Hi I’m @curseofaphrodite and this is my second account where I reblog fics I’ve loved. I write okay fics too so if you wanna check em out, go through my main blog!
fic recs list [ vol i | vol ii | vol iii ] | to be read fics
I’ll mainly reblog swoon-worthy fics and make it easier for others to find.
Note that this is my secondary blog, meaning I won’t be able to follow you through here.
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How do you find a particular character?
If you’re on PC, go to this link. It’s the easiest one and you’ll get whichever character you’re looking for.
Or if you’re using phone, search: #ashrecs: [character name] in my dashboard view. You can find some tags attached below this post.
PLEASE GIVE US MORE BYERS!READER FICS THEYRE SO GOOD!!
jealous type ⋆˚꩜｡
mike finds out byers!reader is seeing someone and does not take it well. jealous!mike, kinda angsty
part of my byers!reader series which is in no particular order so this can be read as a standalone! i kinda want to make a pt 2 to this so lmk if anyone would be interested. pls send requests my asks are open!!!!
ib @curseofaphrodite ’s “dumb and dumber” which was sooo good one of my fav mike fics.
the hawkins high cafeteria was hot and stuffy despite the drab november air outside them. seated at their usual table, lucas, dustin, will and mike poked around at the mush served onto their lunch trays; some weird blend of artificial mashed potatoes and freeze dried meat, the towns military control evident on each of their servings.
mikes fork dropped with a sigh, immediately the boys knew it was not due to their paté like meals. craning his neck, he searched the cafeteria for their missing member. “think she’ll be O-for-four today?” he’d been trying to sound funny but the comment came out almost pathetic. the she in question had been missing more and more of their group lunches, nothing crazy maybe one to three a week max, but it had gotten just slightly (very) too consistent for mikes liking. “relax dude, you act like she’s not living in your basement” lucas replied, taking a sip of his chocolate milk to wash down the unfortunate lunch.
mike pouted, inadvertently, and just as he was about to accept defeat, she walked in; curls bouncing, her small locket glimmering under the cafeteria lighting, and carrying a familiar green tray that somehow managed to look appetizing in her hands. she spotted them, mike first, and gave a head nod their way as she walked over after waving goodbye to the blonde girl walking next to her that mike didn’t recognize. she smiled as she got closer, and put a finger up to her lips as she snuck up behind dustin before grabbing his shoulder and shouting a small “boo!” making the boy jump in fear.
“god you menace! you’re gone the whole week and come back meaner than ever!” she giggles at dustin’s joke before sliding in between his and will’s seat, facing mike and lucas. “ha-ha you know you missed me dusty-poo” she jokes back,“where you been anyway?” mike asks, not as nonchalant as he meant to. “out with d-1 daniel i hear” lucas chimes in with a smirk before y/n even had a chance to answer. immediately, her head snaps to face will, “what the hell will! you told them?” will denies it immediately, “no oh my god i swear i didn’t-“ lucas cuts the boy off before his sister can turn him to stone, “he didn’t im on the basketball team remember? daniel’s been telling the whole locker room and anyone else that’ll listen that he’s back with the ‘byers babe’”
immediately, she groans. boys and their inabilities to keep their word, “oh my god, okay well we’re not” it’s not convincing enough and mike is just about seething on the cafeteria stool. daniel was y/n’s ex, who he of course had never liked. he was one those ‘tease the girl to show her you like her’ types. mike thought she would never go for someone like him, and yet summer of ‘85 when he was running around with el, y/n was running around with daniel. they broke up when the byers moved to lenora, and in their time away daniel had gotten exceptionally good at basketball, earning him the “d-1 daniel”title. the boy was the talk of the team so of course his newfound popularity would lead him back to y/n, much to mikes annoyance. “where did you even find the time to go out with him” he asks, the sass in his voice growing with each word.
she had been avoiding his gaze, looking at anyone at the table but mike until he said this. the nerve he had never failed to shock y/n to her core. “what’s that supposed to mean” her tone isn’t angry per say, but the boys know her and could tell she was getting dangerously close. “you know i just mean you’re busy- we’re busy! you know with crawls and stuff and- and you have your student rally club! you’re at meetings like three times a week i’m just saying you’re busy you know?” he’s rambling now, y/n would find it cute if he wasn’t irritating her. “we have a student rally club?” dustin interrupts with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “yeah? it’s where y/n/n’s at for half of the week?” mike answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, the rest of the table is oddly silent, looking around at each other like they’d been caught.
“oh my god” the realization is dawning on him now, “OH MY GOD DO WE NOT HAVE A STUDENT RALLY CLUB? Y/N DID YOU LIE TO US ABOUT THE STUDENT RALLY CLUB?” lucas is fighting his laugh like a trooper, y/n looks at mike a little dumbfounded. “okay in my defense there’s not much spirit being rallied around the school i thought you would’ve caught on by now.” now mike is starting to get seriously pissed off, he’s sitting there staring at her with his stupid puppy eyes and y/n is starting to feel a little guilty. “im just saying we’d be a really shitty club if we were real” she attempts to joke, but the only laugh she earns is the one lucas had been holding in.
“so you’re not back with daniel?” dustin asks, further instigating. “no! god it was just a couple dates-“ “a couple?” mike loudly interrupts her making everyone go still. the three other boys send each other looks around the table, while y/n bites her inner cheek to regulate and prepare herself for whatever nonsense was about to come out of mikes mouth. “yes mike a couple dates, why is there something wrong with that?” its rhetorical, all the others know that, none of them would ever have the balls to pushback on the girl when she had that look on her face, and yet mike decides to keep going. “so what you’ve just been going out with a bunch of random guys this whole time? new guy every week or how’d it work? now he’d really done it.
will immediately jumps into defense, “mike that’s enough” with lucas following behind him “jesus man what is wrong with you” their tones are heavy with disappointment and shock, wills even carrying anger which was rare for him- especially when addressing mike. but that does nothing for mikes guilt compared to the flash of hurt he saw in y/n’s eyes as soon as the words left his mouth. however the hurt was very quickly replaced with anger, she was never one to stand for disrespect especially coming from a supposed friend. mike was fucked and he knew it.
“what are you calling me a slut?” she said the word like it was laced with layers upon layers of disgust, mike was immediately scrambled. “no- what no! it’s just- i’m just-“ his plan to be nasty to combat whatever jealousy was bubbling up inside him had backfired. “then where the fuck did you pull this idea of ‘random guys’ from?” mike had two choices, accept defeat and save himself from y/n’s wrath, or double down and of course he chose to double down. “im just saying it’s surprising you would focus on your love life when vecna is still out there and were supposed to be looking for him.” she could’ve jumped across the table and strangled him.
the boys refused to make any movements, the pair infront of them forming a bomb ready to explode at any second. “oh yeah like this has anything to do with vecna” the audacity to bring up the evil nether creature that had just about ruined her life astounded y/n, but then again this was mike and he was nothing if not audacious. “yeah it does everything does and you know it- i mean seriously! how are none of you guys mad at this?” he’s addressing the party now, hands flailing and motioning to the girl in front of him like she was an issue needing to be solved. the boys knew not to get involved, even if they did agree with mike no one wanted to be on the receiving end of a y/n byers scolding. despite their lack of support he keeps trying to build his case “i mean come on, she lied to us! she’s been sneaking out to go make out with whoever the fuck while the rest of us sit at home worried about what actually matters”
“excuse me?” they were getting loud now, any louder and the entire cafeteria would be looking at what the table of freaks was up to now. “make out? are you fucking serious wheeler? i go on a couple dates and suddenly im some sort of whore and none of the work i’ve done to help us find vecna matters?” she was furious, and unbelievably hurt. the insinuation that she didn’t care about any upside down business when y/n was the most affected besides will was downright offensive, especially coming from mike. he saw what it was like for her because he was there for her, at her side the entire time, did he truly believe what he was saying despite that fact? “why are you even mad about this wheeler?”
mike had been asking himself the same question. logically he knew y/n wasn’t doing anything wrong, it was him who told will they wouldn’t be relationship-less losers sitting in his basement playing dnd forever, and yet the idea of y/n dating anyone ignited the most intense sense of dread inside of him, one he could only rid by physically expelling it from his chest through rude words laced with intentional violence. the question stumped him, there was no why he just was. “i’m not mad!” he lies instead. “then why are you sitting here yelling at me about dating daniel, i don’t yell at you for dating el!” “im not dating el!” “and im not dating daniel!” “yeah not yet!” god they both wanted to explode.
“woah woah woah woah! everybody pause!” finally someone decided to intervene, it was dustin doing the timeout motion with his hands, successfully getting the pair to shut up. “you” he points at y/n, “you told us from the beginning that you aren’t dating him, we believe you so take a breath” she was about to start arguing on how someone clearly didn’t believe her but dustin was faster. “and you” he points at mike, “you broke up with el?” he asks, this time with a concerned tone. shit in the midst of his meltdown, he’d forgotten it was meant to be a secret.
mike and el tried to make it work once the byers were back from lenora, but they didn’t last long. neither of their hearts were in it, and both knew it. their split was amicable, but the stress of their day to day lives was high enough, and the two didn’t see a reason to burden anyone else with news of their breakup. will of course knew as mikes best friend, but it was easier for the others to think they were okay, hoping that maybe the idea of at least one healthy relationship in the party could give them some sort of comfort. truth be told they didn’t ever really pay the two any mind, but still finding out that they were over like this was slightly daunting.
“um yeah. we have been for a while now” mike says, more relaxed now that his yelling has subsided. the group is silently stunned, with everyone unsure on whether they should comfort the boy or fill the void with humor to continue deescalating the tension until lucas speaks up with a joke, “so is that it then? you’re jealous of y/n getting some cause you aren’t?” it failed, and mike could only sigh. “dude no seriously what is wrong with you” mikes voice is quieter now, and he’s staring at his tray, fork back in hand to play with his now cold mashed potatoes. will is looking at him now, he knew of mikes feelings towards his sister, it was impossible not to. the reason for the boys outburst was due to his unequivocal desire for y/n, that the jealousy was built from years and years of pining, but that was far too much to unpack in a thirty minute school lunch break.
y/n stares at him too, cheeks flushed with the embarrassment of their very public fight now setting in. “i still don’t understand why you’re so mad about this” she’s nibbling on her inner cheek, sitting hunched and playing with her own potatoes. before mike has a chance to answer, robins voice pours out through the radio sitting at the end of their table. the discussion wasn’t over, but diana ross was singing upside down which could only mean one thing. “cancel your date y/n/n it’s crawl time” dustin jokes, head down as he wrote down robins instructions, still irritated and not yet in the mood for jokes, y/n pushes him slightly too hard, sending the boy off the stool.
“sorry” she and him grimaced, while the rest laughed, slowly but surly shaking off the tension. mike caught her gaze, and she instantly looked away. they were in for a long night.
REQUEST → sweet nonny, 2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION
❝ location: work, theme: peril/danger??? but make it flirty perhaps 🤔 trying to keep it interesting for you 😌 • you and steve turn up to work at the squawk and find yourselves in danger, per usual, when someone decides to pay the station a visit during one of the crawls, throwing two desk mates into a very perilous situation ( 2.5K – co-worker!steve harrington x reader exchanging flirty banter while 1000% at risk of being taken prisoner by dr. kay and her goons )
T H E L A T E N I G H T S H I F T
🎵 we didn’t start the fire, billy joel
You watched a Billy Joel record spin circles on the player, the one Steve had begrudgingly handed you a couple of minutes ago when you suggested Rhythm Nation “again” to which he replied “absolutely not” in a particularly bratty tone. Tensions were already sky high, but on crawl nights, they rocketed into space.
“Listen, it’s not that I dislike Janet,” Steve reasoned, back turned to you while he dug through sound effect tapes, “I just don’t feel like it sets the right mood for–”
“–hunting an evil flesh monster?” you deadpanned.
Steve shot you a look.
“Well–yeah. Whatever. I guess,” he sighed, carding a hand through his already messy brown locks, tongue jammed in his cheek and telling you he was stressed.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure him, half-kicking at the leg of the desk and sending your chair spinning in a slow circle. “Hopper’s been extra careful lately.”
Steve hummed low in response, hesitating at your words: extra careful.
Because of El. Because of Dr. Kay. Because of them.
Every single one of those gun-toting goons behind the barbed wire fence of the MAC-Z, frothing at the mouth to be the one to bring her in, to please the doctor.
“Steve?” you asked quieter this time, the bite in your tone fading with the way your friend was staring into space, the recently permanent pinch between his brows.
“What?” came out a gasp as he started, knocking his tapes to the floor, “–shit.”
Rolling your chair over, you leaned down to help pick them up and caught the worry swimming in the green-gold of his eyes. Unlike Steve, you were fairly new to this whole Upside Down, Vecna, Henry, 001 shit, and while the risks were pretty obvious, you hadn’t actually seen anything happen. Not like he had.
Hadn’t beaten a demogorgon with a nail bat, or been chased by demodogs around a junk yard, get drugged by Russians or choked out by flying monsters with fangs. Hadn’t watched your friends suffer like his had. Hadn’t lost someone.
Your fingers bumped into Steve’s as you reached for the last tape at the same time, and he pulled his hand back as if scared to get burned.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“S’okay.”
Picking up the tape, you held it out to him, and he took it quietly, setting it on the top of the stack before sinking down into his chair. He flicked at the records he’d put aside earlier for the queue and distractedly grabbed the one on top.
“Here, before that track finishes.”
You glanced down at the dust jacket and snorted.
“Gloria, huh?”
“Someone’s gotta have fun around here,” he grumbled, but you could hear a tinge of a smile at edge of his voice.
“Okay, party boy,” you teased as he swiveled away from you to hide the way he bit back a laugh. Flicking your mic on, you switched into radio mode, “And now, a pick from my co-host with impeccable taste–get on your feet, people, let’s dance!” Easing the volume down on Billy, you turned Gloria up and spun around to kick your toe into Steve’s sneaker.
“Hm?” he glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and you watched as his pupils dilated, their golden hue swallowed up in black.
“Well? Aren’t you gonna ask me to dance?” you asked simply, brow quirked, and the challenge lit him up.
“Oh,” he scoffed, unable to hide his boyish grin, “Since you asked so nicely.”
“I’m very nice.”
“Mmhm,” he hummed back skeptically, but stood and held out a hand for you.
You don’t remember when it happened, this thing between you and Steve, but it must have started like a small swirl of smoke. A flicker of fire, ember and coals fanned to life by him. The way he cared for his friends like family, how vulnerable he’d become, his dedication and loyalty and persistence to keep trying, keep going, no matter how shitty everything had become.
Steve’s dance moves, however, were something else altogether.
“Jesus–Steve–” you snorted, letting him twirl you around the studio.
“What?” he asked cheekily as he swung you effortlessly in and out before spinning you under his arm. He let you stretch just far enough away that your fingers started to untangle, but then pulled you back into him and your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself.
“Oh,” you murmured, his breath fanning over your cheeks with the quick rise and fall of his chest.
“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing thick, Adam’s apple bobbing under your gaze.
His fingers squeezed at the plush of your hips, hands wide and warm, and it sent your pulse fluttering at your neck.
“Steve?” came out shy, and he nodded dumbly.
“Uh huh?”
“Can I–”
FSSSSSST!
The walkie on your desk scratched loudly, before cutting out and scratching again.
“SQUAWK–COME IN SQUAWK–SHIT’S ABOUT TO GET REAL–”
Erica.
“Jesus Christ–” Steve hissed, scrambling over his chair to get to the walkie as you turned to the window, fingers flicking two of the blind slats open. “Come in?? Hello??” Steve shouted, but he was greeted with silence. “God dammit,” he swore, “Minas Tirith this is Squawk, over!”
“No,” you breathed, eyes glued to the lights coming up the road, “No, no, no, no, no.”
“What is it??” Steve’s voice pitched more and more desperate as he clumsily hopped over the booth to the window.
“We’ve got company.”
Moving over to let him see, his mouth dropped open the minute he realized.
“You gotta be kidding me–” he groaned, stumbling back to the walkie and hitting the call button. “Come in! Anyone??” he pleaded, shooting you a look, eyes wild, “What the hell did Dustin tell us to say??”
You grabbed the walkie, cheeks burning with nerd knowledge, “Gondor calls for aid!” But the proud look Steve gave you after set your heart stuttering in your chest.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
“YOU HAVE 60 SECONDS TO OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE WE BLOW IT OFF THE HINGES!”
“Shit–we gotta go–” Steve grabbed your hand, yanking you through the studio to the supply room and the hidden staircase to the basement. Pushing and pulling, you both managed to yank the old, rickety shelf aside and slip behind it, metal scraping on the concrete as you hurried to put it back in place.
BOOM, CRASH!
“Was that the door–” Steve started, but you pressed your hand to his mouth, silencing him mid-sentence.
“Spread out–two to a room! Cuff and arrest anyone you find! They’re considered to be in direct violation of quarantine law!” a harsh voice barked.
You started to shake, hands trembling and knees quivering, and Steve glanced over at you, brows knitted in the middle. You met his gaze, and he quietly mimed breathing in and out, nodding at you, trying to reassure, It’s okay.
SLAM!
The door to the room smacked against the wall as a soldier kicked it open, and Steve instinctively pulled you into him, arms tight and holding you against his chest, the steady thud, thud, thud of his heart filling your ear.
Recklessly rummaging around the room, the soldier kicked at the filing cabinet with a grunt, knocking it on its side. “This place is a fucking dump,” he muttered to his partner, shining the light at the end of his gun up at the ceiling.
“Complete slobs,” the other man agreed, running a hand along the wall opposite the shelf hiding you from their prying eyes.
And then you felt it before it happened, a twinge at your shoulder, your chest squeezing in on itself, tiny prickles that turned into an almost painful shock of electricity down your arms. Your breath quickened, body shaking against Steve’s.
“CLEAR!” one of the soldiers shouted, and they left the room.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve whispered, voice a rasp from keeping quiet, “Talk to me.”
You swallowed thick, eyes closed against the panic attack still wrecking havoc through your nervous system.
“We’re safe, they’re gone, it’s okay,” Steve tried again, hands soothing gently up and down your arms, but your brain kept you stuck between fight or flight. “Listen, look at me,” he murmured, softly taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Do this with me, hm?”
“Okay,” you stuttered.
“What are five things you can see?” he asked, nodding reassuringly.
“Um–” you swallowed again, tried to get a grip, but your hands were still shaking.
“Shh,” Steve whispered, “What do you see?”
Blinking back tears, you looked around you at the dark dingy stairwell, “Bricks.”
“Good,” Steve smiled, “What else?”
“Uh–light switch.”
“Mmhm.”
“Stairs, railing,” you listed off, feeling your heart cease slamming against your ribcage, your gaze drifting up to look at the boy – the man – with incredible patience. “You,” came out a whisper.
“Hi,” he teased gently, smile growing. “Okay, four things you can touch?”
“Touch,” you echoed, “The floor, my shoes…”
“Good, and?”
“Uh…your shirt,” you said, eyes flicking back up to meet his again, his fingers squeezing at yours. “Your hands.”
“Three things you hear?”
“Humvees,” you murmured, heart skipping in your chest at the thought of the soldiers again and Steve reached up to tuck the stray locks of hair out of your face. “Um–the record,” which was still playing out faintly in the other room, “And your voice.”
“Doin’ great,” he praised, and a flicker of a smile twitched at the corners of your lips. “Two things you smell?”
“Mildew,” you half-laughed at the must of the stairwell, then took in a breath and it caught on the faded scent of Steve’s cologne. “Your cologne,” you admitted, cheeks warming and Steve’s eyes crinkled at how big his smile was.
“Which is good, I hope?” he teased.
You chuckled, “Yes.”
“Last one,” he prompted, your hand still held in his, “One thing you can taste.”
Flicking your gaze up to look at him, you realized the attack had almost fully faded, now just a dull twinge at the edges of your mind. The tingling gone from your arms, pins and needles no longer stabbing at the insides of your limbs. The only thing left was your heart, but it wasn’t racing because you were worried. No. It was because of him. Steve. The way he’d just carried you through one of the worst attacks you’d ever had with empathy, care, concern.
He caught the way you were looking at him, eyes turned gooey around the edges, their usual bright hazel color warmed to caramel and liquid amber. It was his turn to grapple with nerves, a live wire under your gaze, as his thumb absentmindedly swept back and forth over your skin.
Pushing up on your toes, you slowly closed the gap between you, not that there was much of one to begin with, and he didn’t pull away. Chestnut locks fell into his eyes as he tilted his head, leaning into to the way you felt against him, his long brown lashes sweeping over the apples of his cheeks as they fluttered closed, and your lips finally met.
It was soft, curious, searching and easy. His fingers slipped behind your neck, threading between the baby hairs that curled there, and you gasped into him at the feeling of his touch. Warm and slow, cradling you gently and letting you lead. It was faded spearmint gum and aftershave, the sharp scent of the sweat that had gathered on his brow and your perfume. When you pulled away it ached, your heart pleading more, more, more as Steve sighed at the absence of you.
“I taste you,” you whispered, and he gave you a lopsided smile, a little shy and a lot pleased as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“Not how I pictured it…” he huffed through a laugh and your features pulled in confusion.
“Pictured what?”
“Our first kiss,” he admitted, heat blooming from his chest up to the tips of his ears.
“First kiss,” you echoed with a smile, “You were thinking about our first kiss?”
“Is that lame?” he asked, bashful, and you pushed up on your toes again to press a chaste kiss to the soft plush of his lips.
“No.”
“Was gonna try and take you somewhere nice–well–as nice as we could get in a military quarantine,” he joked and it pulled a laugh from you. “Wanted to make you dinner or something. Honestly, anything would’ve been better than hiding in some weird smelly hallway.”
You laughed again, a bright sound Steve wished he could bottle up and keep, and it made him grin.
“Steve! Holy shit–Steve!”
Both of you jumped at the sound of Dustin screeching in the other room.
“Shit, shit, shit–did they get taken??” the boy panicked.
“Calm down, Henderson,” Hopper growled, “Did you check the passageway?”
“Dammit–Steve??”
The sound of Dustin’s sneakers on the floor clambered into the room and the shelf rattled, dumping empty paint cans to the ground as the boy yanked it aside to reveal the two of you, Steve still holding you tight to his chest.
“Oh, thank God you’re okay!” Dustin sighed, throwing his arms around you both in relief.
“Think they’re more than okay,” Hopper frowned and Steve let his hands fall away from you, pressing himself as far away as he could in the small space.
“Yeah, yep! We’re–uh–we’re totally fine,” Steve fumbled.
The older man rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. “Lucky us,” he grumbled, then louder, “Let’s get this place cleaned up! It’s a damn mess.”
“Why didn’t you walkie??” Dustin shoved at Steve, earning him a frown.
“We did!” Steve insisted, “We even said your stupid code about Gordon or whatever.”
“–Gondor,” you corrected and Steve’s expression flattened while Dustin gave you a giant toothy grin.
“You remembered!”
“A little hustle, huh?” Hopper shouted from the other room, “You’ll have plenty of time to nerd out later–get moving.”
Following Steve back out into the room, you grabbed at one of his hand’s, the want to keep touching like fire under your skin, and Dustin waggled his brows at you.
“Smoochin’ in the stairwell,” he grinned, “Nice.”
“Shut up, Henderson,” Steve chirped.
“About time,” Dustin countered, loud enough only you heard, and it made you heart soar.
you'll see me in hindsight tangled up with you all night burning it down
pairing: spencer reid x gn!bau!reader
words: 2.5k
summary: spencer's hindsight is screaming at him that he made the wrong decision by ending your relationship
warnings: angst but like in a hot way, happy ending besties <3 spencer's kind of a dick in this for a little bit (he means well, he's just confused), language, allusions to smut, making out, fluff (?) towards the very end but like you gotta really squint
Spencer fucked up.
He's gripping the sink with both hands, water running down his face as he stares at himself in the mirror. The previous week has been hell, almost, and Spencer knows a thing or two about hell. It was the right thing to do, he thinks to himself, but he can't help the part of him that wonders if that's even true in the slightest. His mind flashes back to that fateful night.
"Spencer, what do you mean 'we can't do this anymore?'"
"Us. This!" he said, wildly gesturing to the space between you.
You stared at him, mouth parted like the words were there, ready to go, but stuck behind disbelief.
"Why?" you asked, quiet. Measured. Already bracing for an answer that would hurt. He hesitated. That was all the confirmation you needed— he didn’t want this either.
"I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending this is okay.”
“What part of this isn’t okay? The part where we care about each other? Or the part where we’re actually happy for once?”
“You don’t get it—”
“No,” you cut in, sharper now. “No, I don’t get it. Please enlighten me.”
Spencer ran both hands through his hair like he was trying to yank the thoughts out by force. “People I care about get hurt. That's just how it goes. You’ve seen what we deal with. You know how dangerous it gets. I can’t— I won’t be the reason something happens to you.”
You blinked. “Spencer, we work the same job.”
“That’s not— it’s different.”
“How?” You're beyond exasperated at this point.
“Because I—" he broke off, breathing hard. “Because I really care about you.”
You laughed, humorless. “Bang-up job of showing it, then. Also, wh— you think I don't care? Spencer, what—”
“I’m sorry,” he said, almost a whisper. “I just… I can’t live with myself if something happens to you. I cannot do this knowing I am actively putting you at risk.”
“Look. I care about you too. You’re the smartest person I know, and I trust your judgment. But if you’re going to sit here and break us apart, then you better have a legitimate reason.” You stepped closer. “Because what you’re giving me right now? It’s bullshit, Spencer. YOu know that. And I’m not going to let you overthink your way into a breakup.”
He looked at you like he wanted so badly to believe you. Like you were the rope dangling over the cliff, and he didn’t trust himself to grab it.
“Yes, we deal with hell on a daily basis,” you continued, softer now, “but we also come home to each other. It's tedious, and awful, and exhausting, but we have each other, Spence. And I—”
You paused. Swallowed hard. Didn’t realize you’d said it until it was already out.
“I love you.”
Silence.
Something cracked in his expression. He looked at you like that was the one thing he wasn’t prepared for. The one thing that might’ve saved him— if he let it. So he did the only thing he knew how to do.
Destroy it.
“I don’t,” he said, voice flat.
You blinked. “Don’t what?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t stutter. Just said it. Like ripping the pin from a grenade and waiting for it to blow.
“I don’t think I love you.”
It didn’t matter what he meant. It didn’t matter if he was lying through his teeth. Because the second you believed him, the second you stepped back and nodded— something broke. The damage was done.
Now he’s gripping the sink like it’s the only thing holding him upright, staring at a reflection that doesn’t look like him anymore.
“I am an idiot,” he mutters to no one. The mirror doesn’t disagree.
He sees you everywhere. On his couch in your pajamas, eating cereal straight from the box. He sees you on the jet, asleep on his shoulder, warm and close and real. He sees the last time you laughed at something he had said. How your head tipped back, how your nose scrunched. He sees your face the first time he kissed you, how your smile made him feel like he was bathing in sunlight.
He sees you and him tangled together in the back seat of his car, your eyes closed and head tilted back as his name falls out of your lips like a prayer. He sees your pile of clothes next to his on his bedroom floor, half forgotten in the haste of needing each other.
He sees you in the faint lipstick smudge still clinging to the collar of his favourite shirt. In the barely-there marks scattered along his neck and chest, fading now but not forgotten. His fingers brush over them without thinking, retracing each one like muscle memory, each a timestamp of a moment he’d give anything to relive. He wonders if you're thinking of him too.
He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and laughs— bitter, breathless.
Yeah. Spencer fucked up big time.
You always thought that even if by some horrible twist of fate, your relationship with Spencer were to end, at the very least it would be amicable. You'd be able to work together, be friends, and still stand to be around each other. You were wrong.
Immediately after the fight last week, you were called to Detroit for a case. There was barely enough time to pack, let alone recover. So, you didn't say anything. Neither did he. To the team, or to each other. It’s easier that way, you thought. The team thinks everything is fine. Business as usual. You’re partnered up for interviews like always. Briefing side by side. Riding in the same car. Sharing a room.
But it's not all okay. It's not all fine, and you know that. He’s quieter than usual. You catch him zoning out in the middle of victim statements. His hands tremble when he thinks no one’s looking. He’s unravelling. And yet, every time you brush past him, he flinches like you’re the one that left.
He still looks at you the same sometimes. Like you’re his. Like you matter. Like nothing’s changed. And that, more than anything, is what hurts. You’re not angry. You’re wrecked. Because you can survive heartbreak. But what he did? That was reckless abandonment. You don’t show someone heaven and then blind them.
Neither of you has had a wink of sleep since then. Even familiar places feel foreign when you're not with each other. What makes it worse is that you're so used to being with and needing each other that it's second nature to you by now. There are absent-minded touches, kisses, lingering hands and eyes that none of you mention.
There’s a moment— small, forgettable to anyone else— when his fingers graze yours as he hands you a case file. It’s nothing. It’s everything. You both freeze. Just for a second. He doesn't look up. Doesn’t say a word. Just retracts his hand like it burned him.
And that’s how it’s been. Every second of this trip. A minefield of almosts. Close calls. Words left unsaid and looks held too long. Lying awake all night in the bed as far away from each other as possible. It's driving you insane. Damn Detroit's winter that makes you crave his warmth. And damn this forced proximity bullshit that the universe has punished you with.
You’re sharing a room, which is objectively a horrible idea, but it would’ve been suspicious to change it last minute. You'd mentally agreed not to bring it up now, so you had to soldier through. At least that’s the excuse you told yourself when you didn't protest. And so now, you’re both here, end of a long day, door shut behind you, silence thick enough to suffocate.
You're sitting on opposite ends of the bed like strangers in a waiting room. You hear him sigh behind you. A long, pained sound. And for the first time since the break, he says your name. It’s soft. Barely above a whisper. But it’s enough.
You turn, slowly. Not because you’re calm, but because you’re not sure what will come out if you speak too fast. He’s standing now, fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Like he doesn’t know what to do with you. His shoulders rise with a breath he never quite finishes.
“I can’t sleep,” he says. “I haven’t. Since that night.”
You stare at him. “Okay.”
"Okay? That's it?"
"What do you want me to do, Spencer? Sing you a lullaby?"
"You know what, forget I said anything."
"Believe me, I'm trying," you say, your voice dripping with contempt. Spencer's face contorts like he's confused.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
“It means,” you say, finally standing too, “that you don’t get to say things like that and expect comfort. You don’t get to crack open this— this door like we’re still something and then slam it shut the second it scares you.”
He flinches.
“You think I’ve been sleeping?” you continue, voice shaking now. “You think I’ve been fine? Because I’ve been trying to be. I’ve been trying to hold it together. But it’s really fucking hard when the person I love tells me he doesn’t love me back and then acts like that never happened.”
He's trying to find the words, he really is, but he can't choose between the part of him that's mad at himself for being an idiot, and the part of him that's mad at you for believing him in the first place. He makes the wrong choice.
“You don't get to say that. You walked away. You believed me when I said I didn’t love you.”
Your laugh is sharp, disbelieving. “Oh, you major fucking hypocrite. I’m sorry— its my fault now? Was I supposed to not believe the man I loved when he looked me dead in the eyes and ripped my heart out?”
He throws his hands up. “I had to! You wouldn’t have walked away otherwise!”
“Yeah? And whose fucking fault is that?”
“Mine! Obviously mine!” he snaps, voice rising. “Is that what you want to hear? That I made a mistake? That I wake up every goddamn day hating myself for it?”
“Oh, poor you!” you shout back. “Waking up alone by choice. Because you couldn’t handle the idea of someone loving you. Spencer Reid— genius, coward, commitment phobe.”
He moves closer, eyes blazing. “Don’t twist this into me being scared of you. I was trying to keep you safe.”
You step forward to match him, nose to nose now. “Did I ask? Did I ask you to keep me safe, Spencer? You don’t get to protect me by abandoning me.”
“Oh, get over yourself—”
“Me? I need to get over myself? Jesus, you're so full of yourself. I can't even believe that I'm entertaining this right now."
"Nobody's making you stay. Door's right there."
"You know what, Spencer? Fuck you,” you snap.
“Fuck you.”
You let out a bitter laugh and shove his shoulder. “Bold words from someone who doesn’t even have the balls to tell his girlfriend that he fucking hates her!”
“WHEN did I say that I hated you?” he roars, hands shaking now. “I never said that. I love you! Jesus Christ, of course I love you!”
You stare at him, heart pounding in your throat.
“Then do something about it, you moron.”
And he does.
He grabs your face like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth and kisses you so hard it knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s angry and desperate and messy, like trying to glue a shattered heart back together with nothing but skin and breath. Your hands fist into his shirt like you’re trying to tear it off or hold him closer, maybe both. Neither of you knows how to be gentle about it.
"You're an idiot," you mumble between kisses.
"Good, we're on the same page."
Your back hits the dresser with a dull thud, and neither of you flinch. His hands are everywhere— on your waist, your hips, sliding under the hem of your shirt like he can’t get close enough fast enough. His mouth moves from yours to your jaw, down your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses that make your knees threaten betrayal.
He finds that spot just behind your ear, the one he knows drives you crazy, and lingers there like a punishment. No, like an apology. You gasp, hand tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging just hard enough to make him groan.
He is whispering apologies, begging for your forgiveness as he unravels you, his breath warm against your skin.
“Sorry’s not gonna cut it,” you whisper, voice already unsteady as you pull him back to your mouth. “You need to make it up to me.”
“I will,” he promises, between kisses that are more like confessions than contact. “I will. I swear to God, I will.”
And he did. Multiple times that night. For the first time in a long time, both of you slept. Not just passed out from exhaustion, but real, peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. The kind that only comes when the weight has finally lifted.
You woke up tangled in each other, your head tucked under his chin, his arm tight around your waist like he still didn’t quite believe you were there. He kissed your forehead before either of you said a word.
The case wrapped itself up faster than expected after that. Something about sleep and not repressing your feelings— radical concepts, really. You and Spencer cracked the final piece during the afternoon briefing, and the rest of the team rallied around the lead like clockwork. It felt good to feel like yourselves again. Felt even better not to pretend anymore.
You’re on the jet heading home, fingers loosely intertwined beneath a shared blanket when Emily strolls past and pauses in front of your seat. Her smirk is practiced. Lethal. Oh, this can't be good.
“I was in the room next to yours,” she says, casually. “I heard screaming. Was gonna knock, actually, see if everything was okay.”
Spencer tenses beside you.
Emily raises a brow. “But then the screaming turned into a, uh, different kind of screaming.”
“Oh my God,” you mutter, burying your face in your hands.
“Anyway,” she grins, completely unbothered. “Glad you two worked it out.”
She pats Spencer on the back as she leaves. You and Spencer look at each other, mortified and emotionally prepared to change your identities and leave the country. He leans in to whisper something.
"Worth it."
a/n: wildest dreams og version does something to me man istg, song of all time <3 also I have been sitting on this fic for a while not knowing how to end it so I apologize if it's ass, I've been trying to experiment with writing different POVs and gender neutral reader, I'm tagging this as gn!reader, but I'm so sorry if I've accidentally implied that the reader is female 🫂
Hey!! Can I get D11 with Kaz Brekker, please? Thank you!!
Prompt: D11. Books
TWO FOOLS
When Kaz had suddenly invited you to one of the warehouses he owned that morning, you didn’t really know what to expect. Jesper joked that if he didn’t know it was Kaz, it’d sound like he’s going to propose to you. And to be honest, that’s what crossed your mind too first. But you had only been properly together for a few months, surely he wouldn't ask you anything like that, at least not yet. And you hadn’t actually agreed to date, Kaz wasn’t that kind of person who would actually call himself your boyfriend or ask you to date him. It was enough that you knew he loved you. You had been friends since little kids, you had first met him before the whole Jakob Hertzoon-Pekka Rollins case. Jordie had liked you and teased Kaz who apparently had formed a crush on you from first sight.
But getting to this position, actually knowing he loved you and was devoted to you was a whole different story. Kaz showed little gestures of affection every once in a while, but he had turned oddly secretive the moment you told him that there’s a bunch of books that you’d like to read but you either can’t find them anywhere or can’t afford them. And now, a few days from that, Kaz had left you a note, slid it under your door. Meet me at the warehouse I acquired recently, the one that’s two streets from the Slat.
But when you made your way to the warehouse Kaz had pointed you to, the sight that greeted you when he opened the door left you speechless.
Books. A whole library of them. Different sections, genres, sorted out by author. Some shelves were still empty, but others were full to the brim. At the empty wall, there was a large couch and one of Kaz’s treasured DeKappels hanging over it. Or it was likely a replica because he would never let a DeKappel out of his sight for long periods unless it was in his office. But even so, Kaz doing that all by himself would have taken weeks.
You gaped at the sight for a moment longer before you turned to look at Kaz, who had a small smirk on his face. “How did you–”
“I used a few favors. People were happy to pay their debt off by… donating to this and working with transforming this old place. It was leaking and it also was freezing, so I hired a few Fabrikators to make sure this stays warm and they consulted a Tidemaker to help make sure the roof no longer leaks.” He cocked his head, running his hand over one empty shelf, frowning at the dust on his glove. “I thought I made it clear this should be clean enough to see your reflection, but there’s always some idiots who don’t listen. I will call them back later. But otherwise it’s yours to use.”
You felt like kissing him and you would have, if your relationship was in that stage. “This all just for me? You did this all for… just me?”
He didn’t look at you, letting his eyes wander around the space, clearly proud of his little surprise. “You and anyone you decide to bring here.”
“Kaz, I…” You turned to him, your eyes still wide. “This is probably the nicest and the most romantic thing someone has ever done for me.”
His eyes flickered to you briefly, and he grunted. “I realised that a… relationship like ours needs me to contribute too and not just you.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “Inej told you that, didn’t she?”
He didn’t reply. You heard the leather of his gloves creaking as he adjusted his grip on his cane, before he spoke again. “Most people think I’m a rotten case.”
You huffed. “You’re not.”
“You’re a fool for actually believing that.”
“That makes us two fools, then.”
Kaz fell silent again, and you stepped closer, fiddling with his sleeve. “But you’re my favourite fool.”
He didn’t reply again, but you knew what he wanted to say from the way he looked at you.
And you are mine.
You knew he wasn’t ready for such endearments spoken out loud, but you knew how he felt about you. You weren’t a heartender, nor were you any other kind of a Grisha, but you just understood each other that way.
And you were perfectly fine with that. Because what you had was special.
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Hello! So I've been reading a lot of your works *cough* mainly Kaz and Pin *cough* and I was wondering if I could request one? If so, A6 from your dialogue prompt list with Kaz Brekker. Have a great day <3
Prompt: A6. “Ugh, people are so weird.”
A/N: I still can't look at him without remembering I actually have HUGGED that man and I get to do it once more in two months I-
RUMOUR TOLD ME
Ketterdam, in its darkness and grimness, was the last place Kaz would expect to find someone like you. You, a cheery, warm person who believed all people were good unless proven otherwise. And even working with the Dregs hadn’t wiped that attitude off you, which had always puzzled Kaz. And maybe it was the way you always saw the good in everyone was what made him develop feelings for you. Or rather, as he convinced himself, he was maybe slightly interested, but not necessarily romantically.
Either way, he treated you like he had always treated you, as another Crow, and he thought everyone else thought so too. And maybe that’s why it was so shocking when you came to the Slat one day, laughing as you slid to sit at the bar counter, one stool away from Kaz.
He stared at you for a moment, and you locked eyes with him. “I just heard the funniest thing.”
“Can’t wait to hear it,” Kaz mumbled, glancing at the barkeeper who immediately started preparing a drink for him.
“There’s a rumour circling around that Kaz Brekker has a crush,” you snickered, and Kaz immediately froze. “And the crush being me. Ugh, people are so weird.”
A short silence descended upon you, and your giggling echoed in Kaz’s mind.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Get it together, Brekker.
“And you find it funny?” Kaz grumbled, which earned a frown from you.
“Well, we are complete opposites. I mean, I guess people who sent this rumour going are probably avid romance novel readers whose favourite trope is ‘opposites attract’ but I have no idea what kind of drink they took to get themselves so drunk that they spun out this kind of theory.” You shrugged, gesturing to the barkeeper to prepare a drink for you too.
Kaz scowled. “Those kinds of rumours should be cut off before they have a chance to fly.”
You laughed. “Oh come on Kaz, it’s just some children spinning stories for their entertainment, it won’t hurt anyone.”
Kaz almost barked at you, telling you that children of Ketterdam should know better than joke with things like that before someone teaches them what it’s like to lose the fun in their life forever, but he held himself back. His mind momentarily filled with pictures of what could happen if the wrong kind of people found out about that rumour and believed it. You’d disappear and eventually come back to the Slat, carried by Matthias, with a knife in your heart, your body already cold, eyes open, beginning to rotten, your mouth opened in an eternal scream–
Kaz shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about that scenario.
“Rumours are dangerous,” he said, leaning towards you slightly. “Even ridiculous ones.”
You scoffed, waving your hand. “I know, but no one is going to believe something like that.”
Kaz withdrew, taking his cane and gripping the silver crow head. He wanted to tell you you’re off duty for a while. He wanted to claim he needed help in office work, which would bind you into Slat for a few weeks. He wanted to find whoever is spreading this rumour and warn them off, threaten them. Maybe even break their legs to ensure they won’t sing about it.
But even if that would work, and Kaz knew it would, it could be a sign that the rumour actually had truth to it. It would make him look weak, even if that person would never tell about his visit.
You got the drink and downed it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, before you looked at Kaz again. “Do you have any tasks for me? If not, Inej said she’d like to have company when she goes to run an errand but if you have something more important to do, I’ll pass on that.”
Kaz clenched his jaw, staring at his still full glass of kvas. “No.” Be careful.
You nodded and disappeared to the crowd, and Kaz told himself to not look at you walking away. And as soon as your steps faded, he downed the drink and stood up, making his way to the attic. He needed to take his mind off of… this, whatever it was.
But of course, on his way, he came across Jesper waiting by Wylan’s door, spinning his other revolver. Kaz already saw from Jesper’s grin what he was going to say, that he had also heard the rumours. “Hey, Boss. Word is you’ve got a crush on our Sunshine the Second.”
Kaz cocked an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think that?”
Jesper stopped spinning his revolver and shrugged. “Well. It’s been obvious for all of us for a while. I suspected it, so I told Nina, and she listened to your heartbeat while our star Sunshine was around, and–”
“And nothing,” Kaz barked. “Whatever you have heard or understood, is not true.”
Jesper cackled, and Kaz wanted nothing more than to stuff the handle of Jesper’s beloved revolver into his throat at that moment. But it was more because he realised everyone knew. His Crows, at least, knew.
When Jesper stopped cackling, his tone was more serious. “But hey, I understand that this… thing isn’t a good thing to be circling around. If you want some of us to go uh, find out who put the rumour to circle in the first place, just tell us.” He winked. “And of course, no telling your beloved.”
Kaz thought, staring at Jesper. He wanted to keep denying it, tell Jesper everyone are idiots, doubt Nina’s skills as a heartrender. But he knew that nothing would work anymore, everything would just confirm their every suspicion, those that were true and those that were not true.
So he nodded. “Deal with it. Quietly.”
Jesper nodded in return. “Always, boss.”
And when Kaz continued ascending the steps, he could almost hear Jesper’s grin. If there had been some doubt in Jesper’s mind, now there most definitely wasn’t.
Kaz knew that his Crows knowing except for you was miles better than the whole Ketterdam knowing. If everyone knew, or if such suspicions would rise to any extent, they would inevitably eventually go straight to rivaling gangs. And at that point, depending on how stupid they were, they could follow the rumour just in case and ambush you.
They would be stupid because if you were killed by a gang, Kaz wouldn’t rest before each one’s guts had painted every wall of their past territory, but they would also be smart because they’d take away the one thing Kaz truly cared about in this world, and it would be the second time around. Kaz wasn’t sure if he would ever recover, which would potentially make him weak in a way, maybe even suicidal with his hunger for bloodshed. He could be the most feared person in all of Kerch for a few weeks, but constantly throwing himself in situations he could get killed would eventually kill him. It could even be his goal, to die fighting and take as many of his enemies with him before that.
But after those little gossipers would be getting caught and warned off, things would maybe become better, and Kaz would be able to forget about this whole mess.
---
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
🤎 when in doubt, knock out the drive by @curseofaphrodite is packed with chaos and I love it. It's a Tasm! Peter Parker x Reader and it's about them being the #1 duo. I am a sucker for chaotic friendships and you MUST to check this one.
🤎 avengers reacting to reader eating a whole lemon by @mattymattymerduck also brought in a few chuckles from me. You can already guess from the title what it's already about. It's more of a drabble than a fanfic but still very good.
🤎𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 by @tomsparkyr. This one made me blush and smile throughout the story. It's also a Tasm! Peter and the story setting is in no way home. This one was cute and fluffy and I love fluffy fics.
🤎secret language by @waitimcomingtoo. This one. I was NOT prepared for the ending. This is an mcu! Peter x mute! reader and the story was just 🤌. This fic made me cry and I LOVED the relationship between the two.
🤎First Word by @nikoruistyping. Omg, this one was also so good. This is an Andrew Garfield fic and it's about him and the reader having a baby. It's all when they were expecting their baby to speak. And when she did the two rejoice and celebrated almost too much and then they look at the baby and she's like 🤨.
🤎 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 by @iloveinej. Cute. That's what I would describe this fic in one word. It's a Steve Rogers fic and the trope would be the one bed trope. Normally, I don't like this trope but THIS ONE is an exception.
🤎Society says by @invisibleanonymousmonsters. I ADORED this. This is also another Steve Rogers fic and this one is for the tall girlies and they don't get enough love in the fanfic world. Don't miss out on this one.
🤎eerie psychic abilities by @mediocre-daydreams. This one was just pure Crack and I LOVE those types of fics. This is mcu! Peter Parker fic and the reader with mind reading abilities. Throughout the whole fic it's just peter trying to hide his alter ego from the reader all the while she already knows and it's just so good.
🤎Lingering by @someplace-darker. This is a Matt Murdock fic and it's filled with soft fluffiness. It was cute and made my heart melt! like it's so perfect just what I needed.
A click of a cane and a rough jab on your side woke you up, the faint light from the kitchen barely illuminating Kaz. You sat up slowly, fiddling with your hands.
“Will… will you help me?” you murmured, and he took in a deep sigh, clenching his jaw as he looked up.
“My Wraith told me there’s a job,” he said slowly. “A dangerous job that could kill us, but that would bring us a million kruge. To test your loyalty, you will accompany us to that job.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “What kind of job?”
“Will you take it or not?” he retorted, placing his cane in front of him.
You let out a breath, nodding. “As I said, I’ll do anything to get rid of Pekka.”
He stared at you for a moment, and then, a faint nod rocked his head. “We will leave soon, as soon as I figure out how. Come.”
You nodded, standing up from the bed. “Of course, Mr. Brekker.”
You walked to the Crow Club in slight rain, Kaz looking over to you as you groaned and shifted your hand to clutch your ribs. You were pretty sure your father’s men had broken something - not that it was necessarily a bad thing, considering what Kaz next said. “I will get a healer for you before we leave.”
Your eyes widened slightly, before you nodded. “Thank you.”
This was going to be easier than you thought.
—
The light at the office flickered a few times as you entered Kaz’s office, and he went straight to the back wall to peer out to the Club main area, before taking off his coat. “There’s an alleged Sun Summoner.”
You stared at him for a moment, your lips parting. “A… Sun Summoner?”
“Alleged. There’s a man named Dreesen, who will pay a million kruge if we get her and bring her to him.”
“You mean, kidnap her?”
Kaz turned around, eyeing you from under his eyebrows before he took out a golden pocket watch, looking at it. “No, we offer her a cup of the finest Ravkan tea and carry her on a golden throne through the Fold.”
You huffed. “Okay, then what?”
Your eyes met again. A flash of a memory ran through your mind again as you looked into his dark eyes.
“Remember, don’t get attached, we’re going to pluck them,” your father’s voice echoed in your head.
You shook your head slightly, blinking your eyes. Probably a flicker of a dream you saw before you got woken up?
Then, Kaz's voice penetrated your haze again, “Failure is not an option. Your father is also after this job. If you stay loyal to me during this job, if there won’t be any tricks - I will make an alliance with you.”
He had turned back to the hatch, looking down at the club again. Customers were loud, their talking and cheers faintly echoing through the office.
“Good,” you nodded. “I’ll prove my worth to you.”
A creak. Kaz's eyes shifted to the doorway, before he sighed and picked up his cane. He glanced at you. "Leave."
You stood up, taking a few steps towards the hallway before you heard a clink, and the air stood still. You turned around to see three of your father's goons standing in front of Kaz, and the moment you turned around, one of them, Riagan, growled at you.
"Who do we have here? Our little traitor," he snarled, taking a few steps towards you.
You weren't sure if he knew what was the real deal - Riagan had never been a good actor, but he was great at fighting. A huge man, barely fitting from doorways - you had suspected he was half Fjerdan since you first met him. If he was acting, he had exceeded himself, but you couldn't take risks.
You had agreed with your father that only a couple of his most trusted men would know you were sent to assassinate Kaz, the ones who had beaten you up. Otherwise, it would be too much of a risk - Riagan most likely didn't know.
So you smirked at him. "So, you've heard about it."
"That you're no longer one of us? Yeah. I heard. Didn't think you'd turn into Brekker's bitch, though," he growled and on that moment, the two men attacked Kaz and before you could lunge in to "help", you were snatched by Riagan, making you cry out as he pulled your arm behind you until you felt your shoulder pop out of its socket - even if you would have managed to fight his grip, even if you were trying to actually fight him, there was no way you'd be able to get yourself free while not getting yourself detained again, unless you wanted to receive permanent damage for your shoulder.
Kaz trashed and a chair got knocked over, before he stilled, seemingly admitting his defeat at that point.
Then, your father walked in, offering a mocking smile. "Evening."
Kaz's body twitched slightly at the sight of your father, and you scoffed. "Evening, papa."
Your father lifted his eyes to you, and you knew he felt triumph, seeing you there - in Kaz's office, detained, in your role. He let out a long breath. "So you ran to Brekker. Hm. Disappointing."
You craned your neck towards him. "Not as disappointing as you."
He narrowed his eyes at you, before turning his eyes to Kaz. "Mr. Brekker, is it?"
Kaz spoke then, his voice strained and slightly shaking. "You're a long way from home."
Your father smiled. "Am I? Like you were earlier. Taking that Grisha from the Orchid."
Kaz spoke again. "The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf."
"It's a new acquisition," your father smiled again. "Now."
Harris passed Kaz's cane to your father, and Kaz trashed around again - but was quickly detained by Harris, who took him by his vest. Kaz's breath hitched as he sank lower on his knees as he immediately stopped moving, and you frowned slightly at it. You'd think he'd try a little harder.
"I know you saw Dreesen," your father said, leaning on Kaz's cane. "You got whatever job he has. I don't know the details, obviously… but you will give the job to me. You will forget about it, walk away from it."
Kaz stared at your father silently, and you could almost see the air crackling around him from all the hate he carried.
There was definitely something personal. Something you had to dig up.
"The other option is," your father continued, "that I will cave your head in with your own cane and throw you into the canals - let your new girlfriend here watch as you drift away to the sea. A fair deal, isn't it?"
He placed the cane on the desk, before meeting your eyes for a moment. "I'm very disappointed in you, you had big potential."
You scoffed. "For what? Serving Alby? Being the torture lady at the basement?"
He paused as you mentioned Alby, but you knew he figured out that it was part of your plan after a fraction of a second. "Feared. Respected. But now, instead, you will be forgotten, along with Kaz. Hmm," he sighed, turning to his men. "Let's go."
"Tell me," Kaz suddenly said. "Have we made a deal before?"
Your father frowned, and then shook his head. "You and me? Nah. Otherwise you'd know better. Or you'd be dead."
Then, he turned again, waving his hand. Riagan pushed you on the ground and Harris let go of Kaz, and you groaned as your injuries protested. You placed your arm between the desk and the wall, and forced yourself to push forward. You let out a cry of pain as your shoulder returned to its socket with a sickening crack, and then saw Kaz on the ground on all fours, breathing heavily.
This could be a great chance, you thought as you eyed the cane on the desk. A hit on his head. Digging the beak of his cane into his skull. Cave his head in, like your father had just said.
But something in your gut told you not to do it. You just watched Kaz whimpering there, and a strange feeling washed over you.
Too much of a risk, you then decided and picked up his cane, placing to his side, leaning against the desk instead.
You licked your lips. "Are you okay, Mr. Brekker? Do I need to fetch someone?"
He didn't reply at first, and you heard him swallow. Twice. Thrice. Then he opened his mouth, his voice coming out as strained and shaky. "Leave."
You nodded, turning on your heel and stepping out of his office - the club silencing once again when people saw you. You saw the Wraith and the Sharpshooter - Inej Ghafa and Jesper Fahey their names were - standing in front of the bar counter. The Sharpshooter spotted you and nudged the Wraith, pointing towards you. She, too, turned to look at you and you three stared at each other for a moment, before the Wraith got handed a letter and she made a prompt leave from the club. You contemplated for a moment, but then slowly made your way to the bar counter and sat one tool apart from Jesper.
He just stared at you, his brows furrowed tightly as he watched you order a drink. The bartender eyed you for a moment, but then complied. Kaz had probably told everyone that you’re not a threat at the moment.
Then, Jesper opened his mouth. "Is it true you're the Blood Princess? The Blood Princess? And not a copycat?"
You glanced at him and shrugged. "I don't go by that name anymore."
He laughed, but his laugh wasn't a happy one, it was more like one of disbelief. Something between a snort and a huff. "And Kaz, he's hiring you? To snatch the Sun Summoner?"
You received a drink and nodded at the bartender, before downing it. You then slowly turned to Jesper. "Yes."
He snorted. "Unbelievable."
“Why?”
He shook his head, turning his eyes away from you and ordering another drink by a flick of his hand. “After all Pekka put Kaz through, he’s hiring you. Pekka’s daughter.”
“I want to get rid of Pekka just as much as he does, I just don’t know his reasons for it,” you sighed, trying to keep frustration off your tone. “Pekka killed my parents, my real parents. I need him to pay.”
Jesper narrowed his eyes at you and apparently didn’t even notice the bartender pushing the shot in front of him. Then, he shrugged. “Well. Kaz always knows what he’s doing, so…”
You both sat there in silence for a moment, before you glanced towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office. “What did Pekka do to him?”
Jesper shook his head. “He doesn’t talk about it. All I know was that he was younger when it happened, and it was something really bad and his hate has been building up all these years. He's been obsessed with taking Pekka down for all these years when I’ve known him. But he’d probably have my head for telling you about it if I knew more… he doesn’t trust you, in case you haven’t noticed.”
You huffed, a small smile appearing to your lips. “Yeah. I’ve noticed. I hope to prove my worth to all of you during the job.”
Jesper looked at you for a moment, searching your face. Then he shrugged again, and at that moment you heard steps - Kaz's steps - hurrying towards you.
A bruise had started to form on the side of his face - Harris had hit him pretty hard. He was still distraught, a look of pure rage in his eyes. Jesper reached for his shot but Kaz took it before he could, downing it. Jesper lifted his hand in front of his mouth, and you peered Kaz from behind Jesper by leaning forward across the counter.
“I’ve been warned off the job,” Kaz said, turning his head towards Jesper a little and Jesper frowned.
“By who?”
“Who do you think?”
Jesper’s eyes widened, standing up as Kaz turned away from the counter. “Did he remember you?”
Kaz stared forward for a moment. “I’d be dead if he had.”
They walked a little further away, and you decided not to follow them. You didn’t want to seem too clingy - it could raise suspicions. So you sat there, swirling the empty shot glass in your hands and letting your thoughts wander.
—
“Papa, why would my real papa and mama abandon me?” you asked, sitting on the floor with your storybook. Pekka snorted, straightening his tie.
“For money,” he replied. “You were a liability to them, not a son they had hoped for.”
His words stung you every time, even when he had told you that same story over and over again all your life. “But why? Why wouldn’t they love me?”
Pekka took in a deep breath, and you immediately regretted your words. “Why does it matter? I’m raising you. I offer you food. A warm bed. I even let you play with toys. I’m going to make you strong. You will be the Queen of the Barrel one day, everyone will fear you.”
“But I don’t want to be feared–”
Pekka raised his hand, his voice raising in volume. “Weak people say that.”
You swallowed. “I… I’m sorry, papa.”
Then, he turned away, leaving you sit there, on the floor, thinking about what the future would bring you.
—
“We’re leaving. Come along,” Kaz’s voice penetrated your thoughts and you barely caught up before standing up and hurrying after him. The night of Ketterdam greeted you as you walked side by side with Kaz, barely keeping up with him.
Saints, this man was fast with his cane.
---
<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER
NEXT CHAPTER ->
Taglist: This does not and will not have a taglist, so please don't ask to be added. If you want to get informed about new chapters, I recommend subscribing to the work in AO3. Or adding the story into your library in Wattpad, but I'd recommend getting AO3 account more.
i love this smmm. so good to see my boi jesper again god i missed these characters! I'm feeling a bit aww towards pekka w each chapter hmhm gotta bring my full hating potential back
summary: james deems you marriage worthy because you play with his hair (and he likes you)
james loves having his hair messed with, especially if it’s by you. he swears it’s the most relaxing thing ever just simply being in your presence with your hands raking gently through his curls. “i would marry you just for you to play with my hair.”
you hummed, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers. “i’d be offended if you married me just for me to play with your hair.”
“nah.” he snickered opening his eyes to look up at you. “just an added bonus really. that wouldn’t be the only reason.”
“what’s the other reasons then?” you questioned, using your nails to lightly scratch his scalp and loving the way he melts into you even more.
his eye close again and he looks so peaceful and comfy with his head resting on your lap. “you ground me- you’re like.. i don’t know you’re just you.”
“i’m just me?”
“yeah.” he paused. “you’re always so patient with me whenever i’m acting like a divvy and you’re just really nice to me. i also just love being around you, i swear i could be with you 24/7 and i’ll never ever get sick of you” his hands came up to cover his face like he was embarrassed. “you make me feel warm.”
you couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of you. “i make you feel warm?”
“yeah.” he groaned. “stop laughing at me! i’m pouring my heart out here.”
he was laughing himself, so carefree. so beautiful. “m’not laughing at you. i think it’s really sweet.” you defended yourself. “why’re you covering your face?”
“i’m ashamed.” he cried out. “i’m mortified i just said all that..it’s all true and i meant every word but merlin!”
you pried his hands away from his face until he eventually opened his eyes to look at you. “i guess we could get married then.” you joked. “since i know you wouldn’t be using me for my head massage skills.”
“tomorrow?”
“what?”
“let’s get married tomorrow.”
“bit too soon james.”
“boyfriend.”
“what?”
james cleared his throat before talking, now sat up with you face to face. “boyfriend. me. sound good?” he blurted out bashfully. “i mean i can be your boyfriend first…if you want.”
╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all remus lupin stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) <3
MASTERLIST • THE MARAUDERS • 06/25/24
@luveline ✰ shy!reader
@angelfic ✰ calm after the storm the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone. ✰ furry little secret you find out remus has been keeping a huge secret from you, and only you.
@lupinlongbottom ✰ singed memories Harry finds a photo of Remus and a mysterious girl. He finds that the girl’s name is (Y/N), she was dead. Harry, letting his curiosity get the better of him, asks Remus for the whole story. ✰ babysitting blues Remus and (Y/N) are asked to babysit Harry while Lily and James go away for the weekend.
@siriuslovebot ✰ mouse the reader has always had a huge crush on remus. the girls find out and marlene accidentally lets it get back to remus.
@solemnarration ✰ the girl with the books james and sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of remus’s affection – return his feelings.
@curseofaphrodite ✰ pomegranates fake dating takes a whole new meaning when the two of you realize you'd rather have it be real.
@mangomonk ✰ i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me part 2
@in-between-thighs ✰ kiss me really nicely Remus Lupin is worried he doesn’t know how to properly kiss you, you might have to teach him.
@strawberry-fields-things ✰ amortentia Just when Remus thought he was overcoming his crush for you, you wind up drinking a potion that makes you fall in love with him.
@theemporium ✰ angsty ✰ reader left out part 2
@kquil ✰ not so secret admirer part 2 part 3 you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute
Silence enveloped the room the moment you said it. Brekker stared at you, you stared at him. Then, the beak dug deeper into your chin - you were pretty sure it was drawing out blood now.
"You think I'm a fool, do you?" he seethed, his voice full of hatred, his eyes blazing. "The infamous Blood Princess herself, is begging for my help to take down Dime Lions, and her own father?"
You nodded, grimacing at the sting. "I found out what Pekka did to my parents. He didn't adopt me after my parents died, like he said he did - he… he killed them. His men beat me up after I found out. Pekka threw me out like trash - said he had other plans for the future of his legacy anyway."
Brekker narrowed his eyes on you. "What plans?"
"My brother."
You knew it was necessary for your plan, for him to trust you, but you still felt your heart skip a beat as if you had made a big mistake, risking Alby. You hoped Brekker didn't notice your expression faltering - he was watching you like a hawk waiting for its prey to come out.
Then, a grin spread into his face. "Pekka has a son? Is it his, his blood and flesh?"
You swallowed. "Yes, but… he's innocent in this."
He scoffed, a scowl on his face deepening again. "Nothing is innocent, especially if it has something to do with Pekka Rollins."
You partially cursed yourself for telling Brekker about Alby - but it was your best bet in this situation, it could be used to your advantage. Protecting Alby from possible harm would be a matter coming in later.
He could be able to trust you better if you told him more about Alby. But he also could grow suspicious of you sharing too much too quickly. You had to be careful with it.
"Promise me you won't hurt him," you said quietly, and Brekker huffed at it, narrowing his eyes at you.
"Do you want to get rid of your father or not? How do I know you’re not bluffing me?”
The cane stung ever so slightly harder into your chin, and you nodded, tears of pain coming into your eyes. “He killed my parents - my real parents. He’s a monster.”
He stared at you a moment longer, and then the sting loosened a bit. A thin trail of blood started going down your neck. You closed your eyes as you sighed in relief - for a moment there you thought you'd leave the room without your head.
“What about a little test?” Brekker asked, and you let out a small breath, meeting his eyes again. "We have had a Dime Lion detained for a few days, after we found him sneaking around the Crow Club, picking up a fight with one of our own. Maybe you could show how bad you really want to get rid of them."
A chance. You smirked. "Oh, gladly."
—
Lorcan sat in the chair, tied up like you were just a couple of hours before. You had been patched up well enough to be able to stand on your own, with Brekker standing behind you, watching you like a hawk.
Poor Lorcan, always been careless when drunk. Your father sometimes threatened to kick him off Dime Lions unless he'd learn to keep the bottle closed, but of course he didn’t listen. He had too much fun drinking himself on the verge of passing out and then going to pick up a fight with Dregs.
You took some dirty water from the bucket in front of Lorcan and splashed it onto his face. His eyes blinked open, and they immediately widened when he recognised you. “O-oh, um, I can explain–”
“Shh,” you interrupted him, putting a finger on his lips. “Save it, Pekka isn’t here to hear them.”
Lorcan let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”
You giggled. “No, Lorcan, it’s not good.”
His eyes snapped back up at you - fear flashed in them. “Huh?”
“You see, Lorcan - Pekka betrayed me, I found out something very interesting about my real parents,” you smiled at him, gliding your finger over his jaw. “He killed them, so I have no choice but cut his strings off, and turn to the real future King of Ketterdam.”
You shifted slightly so Lorcan could see Brekker, and his fear slowly melted into horror as it started settling in. “No, you wouldn’t–”
You interrupted him again, “I would.”
He swallowed, staring at you. You could almost hear his thoughts - he knew what would happen next, but like always, the prey hoped for something better. “What are you going to do?”
“You will take a message to Pekka. About me coming for him,” you whispered with a fake smile and patted his cheek. “Will you be a good boy and do that?”
“Yes,” he choked out, and you nodded.
“Such a good boy you are.”
A few hours later, Lorcan had been chopped up and taken in front of the Emerald Palace - Brekker would think it’s a threat for your father, but it would actually be a message of you getting in.
You were allowed to wash yourself at one of the bathrooms, Lorcan had put up quite a fight and his blood had coated you far more than you had thought. But Brekker seemed to be satisfied with how you dealt with the situation and when you came out of the room in fresh clothes, he took a good look at you, narrowing his eyes at you again, but this time in thought.
“I still don’t trust you,” he said, placing his cane in front of him. “But you were… convincing in case it was an act.”
You scowled. “I really do want to get rid of him. He and Dime Lions will burn, with or without your help.”
Brekker hummed, nodding towards the stairs. “Let’s discuss the details in my office.”
You nodded and followed him upstairs, leaving some distance in between you, internally cheering that your plan seemed to be working. Brekker’s will to have revenge would blind him from what really lies under the surface - and you were doing everything you could to keep it that way.
He locked the door before glancing at you looking at the lock, and then gestured to you to sit down in front of his desk. You did, and he took in a deep sigh, limping to the other side of the desk and stared at you again.
He was skilled in finding microexpressions, but fortunately you were just as skilled hiding them. Years of discipline had taught you, and finally, Brekker leaned back on the chair. “How exactly would we tear your father down from his throne?”
“I came to you to make up the best plan,” you started, leaning forward slightly, ignoring the sting in your ribs. “But we need to do it piece by piece, there’s no way we can just march there and burn the place, no. We need to weaken him enough and then set his so-called ‘legacy’ on fire.”
Brekker scoffed and then took a long breath. “Even a child knows that.”
You nodded, meeting his eyes again. You looked at each other for a moment, and your brows furrowed - something in his eyes made some kind of a memory flash through you, a scent of hutspot filling your nose.
You frowned at the feeling, but recovered quickly.
“Yeah, Pekka never taught me the secrets of planning,” you mumbled. “I knew I needed help with it.”
He nodded slowly after a moment, and clenched his jaw. “What you need is to prove to me you're honest with me.”
“I’ll do anything to prove it.”
He narrowed his eyes on you again. “We’ll see about that,” he then said, and laid his gaze down on the parchment in front of him. “You can go. There’s a free room behind the kitchen - it has a bed and a small bathroom. Do not close the door. I will make a decision and tell you in a few hours.”
You nodded, standing up and smoothing out your clothes. “Thank you, Mr. Brekker.”
He didn’t look up at you, and didn't reply - and you got out of his office, making your way to the direction he had instructed you to go.
The moment you arrived at the bottom floor, everything stilled, Dregs stared at you, waiting for you to strike like a viper - and you made your best effort to walk meekly to the kitchen and to the small room hidden behind the corner.
The room was cold, windowless and humid, but you grinned at it. It was slow, but Brekker had nipped the bait already.
Next step would be befriending him, making him trust you, fully believing you were really working with him - and then rip his head off, cut off his strings like your father told you to do and you’d get to watch as his body would float away along the sea, forgotten and defeated.
And with that thought, you sat down on your bed, readying yourself to sleep a little before Brekker would come to fetch you with his decision.
Soon, he’d find out what Blood Princess really would be capable of, and what a grave mistake he made when he let her stay near him.
---
<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER
NEXT CHAPTER ->
Taglist: This does not and will not have a taglist, so please don't ask to be added. If you want to get informed about new chapters, I recommend subscribing to the work in AO3. Or adding the story into your library in Wattpad, but I'd recommend getting AO3 account more.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH the blood princess is living up to her name! I haven't seen such a badass reader in a fic for sooo long. I love how kaz doesnt trust her even after the act but he seems to start to trust her ufff. Cannot wait to see his betrayed look in the end hehehe
Yes I read this fic first thing in the morning. Yes I'm gonna read each part of this every morning like its a morning newspaper. tysm for writing this jenni!
The world is an evil place, and you have to be even worse if you wish to survive.
That was what your father always told you, ever since you were old enough to understand what words meant when put together. He wasn’t exactly a loving father, nor was he hiding who he was from you. From the very start, you were raised to be like him.
Maybe in your little heart, at times you were wondering if it’s right, if it meets your morals, if it’s really what you want. But you had been taught to shut it down - of course it’s right. It’s all you ever knew, and there was no other way.
One of your first memories had Pekka telling you how your parents sold you to him for money, and when he wouldn’t take you, they had told him to throw you to Reaper’s Barge if not else - that you’re a liability to them and not a son they had hoped. So Pekka had taken you in, and raised you to be the future Queen of the Barrel, ruling alongside Alby - the whole city of Ketterdam would be under Rollins rule, and his legacy could live on for centuries.
You were his most feared interrogator - pulling teeth and fingernails out was tame compared to what you would do to anyone who had been acting suspicious. Any snitch and spy would sing the moment you stepped into the room, which spared them their life. They usually still left the room without at least one body part, but at least they were alive.
You had earned yourself a name, a name that was whispered in the streets as you walked there - Blood Princess. It planted fear across the Dime Lion turf, and soon after you stepped in, Pekka no longer had spies and all of his men were kept straight and in order, never disobeying him.
But during the past years, there had been a growing threat in the Barrel - the Dregs had a new dog, and it was a mad one. It got equal fear in Dregs turf and quickly ate up more playground for them from other gangs, which made Dregs the second largest gang from Dime Lions.
At first, Pekka had been interested in this new Dregs member - Dirtyhands they called him. Maybe if he was offered a nice, thick stack of money, he’d leave the old Haskell and start working for Dime Lions instead. Maybe you’d get a friend to play with, Dirtyhands was around your age and seemed like he was equally willing to do things you did.
The boy had taken the money and burned them in front of Pekka, his eyes so full of hate and despise that Pekka almost would have thought he was indeed possessed by a demon, or that's what he told you. You were more than interested to see this Dirtyhands - Kaz Brekker his real name was - yourself, and a few times you did meet him briefly. It wasn’t a real meeting though, you never talked, only stared at each other while Pekka and Haskell were meeting, doing shallow deals, talking about turfs, negotiating after some fights - who crossed whose turf line. Two sides, you were your father’s right hand and Kaz was Haskell’s, you were mainly there to guard each other from doing any tricks.
But after Dregs had started taking small bits of Dime Lions' turf and claiming them as Dreg turf, Pekka snapped. He immediately summoned you to his office, and had an order for you to execute.
“Go to Kaz Brekker, convince him you want to help him get rid of Dime Lions,” he told you. “Do whatever you can to make him believe you, I know you can do it. Make him dance like a marionette. Then, cut off his strings and throw him into the Barge.”
You smirked, nodding. “I already have a story I’ll tell him. But for that, papa, I need to be beaten up.”
Pekka took in a deep breath and nodded towards his goons, and you followed them to another room where you endured an hour of being thrown across the walls, kicked and punched, until you coughed up blood and could barely walk.
Then, you forced yourself to get up and make your way towards the Dregs turf, towards the Slat.
You had a job to do, and it had to be done perfectly.
—
Something wet was splashed on your face, and you opened your eyes with a groan. You were met with a boot, which had an owner who splashed the muddy rain water on your face to wake up.
“Look, Hog. The Princess herself,” someone said, his laugh echoing in your ears and you rolled to your back with a groan.
Get yourself to the Slat.
“Help me,” you squeaked out. The two men laughed again, and you felt the other man nudge you with your boot again.
“A fancy place you got yourself into, Princess. Right in front of the Slat. Brekker will have fun tearing you apart,” the other man, Hog, said and you heard some shuffling. “Dijks, why don’t you get him?”
“Gladly, Hog.”
Slat. Good.
A few moments passed with you just lying there, before the door opened again and you heard an unmistakable sound of a cane clicking. Then, it was dead silent, just the sound of rain and occasional banter further away, as the three men stared at you.
Then, a raspy voice. Stone against stone, Kaz Brekker’s voice, said, “Bring her in. Tie her in the chair in the back room, I’ll deal with her later. Make sure her bindings hold.”
“Gladly, boss.”
You were hoisted up, and you saw everything in a blur. Brekker walked back inside as you were brought in, roughly dragged by these two idiots, Hog and Dijks.
You made a mental note that they’ll get killed next once Brekker is dead.
They threw you on a chair with more power than necessary, and then you saw the other man in front of you, spitting on your face. “My niece almost got killed because of you.”
Almost? Such a big crybaby.
But you knew you had to keep up your facade. “I’m sorry, I’m so–”
He slapped you. “Keep whining to yourself, maybe you’ll get killed faster.”
You shut up then, just sitting there with your head down, waiting for Kaz to appear through the door. And it took half an hour before you heard him walking towards that small, cold room where you sat tied up, being bruised, wet and dirty.
“Leave,” Kaz growled, and the two men immediately left the room, leaving you and Kaz alone. The crow beak of his cane dug to your chin as he forced you to look at him, and the moment you met his dark eyes, you let out a breath.
“Help me,” you whispered, and Kaz tilted his head. His brows furrowed - he was confused. Good.
Then, he scoffed. “Why would I help you?”
You took in a deep breath, trying to force yourself to sit up straighter. Then, you readied yourself to drop the bomb - you had to make it seem like you meant it, like you wanted it - like you were being honest. And if anything you had heard about Kaz Brekker, it was that he wasn’t easy to cheat, it was even impossible to cheat him, and trying it would only get you killed. But, you had a job to do and backing down wasn’t an option.
“I want to help you in getting rid of my father, Pekka Rollins - and to destroy Dime Lions.”
--
NEXT CHAPTER ->
Taglist: This does not and will not have a taglist, so please don't ask to be added. If you want to get informed about new chapters, I recommend subscribing to the work in AO3. Or adding the story into your library in Wattpad, but I'd recommend getting AO3 account more.
wanted to get back into tumblr fics and choosing your series was definitely the right choice! i love the backstory in this fic. it was just mwah. it didn't drag on and was to the point. I love how the reader is just as badass as kaz and I can't wait for all the twists hehe
also why did i go aww when I read pekka took the reader in after her parents left her to basically die?
The world is an evil place, and you have to be even worse if you wish to survive.
That was what your father always told you, ever since you were old enough to understand what words meant when put together. He wasn’t exactly a loving father, nor was he hiding who he was from you. From the very start, you were raised to be like him.
Maybe in your little heart, at times you were wondering if it’s right, if it meets your morals, if it’s really what you want. But you had been taught to shut it down - of course it’s right. It’s all you ever knew, and there was no other way.
One of your first memories had Pekka telling you how your parents sold you to him for money, and when he wouldn’t take you, they had told him to throw you to Reaper’s Barge if not else - that you’re a liability to them and not a son they had hoped. So Pekka had taken you in, and raised you to be the future Queen of the Barrel, ruling alongside Alby - the whole city of Ketterdam would be under Rollins rule, and his legacy could live on for centuries.
You were his most feared interrogator - pulling teeth and fingernails out was tame compared to what you would do to anyone who had been acting suspicious. Any snitch and spy would sing the moment you stepped into the room, which spared them their life. They usually still left the room without at least one body part, but at least they were alive.
You had earned yourself a name, a name that was whispered in the streets as you walked there - Blood Princess. It planted fear across the Dime Lion turf, and soon after you stepped in, Pekka no longer had spies and all of his men were kept straight and in order, never disobeying him.
But during the past years, there had been a growing threat in the Barrel - the Dregs had a new dog, and it was a mad one. It got equal fear in Dregs turf and quickly ate up more playground for them from other gangs, which made Dregs the second largest gang from Dime Lions.
At first, Pekka had been interested in this new Dregs member - Dirtyhands they called him. Maybe if he was offered a nice, thick stack of money, he’d leave the old Haskell and start working for Dime Lions instead. Maybe you’d get a friend to play with, Dirtyhands was around your age and seemed like he was equally willing to do things you did.
The boy had taken the money and burned them in front of Pekka, his eyes so full of hate and despise that Pekka almost would have thought he was indeed possessed by a demon, or that's what he told you. You were more than interested to see this Dirtyhands - Kaz Brekker his real name was - yourself, and a few times you did meet him briefly. It wasn’t a real meeting though, you never talked, only stared at each other while Pekka and Haskell were meeting, doing shallow deals, talking about turfs, negotiating after some fights - who crossed whose turf line. Two sides, you were your father’s right hand and Kaz was Haskell’s, you were mainly there to guard each other from doing any tricks.
But after Dregs had started taking small bits of Dime Lions' turf and claiming them as Dreg turf, Pekka snapped. He immediately summoned you to his office, and had an order for you to execute.
“Go to Kaz Brekker, convince him you want to help him get rid of Dime Lions,” he told you. “Do whatever you can to make him believe you, I know you can do it. Make him dance like a marionette. Then, cut off his strings and throw him into the Barge.”
You smirked, nodding. “I already have a story I’ll tell him. But for that, papa, I need to be beaten up.”
Pekka took in a deep breath and nodded towards his goons, and you followed them to another room where you endured an hour of being thrown across the walls, kicked and punched, until you coughed up blood and could barely walk.
Then, you forced yourself to get up and make your way towards the Dregs turf, towards the Slat.
You had a job to do, and it had to be done perfectly.
—
Something wet was splashed on your face, and you opened your eyes with a groan. You were met with a boot, which had an owner who splashed the muddy rain water on your face to wake up.
“Look, Hog. The Princess herself,” someone said, his laugh echoing in your ears and you rolled to your back with a groan.
Get yourself to the Slat.
“Help me,” you squeaked out. The two men laughed again, and you felt the other man nudge you with your boot again.
“A fancy place you got yourself into, Princess. Right in front of the Slat. Brekker will have fun tearing you apart,” the other man, Hog, said and you heard some shuffling. “Dijks, why don’t you get him?”
“Gladly, Hog.”
Slat. Good.
A few moments passed with you just lying there, before the door opened again and you heard an unmistakable sound of a cane clicking. Then, it was dead silent, just the sound of rain and occasional banter further away, as the three men stared at you.
Then, a raspy voice. Stone against stone, Kaz Brekker’s voice, said, “Bring her in. Tie her in the chair in the back room, I’ll deal with her later. Make sure her bindings hold.”
“Gladly, boss.”
You were hoisted up, and you saw everything in a blur. Brekker walked back inside as you were brought in, roughly dragged by these two idiots, Hog and Dijks.
You made a mental note that they’ll get killed next once Brekker is dead.
They threw you on a chair with more power than necessary, and then you saw the other man in front of you, spitting on your face. “My niece almost got killed because of you.”
Almost? Such a big crybaby.
But you knew you had to keep up your facade. “I’m sorry, I’m so–”
He slapped you. “Keep whining to yourself, maybe you’ll get killed faster.”
You shut up then, just sitting there with your head down, waiting for Kaz to appear through the door. And it took half an hour before you heard him walking towards that small, cold room where you sat tied up, being bruised, wet and dirty.
“Leave,” Kaz growled, and the two men immediately left the room, leaving you and Kaz alone. The crow beak of his cane dug to your chin as he forced you to look at him, and the moment you met his dark eyes, you let out a breath.
“Help me,” you whispered, and Kaz tilted his head. His brows furrowed - he was confused. Good.
Then, he scoffed. “Why would I help you?”
You took in a deep breath, trying to force yourself to sit up straighter. Then, you readied yourself to drop the bomb - you had to make it seem like you meant it, like you wanted it - like you were being honest. And if anything you had heard about Kaz Brekker, it was that he wasn’t easy to cheat, it was even impossible to cheat him, and trying it would only get you killed. But, you had a job to do and backing down wasn’t an option.
“I want to help you in getting rid of my father, Pekka Rollins - and to destroy Dime Lions.”
--
NEXT CHAPTER
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description: you and regulus are complete opposites, yet you couldn’t be happier together.
(sorry i died for a month. i don’t really like this but i wanted to post something again)
Regulus Black is, by all means, a quiet person. He keeps to himself and his select group of friends and to all else he is a dark and intimidating person.
You are a social butterfly, bouncing around various groups of friends from every house, smiling everywhere you go. All in all, you’re the opposite of Regulus Black.
Which is why it came as a shock to everyone the day he bid a goodbye to you, when you went to sit with your separate friends, by pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.
Though over time everyone around you both became accustomed to small occasional gestures of affection between the two of you, that is everyone except for Regulus.
He still finds it completely inconceivable that you, basically the sun to him, want to be with him.
So he still jumps a little when you suddenly appear behind him in the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist whilst he is in the middle of a idiotic conversation with Barty.
The second he hears your voice, all bubbly and excited, all thoughts of that previous conversation were out the window.
“Regulus!” You gasp excitedly as you squeeze around his waist gently.
“Hello, love.” He responds while quickly turning himself around in your arms to face you.
“You won’t believe what happened in transfiguration today!” You say while bouncing up and down on your toes.
Regulus quirks an eyebrow as a silent gesture of telling you to continue.
“Okay, okay, so..” You begin to ramble excitedly about some silly thing James had done to impress Lily, but Regulus wasn’t exactly listening.
Well of course he was listening, he listens to everything you’ve ever said, but at this very moment he was enraptured by just watching you.
The way your eyes sparkle in the light beaming in from the windows, how your hair is slightly messed up from the school day, but especially the glowing smile on your face as you talk a mile a minute.
Eventually Regulus snaps out of his little trance, glancing behind your head seeing Barty and Evan laughing and mocking Regulus, who's always been stone cold, melting before their eyes.
But what snaps them all out of their silent mocking, is when you finish your story.
“I mean I just can’t believe Lily finally agreed to a date with him.”
All three boys snap to your face when you say that and at once they speak.
