucked another mark there, and another and another until you were sure your inner thighs were going to be black and blue by morning.

Your breathing was heavy as he inched closer to your core. “To think,” he started, propping himself on one elbow while the other hand came to brush his knuckles against your throbbing heat, a ghost of a touch, but enough to light your skin on fire. “All this time you’ve been giving me pleasure, when you were so worked up yourself.” He slipped on of his fingers through your folds, teasing just at your entrance, but never daring to push inside. You were desperate to feel him inside.

“Well you were being so good for me, how was I supposed to focus on anything else?” You felt Sebastian sigh against your thigh. You wanted to tell him to hurry up, to put his mouth on you, devour you like you knew he wanted to. Instead he proceeded to place kisses everywhere but here you really wanted him. You were about to say something when without warning he licked a strip from your entrance to your clit, making you choke on your gasp. Your hands find his hair as he does it again before focusing his attention on your swollen clit, his arms wound around your thighs, pulling your legs further apart and half yanking you down further to meet his mouth. One of your hands moved from his hair to your mouth, covering it with the back of your hand to stifle the loud noises that wanted so badly to breech from your throat.

Sebastian lapped at your core like he was a man dying of thirst and your soaked cunt was the only source of water. You thrust your hips up, or tried to, as he had your hips in an ironclad grip, arching your back as he gave a rough hard suck to your clit. “Sebastian,” you gasped out, you felt him hum against you, sending a spark of electricity up your spine. Your grip tightened in his hair. “Fuck, baby, so good, you’re doing so good.” You babbled out, barely registering the moan from the man between your legs as he pulled you impossibly closer. The room was filled with the lewd slick noises of Sebastian’s ministrations on your cunt, combined with the quiet moans and gasps that escaped your lips, muffled by your hand. You wished you could be loud, make sure he knew just how good he was working you, just how thoroughly he was wrecking you with his tongue, but you definitely didn’t want the way Sebastian’s family found out about the two of you be because they were woken up at 1 am by the sounds of their son giving the sweet farmer girl from down the road the most amazing sex of her life.

You barely contained as scream when two of his long fingers penetrated you, scissoring inside of you as he stretched you open. He thrusted the two digits in and out of you, curling them in a come hither motion that had you seeing stars. You were getting close, each lap of his tongue and curl of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you panted, gripping the pillow behind you for leverage as your spine arched off the bed, attempting to get closer to him, if that was even possible. “So close, baby I’m so close, fuck, make me cum.” Sebastian hummed against you again and you felt yourself fall, the coil wound so tight finally snapping as you came, hand locking over your mouth to keep your scream inside as your body tensed, your lungs spasming as you tried desperately to take in air. He worked you through it, only pulling away when you pulled at his hair. He placed kisses over your hips and up your stomach as you panted, kissing up your chest and neck until he reached you lips. Your hands tangled into his hair as he kissed you, one hand gripping behind your thigh to hike your leg up over his hip, you could feel his cock, rock hard against your core.

The movie had long since ended, the bright white words spelling ‘play’ being the only thing to illuminate the room. He gave you a minute before reaching down to align himself with your entrance, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pushed into you, making you impossibly full as your hands scrambled for purchase over the skin of his back, your nails surly leaving angry red marks over his flesh. You pressed your lips against his shoulder as he bottomed out inside of you, buried to the hilt inside your heat. You could feel him trembling above you, not daring to move just yet, you let him get his bearings while you lavished the skin of his neck and shoulder with kisses, nipping gently at his skin.

Before long you felt his pull almost all the way out, covering your mouth with his own before slamming hard back into you, swallowing your gasp. He set a steady pace, fucking into you roughly while your nails bit into his shoulders. The room was full of the sounds of gasps and broken moans as he slammed into you, one of his hands coming to grip at your hip, lifting your hips just barely off the bed, but allowing him to get so much deeper, and you couldn’t help the moan the was ripped out of your throat, although he didn’t seem to care much as he buried his head against your shoulder, nipping at your sensitive skin as he picked up his pace.

Your moans became high pitched, trying desperately to stifle the noise by sucking mark after mark onto his shoulder. “Sebastian, seba- fuck.” A litany of his name fell from your lips, panting against his flesh before he faced you again to engulf you in a breath stealing kiss. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You pleaded into the kiss.

“(Y/N),” he all but moaned as his hips stuttered. He filled you so completely, his cock hitting every spot inside of you on every thrust, the grip he had on your hip tight enough you were sure you’d have bruises by morning, and you wanted them. You were approaching the edge again and fast, as you grasped for any kind of purchase, legs wrapping tight around his waist as his pace got faster and faster. “Close,” he gasped against your lips. “So close, fuck, (Y/N).” You tightened your legs around him, pulling him as close as you could.

“Come on baby,” you encouraged him, gasping at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Cum for me, fill me with it, I want it please!” You gasped out, Sebastian choked on air as his rhythm started to stutter some more. He grasped your body tight as he came, his cum spilling into you, filling you more, you toppled over the edge with him, letting out cry as he fucked the both of you through it.

Eventually the only sounds in the room were the sounds of panting, as the two of you caught your breath, Sebastian propping himself up on his elbows as he hovered above you, before slowly pulling out of you to collapse onto his back, chest heaving.

“Wow,” he choked out. You turned to your side to look at him, his dark hair scattered, unkempt from the way your fingers had raked through it, figuring your own hair wasn’t much better. You smiled up at him as you moved to lay your head on his chest, his arm coming to wrap around you, fingertips tracing lazy patterns into your skin. “Next time we have sex, we’re doing it at your house.” You felt your heart warm at his words.

“Agreed,” you said, planting a kiss on his chest. “That way I can hear all those pretty little moans.” His responding whine sending a dulled heat back to your core.

It was quiet for a while, part of you though he had fallen asleep, you were startled when he spoke. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He all but whispered into your hair. You felt the question rise in your throat, pressing your lips to his neck when you asked.

“Why’d you wait?”

Sebastian sighed. “I don’t know if it’s hard to tell, but I’m not exactly popular with people,” he confessed, you hummed in response. “We already had something good, and I wasn’t sure if you wanted more and I didn’t want to risk it.” You lifted yourself up onto your elbow, placing a hand on his jaw to turn his head to look at you, his gray eyes meeting your own. You pressed a chaste but passionate kiss to his lips, which he responded to in kind as his other arm came to wrap around your waist.

“I want everything you have to give.” You confessed against his lips.

***

“Woah someone got lucky last night.” Sam exclaimed walking into the saloon that next night, seeing Sebastian already waiting for him at the pool table. “Who was the lucky lady… or dude, I don’t judge my best friends taste.”

Sebastian stiffened, attempting to pull the collar of his hoodie up to cover the very obvious hickie that you had left on his throat. He seemed to stumble for an answer before he was interrupted by the sound of two more entering the back room, you and Abigail rounding the corner together, giggling about who knows what. Abigail went to her usual spot on the couch, ready to watch as Sam got his ass handed to him again in pool, while you walked over to Sebastian, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek before moving to go sit next to your friend.

Sebastian felt the flush rising up his neck, glancing up at his best friend to see an awestruck disbelieving look on his face, it would have been funny if it wasn’t directed at him.

“How the fuck did you pull-“ Same started.

“I don’t know.”

Nobody - OHSHC

NOTE: big, big thank you to the person helping me write this fic, LT! i don’t think they have a tumblr so here is a link to their quotev!

pairing - host club x reader

ongoing series, chapter 3

word count - 4,180

chapters 1 & 2 up now!

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broken rules

Viktor x gn!Reader (SFW)

Synopsis: Viktor has two rules: 1) no decorations. 2) no gifts. They're fairly easy rules to follow until you and Viktor get closer and he opens up to you about why he has them. The next thing you know, you're standing outside his door holding a little wrapped present.

Warnings: slight friends to lovers, nervous and shy viktor, general softness, some awkwardness/secondhand embarrassment, viktor trying his best

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Just a soft little story idea I had for Viktor :) Merry, Merry Christmas!

The gift felt too small. The five-by-five box felt dainty in your hands. It was velvet underneath the gold and silver wrapping paper. A soft, dark blue velvet with artificial diamonds embedded in the lid. It had a weight to it that made it feel heavier than it was. A little bit of glass, some perfectly polished metal; it felt like a solid rock in your hands.

Gifts were off the table. An easy ruling to come to when one of your two employers actively avoided holidays. His birthday, the winter celebrations, Halloween. Even the romance festival in the spring. No gifts and no celebrating. 

Well, in the lab, that is. 

“It is a hazard,” he said whenever the subject was broached. He wouldn’t even look up from whatever he was working on, those glittering eyes glued to his desk. “No decorations.”

It wasn’t a rule you could exactly argue with. It was a laboratory with dangerous machinery—garland, lights, and felt decorations didn’t mix where sparks flew and flames were open. 

But the no gifts rule, however…you hadn't bent it last year, but it felt applicable to do so this year. At least with Viktor, it did. You'd already broken it with Jayce for every holiday. Some baked goods, a fancy pen, a new notebook, or protective gear. He accepted it with the sole follow-up of don’t tell Viktor. 

Even if Viktor already knew. 

The new items had to come from somewhere, right? 

But Viktor just kept his head down as he worked. Some sly comments here and there about how he wondered how Jayce had come into the ownership of the new protective mask. Said specifically when you were holding sensitive material and balancing it on a tray to bring to Viktor. 

You almost dropped a hex crystal on him on more than one occasion when he had the worst—or, perhaps, the best—timing of his comments. But there was ill intent behind them. In fact, half of the time, upon you recovering from nearly breaking a hex crystal or a stack of beakers, Viktor would smile up at you. 

“Have you always been a rule breaker?” 

That was a popular question he threw at you with different variations. Always cheeky about it, too. At first, you hadn't caught the sly smile, and you'd started stuttering out an apology that you'd gotten him something too, but since there was the no-gift rule, you hadn’t followed through, but you had picked something out for him. 

“It is alright, (Y/N),” he’d say softly. A hand would go to your shoulder to help steady you before he took whatever you were holding. “I have the rule for a reason. If Jayce chooses to break it, that is his prerogative.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, the fear of losing your assistant position fading more and more as Viktor smiled up at you. “If you ever change your mind—”

“I will not.” The soft smile got tighter. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

You dropped it after that, never pushing the topic, even when Viktor teased you about the gifts given to Jayce. It wasn't like you were buying them to suck up to Jayce either—nor had you asked Viktor in order to do so with him. But the previous year working alongside them, you'd broken a different rule. 

No gifts, sure. But when you spent a third of your day in the lab with the two scientists, it was hard not to blur the line between employee and friend. Of course, it'd been a hard line at first. But as the months passed and you spent more late nights in the lab—ones that earned you curious, envious, and judgmental looks from the other assistants—it was kind of hard not to go from assistant to friend. Especially when you had sleepy brain and, rather quickly, things would turn into fits of laughter.

Mostly between you and Jayce as you fell against each other. Viktor was a bit more closed off, but his laughter was even more rewarding than anything. The little smiles, the branch away from his cold, workaholic behavior; you were determined to get the ice to completely melt. 

When you all shared common interests, it was fairly easy. 

The second year of what was supposed to be an internship rolled around, you weren't brought back as an intern. They asked you to be their full-time assistant—pay and obligatory help with any questions you might have about your classes at the academy included. 

How the hell could you say no to that? 

That’s when you started bending the rules. Sure, you had a bit more security and there was a stronger friendship underlying the relationship, but you still didn’t break it with Viktor. 

“There was not much celebrating to do in the Undercity,” he said one evening during year two. He was staring out the window at the crashing waves on the coast. There was a chill permeating the walls. Colder than typical for fall when the bushes and trees were still a bright summer green. “Given my situation, I was not attending many reciprocatory celebrations.”

You nearly dropped the freshly washed beakers. The glass felt thinner and more fragile in your hands than ever, and you stopped in your tracks. Viktor kept his eyes glued to the window and took some long, steadying breaths. His hands were resting on the desk before he pulled them to his lap and ran the right over his leg. 

That was the first time he’d ever said anything about his time pre-Piltover. Sure, Jayce had made mention of a few different anecdotes—Viktor being from the Undercity, the feat he faced getting into the academy, and absolutely zero mention of Viktor’s family. There were dots there to connect that created a Viktor-shaped image filled with a few walls around specific rulings that made a bit more sense. 

That didn’t stop the sudden surprise of Viktor being the one to share the information. 

“Jayce had mentioned I had never explained my desire—or lack thereof—for certain decisions made for the lab.” He pressed his fingers into the sensitive tissue around his knee. “Or, perhaps this friendship is a better label.”

He finally looked at you, the slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. A little vulnerability hung in the simple expression, and he looked back down at his desk when your eyes met. 

"I appreciate you sticking to it." He sighed and rolled his shoulders. "I do not bite, (Y/N). You can continue your work."

He tapped the empty space where you were supposed to put the beakers, and it was like you were kicked back into gear. Soft steps echoed in the now-empty room as you sauntered up beside him. A few potential responses rattled in your head as you sat them down on the metal top and pushed them toward him. 

A year ago, you probably would’ve just nervously nodded, excused yourself, and then beat yourself up for being such an awkward idiot. But after waking Viktor up in his room when he was late for presentations, staying late and helping him alone in the lab, having dinners and lunches with him—it was different. 

“You don’t have to explain anything, you know that?” You nudged his arm softly with your elbow. “You’re allowed whatever rules you want without feeling like you gotta explain them. But thanks for telling me. I know you don’t like talking about that stuff.”

Not the Undercity—Viktor was extremely open about the mistreatment of the citizens. But his personal time there? That stayed under lock and key. 

He knew what you meant. A clear representation in his softened gaze when he peered up at you. 

“Yes.” He nodded and pushed a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. “Given your new position, you have…I felt you should know, that is all.” 

“Fair enough.” You held your breath as you squeezed his shoulder. A lingering touch you hadn’t intended as one, but when there was a pale pink on his cheeks, you stayed to watch it sneak down his neck. “If you need anything else, I’ll be in the adjacent room working on a research paper.”

"Of course." Viktor nodded, and you took that as your cue to leave. "Should you require any assistance…"

“I know. Thanks, Vik.” 

He gave one sharp nod before the tinkering began, and you were slipping into the other room, breath held and heart reacting. It was like a racehorse aiming for first, and you plopped into your desk chair, holding your imaginary pearls. 

Viktor had confided in you. After a year of only academic and research talk—some funny stories, too, but those were mostly from Jayce—it was like jumping from an airship without any safety precautions. 

You were a grinning mess as you rocked back and forth, left to right, the tips of your toes on the ground and guiding you. Giddy. You were giddy. 

Finally, your friendship with Viktor was taking a step forward. 

He wasn’t exactly an open book after that, but he was starting to turn the key in the diary lock whenever it was just the two of you. Little tidbits slipped out whenever you were sitting side-by-side and working in comfortable silence. It was never at your expense either—you never had to share some deep, dark secret in order for him to feel like he should reciprocate. 

Sometimes he just…decided to share. 

How he liked to tinker as a child. He'd built boats, robots, new canes, even items that could be classified as weapons, but he never used them as such. How he'd snuck up into Piltover and basically slid unnoticed into campus until he proved his keep. How the hell could the professor say no when such a brilliant mind was present? 

"It is a unique conundrum," he murmured when the topic of your distaste toward a few elitist classmates. "Such a collection of brilliant minds, yet the classism separates those who could interact and prove to make a difference."

He sat back and laughed quietly. He wiped his hand on a rag before it rubbed the back of his neck, working out a knot. 

“It can be rather isolating in the Undercity when you are in my particular shoes, but coming to the academy, I expected it to be a similar experience.” He peered over at you and the pink was back on his cheeks. “Sure, there were times of isolation and, of course, distaste toward Piltover’s lifestyle. But I am grateful to have proven my old fears incorrect.”

He shrugged and reached forward, handing you a wrench and nudging the small engine you'd been watching him play with toward you. He pointed at a bolt that needed to be tightened, and you carefully moved, rarely allowed to directly help with whatever Viktor was personally working on. 

“Even if one is painfully egotistical and the other leans toward the desire of ignoring rules." He smiled when you pulled the wrench back, and he pointed to another bolt. "But Jayce and I would not be where we are were rules not broken." 

Viktor's hand grazed atop yours when he took the wrench back, and the pale pink traveled up to his ears. He cleared his throat and gave you the next instruction before you could even fathom a response. It seemed he hadn't wanted to hear one either once he immediately moved on from the topic, going into detail about wires, safety, and passing you some pliers. 

You’d heard the speech before, but you still listened. Even if you were a bit thrown by the sudden shift in subject. 

It was when you were walking back to your room that night that you decided you’d break the rule beyond Jayce that year. You just had to come up with the perfect present for Viktor. 

It sat in the fake-diamond studded blue velvet box beneath the silver and gold wrapping paper. There was a little ribbon wrapped around it, and you played with the bow it made on top as you stood outside Viktor's room. It was a fifty-fifty chance he was actually in there, and you just needed to muster up the courage to check. 

But it was also a fifty-fifty chance whether he’d like or dislike your rule-breaking decision. 

Still, you couldn't stand outside in the blue and white garland-covered hallway all night. Either Viktor would return and find you, or he'd leave and find you. So, you just had to knock. 

You knocked twice. Hard enough for him to hear if he was all the way back in his bedroom. Counted to thirty as you waited for him to open the door. Told yourself that if you got to sixty, you’d knock again. Then if he didn’t answer after that, you’d leave and check the lab. 

At forty-five, he answered the door looking a bit disheveled and unfurrowed his brows upon seeing you. His khaki slacks were wrinkled, his white shirt was unbuttoned and showing off the tank top underneath, and his red tie was left hanging untied around his neck. He had what looked like a new cane in his hand with vibrant reds and golds on it. 

Then his eyes dropped to the present in your hands. 

"It's not a gift." But you held up the obvious present, and Viktor cocked a thick brow. "I promise. It just fell into the wrapping paper and then spiraled into the ribbon." 

You turned the bottom of it to face him and shrugged. 

"Then it fell onto a little tag that said 'to: Viktor, ' so, really, I'm just playing messenger here." You turned it bow-side up and fixed the slightly turned ribbon. "No idea who it could possibly be from or what it could be. Just doing what I felt was the Good Samaritan thing to do and delivering it.”

Viktor sucked in his cheeks ever so slightly before nodding, smiling, and, with obvious amusement, stepped back. He held out his left hand and motioned for you to enter, and you trotted into his dorm. 

"Sit, please." He followed you to the couch where you always sat whenever you had to bring him something there, and any conversing took place. Well, any beyond the typical thank you he gave for the personal delivery of something from Jayce or Heimerdinger. “So, if you do not know who this ‘not gift’ is from, how did it come into your ownership?”

“Magically appeared in the stack of presents I had already wrapped.” You held it up as Viktor sat beside you, his cane resting in front of you on the coffee table. “I was so confused, so I took a look, and bam, it was meant for you.”

"Ah." Viktor held it carefully as if he was worried he'd break it before even unwrapping it. "Well, you did not have to go out of your way to deliver such a package, but I…appreciate it."

You waved a hand and shrugged. 

"It's the holiday season. I had to do it.”

“Mhm.” Viktor gave you an expectant look before he gently tugged the bow undone. He let it fall to his lap before he reached down and gathered it up, moving it to the coffee table before carefully undoing the wrapping paper. The same way you used to as a child to try and take it off without ripping a single inch of it. “Well, I know it is not from Jayce. He could never wrap anything this well.”

You raised your brows and snickered—Jayce couldn’t wrap to save his life. Last year, you’d helped him pick out a gift for his mom and wrapped it for him. When you happened to be in the room with her after she’d received it, she gave your arm a squeeze and thanked you for clearly wrapping her present. 

You gave Jayce shit over it for the next three weeks until he finally said it’d been the one thing he’d never been able to master. 

"It looks like the sky one of my first nights at the academy," Viktor murmured when he got to the box, and your heart lurched in your chest. "I was given access to the telescope in one of the courses. One of the few ways to truly see the stars in their genuine beauty."

He ran his fingers over the top of the box and smiled. 

“Perhaps I need to revisit the telescope. Have you had the chance to visit it?” 

Viktor peered over at you and it was such a genuine, unexpected question that you just stared at him for a few seconds. You were still recovering from his previous sentiment. His smile grew the longer you lingered in silence, simply blinking at him as you tried to find words to say.

“No,” you finally muttered. You mentally slapped yourself in the face and laughed softly. “I haven’t, unfortunately. My schedule never took me that direction.”

"Do you wish to visit?" His head cocked to the side, and you felt like you'd slipped into an alternate dimension where Viktor was interested in doing things outside of the lab. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’ve been wanting to, but…well, you know.”

“I will take you.” Viktor smiled and glanced back down at the box. “It is one of the few extra benefits of my position alongside the professor.”

Before you could respond, Viktor opened the box, and his brows rose. It was a dark blue velvet on the interior, too, just lacking the fake diamonds. Instead, however, it held a silver pocket watch. The chain was hidden through a small slit beneath it, wrapped perfectly underneath the cushion the watch sat on, and Viktor looked like he was going to melt as he picked it up. 

He pressed a little button on the top and the front sprung open. He glanced at you with a curious expression before holding it up to his ear. 

“It’s unfixable according to the seller,” you whispered as you watched the realization dawn on Viktor. “Told him I knew someone who would take that challenge with a smile.”

Viktor lowered the watch and turned it over, carefully gathering the chain and twisting it around his fingers. He truly melted when he saw the back. A few of the runes he’d discovered work with the hex crystals were engraved in diamond with one in the center. 

“He engraved it for free when I told him who I was bringing it to.” You found yourself turning the ring on your middle finger until the metal was warm from the friction. “Although, I did pick the design, so I hope it’s something you—oh.”

Viktor’s arms were around you. You laughed a little as you returned the hug, hugging his lean frame as tight as you could as he let out a somewhat shuddered breath. 

"Thank you," he whispered next to your ear, but he didn't pull back. "Truly. This is…"

“I figured the ‘having to fix it’ caveat was enough of a loophole to claim it wasn’t a gift. So, technically, I’m not breaking the rule.” You idly played with the ends of his hair to give your hands something to do so you didn’t fidget. “That counts, right?”

Viktor pulled back, and his eyes were a bit red as he chuckled and held up the watch. 

“It is a spectacular ‘non-gift.’ Thank you.” His voice broke as he looked down at it. “I am sorry, I do not…I do not have anything to reciprocate with.”

"No, Vik." You reached out as he sat the box down on the coffee table. "It's not about that. I don't expect anything in return at all. I was just out browsing stuff when I saw it, and the guy was talking to me about it, and I just kinda…I knew I had to get it for you."

You very tentatively moved your hand from his wrist to his hand. The intention was a bit blurred as you carefully settled your hand atop his, giving him a light squeeze, and smiled at him. The desperation for him to know that he didn't need to give you anything in return was a little heart-stopping, and you ran through whatever options you could think of to hammer that idea home. 

“Seriously, Vik. Just having you in my life is gift enough.” You squeeze his hand again. “You owe me nothing.”

Viktor stared down at your hand, and you felt his start to shake beneath it. You'd had physical contact before, but as you felt his hand shake, part of you was regretting the choice. The last thing you wanted was to make Viktor uncomfortable. Crossing a line when you were already doing so with the gift was not what you'd intended and you held your breath as you slowly started to move your hand back to your lap.

You gave him a soft smile as you flattened out your bottoms and started to stand. Overstaying your welcome was also on the list of no-gos you were trying to avoid. And with the continued silence, it felt like you were. 

Except you only made it to the part where you put your hands on your knees before Viktor's hand was on your wrist. His mouth was pressed into a fine line, and you stopped the instant you looked at him. There was always a lot happening in his head—from work to pleasure—but this time, it looked like he was untangling a heap of lights that'd been long tangled together. 

And then he moved. 

It was hesitant, and his hand visibly trembled, but you stayed totally still as he reached for your cheek. His jaw clenched before he let out a shaky breath, and you pushed your spiked adrenaline and surprise aside and helped him. Silently prayed that you hadn't completely misread Viktor's intentions as you scooted closer and smiled, leaning in as he did.

You caught the pale pink spreading over him before your eyes fluttered shut and his mouth pressed to yours. 

His hand twitched on your cheek and you held back your excitement as you reached up and put yours over his. Held it there with a tender hold as you kissed him back. Soft and sweet, nervous and tentative as Viktor’s hair tickled your forehead. His nails dug slightly into your skin when he realized you weren’t pulling away or shoving him back, and he gained a bit more confidence as you reached up and slid a hand over his chest, shoulder, and up to his neck. 

He tasted like cinnamon and vanilla, but you hadn't noticed any cookies or baked goods when you came in. No coffee or tea, either. And he smelled like a goddamn bakery. Usually, that was left as an undertone to what you could only describe as metal, sparks, and literal magic itself. 

But the tender touch of Viktor’s mouth on yours was more like magic than the hex crystals themselves. 

You would’ve damn well gone a lot farther, too, as Viktor’s tongue grazed your bottom lip, but it was like that triggered a response in him and he pulled back. He was panting as he kept his eyes fixed on your chest, the hand still holding the pocket watch coming up and the tips of his fingers touching his mouth. 

He was bright red as he smiled and forced his eyes up to yours. 

“I…”

“That was a hell of a gift,” you said with a wide grin. “Shit, Vik. Way to one-up me.”

Viktor’s exhale came with a laugh and he seemed to visibly relax. You threw up your hands and sat back, shaking your head. 

“You know, I was so excited and worried about whether you’d like your gift—excuse me, ‘non-gift.’ And then you just one-up me so easily.” You scoffed and tried to keep a straight face, but your grin came through without a fight. “That’s mean.”

“My apologies,” he murmured with such a small smile that it was your turn to melt. 

“So, is that the gift you give everyone or…” You motioned to yourself.

“No.” His eyes fell to the watch as he turned it over in his hands. “I do not give gifts to anyone else.”

“Damn, Vik.” You nudged his shoulder playfully. “Giving out such a special gift and you said you didn’t have anything to give me.”

“So that…was okay?” He peered up at you with wide eyes, his mouth pressed into a worried line, and you contemplated reaching across and shaking his shoulders and yelling yes. “I…did not…I do not wish to compromise our current relationship—”

“Vik,” you murmured and reached over, taking his hand. “It was more than okay. I promise.”

You leaned over and dropped your head against his shoulder. His arm moved as you pulled it to your chest and hugged it. 

"Seriously. Really, really okay." You pursed your lips. "Although I think Jayce might be a little jealous that I got such a spectacular gift, and he didn't get anything.”

It took a moment, but when Viktor gradually moved and leaned his head against yours, you nearly cheered. Of all potential outcomes for the evening, this had been so far down on the list that it was categorized under the 'impossible fantasies' heading. Awkward rejection of the gift or simply disliking it—those were what you expected. Maybe a simple thank you and a reminder to not break the rule again, but not this. 

Not an ‘impossible fantasy’ level reaction. 

“I, uh…” Viktor reached down and intertwined his fingers with yours. “I am making tea and going over some of my old research. Do you want to stay? I would love the company.”

You technically had more to do that night since you hadn’t expected any outcome where Viktor asked you to stay. But you damn well weren’t going to say no. Not after that—not when you picked your head up and you caught Viktor’s focus dropping back down to your mouth. 

“I’d love to stay,” you murmured with a smirk. 

“Wonderful.” Viktor bit his lip before giving your hand a squeeze. 

You watched with masked glee as he swapped the pocket watch for his cane and stood. He slid his tie off and dropped it to the table before going into the small kitchen all dorms had and put on the kettle, moving with the same ease he had in the lab whenever you worked together. 

You grabbed his little throw blanket and pulled it over your lap, getting comfortable as you watched him work. Your lips still tingled from his, and you were already missing the warmth from his hand on your cheek. Something you hoped would be repeated upon your staying—something you hadn't even thought conceivable with Viktor outside of a few unpoliced thoughts and fantasies when working alongside him. 

Yeah—you nodded to yourself and grinned as Viktor grabbed two mugs and peered back at you with that tiny smile. 

You’d definitely made the right call in deciding to break the rule this year.  

if i could tell you

synopsis. you sometimes wonder why out of all people, your best friend with such charming looks and personality has been single all his life: why no one ever tries to go for him or why he never seems to be interested in any romantic relationships — it’s strange. but never has it occurred to you that maybe why ushijima isn’t so keen with dating others is only because he already has his hindsights on someone. and that someone? hint, hint. it’s you. 

pairing. ushijima wakatoshi x female reader word count. 10.1k genre. childhood friends to lovers au, slow burn, fluff, a liddol bit of angst, jock x cheerleader trope, college au, hopeless pining authors note. as you can see, the reason why i haven’t been publicly simping over ushijima for the past few weeks is because ive been doing it here in this fic. pretty self indulgent i should say, anyways ill keep this note short and further explain my thoughts in the end notes. enjoy!

There are certain moments in life that Ushijima sentiments among all others, either it be the smallest actions he can’t help but to remember or the ones that made him grow to be the person he is now, a common factor they all have revolving around you. No matter the circumstance, either it be from the simplicity or extravagance of actions, it’s a feeling he still struggles to get accustomed to. To him, loving you is placing his entire heart in your bare hands, trusting you that you won’t break it and waiting for the exact moment you’ll realize it’s a gift worth treasuring. 

He’s pretty sure he felt such emotions for you because he loved you platonically. After all, a person like you who wears her heart on her sleeve, willing to give it to anybody, it’s no doubt people will harbor a soft spot for you. Just like Ushijima, other people find comfort from your acts of kindness, something they no doubt can cause a smile in their day. 

But much to his dismay, Ushijima felt something more. It’s the carefree, lovely demeanor that keeps him up his toes and a particular feeling well up his chest. Those feelings ended up blooming faster than his mind could catch up to and now he’s terrified.

He’s terrified of the fact that he might be in love with you.

Keep reading

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!!

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.”