being the only person kaz can touch would include:
warnings. haphephobia (the fear of being touched or touching others), some angst and fluff, vomiting, hidden feelings (0.7k)
divider credits. @cafekitsune
being a trusted member of the crows for quite some time, and growing up as part of the dregs with him prior to him earning his high standing position
if anything, he would feel the most comfortable with you as he had known you for years, although that did not make it any easier for him at the start
it isn’t that he didn’t want to be able to touch others, as it was a weakness that repulsed him to his very core, but he just couldn’t
the act of flesh touching his own would slip him into a state of sickness, both mentally and physically. kaz despised it, though he had gotten used to not being able to hold skin to skin contact
but he wanted to overcome the vigorous discomfort that he felt amidst it, and have some relief in conquering a minuscule part of it. even if it was with only a singular person. it would grant him a feeling of power and control over his greatest fear
he asked you, as you were never one to pry in regards to him constantly wearing his gloves and him grimacing at the sight of wounded flesh
the two of you were in his office, just the pair of you when he brought it up in conversation. kaz felt comfortable that you would not judge him, you had known each other long enough for your mind to hardly draw focus to his phobia
he had even in the past trusted you with his gravest secret - the reason for his phobia, and you understood the experience that he had had as a child could contort his mind into repelling human contact
“i know this may seem rash…” his words had you concerned until he explained his motives; he seemed certain on what he wanted, and whilst you wished to abide in helping him, you yourself were afraid of bringing him discomfort, especially when it involved such a hardwired fear he had
nevertheless you agreed on the conditions that you would proceed with the process slowly, and he would let you know if it got too much
kaz agreed to your terms, silently appreciating the care that you had for him, daring not to voice it. he was not the best person at expressing his feelings if they were not within the realm of anger or rage
small steps, he reminded himself, not wanting to overwhelm himself before the two of you started in battling his fears, or let you become wise as to the reason he had wanted you to be the one to help him
when you first touched after years of knowing one another, you held kaz’s hands. he still wore his gloves as you had told him to, and he felt guilty for the bile that rose in his throat and the vomit that left his mouth
the feeling was so foreign, but he knew that it was his own nerves gnawing at him. he still had his gloves on for saint’s sakes, and that did not usually stop him during brawls with the dime lions if it was necessary
but it was his fault, he told himself. kaz had been imagining himself not wearing the barriers of leather, picturing your hands held together with nothing in between
you did not blame him, nor physically try to comfort him, knowing that neither would enlighten or make kaz feel any better. instead, you told him that you could both try again some other time if he wished, making sure that he did not feel any pressure to do so if he either did not want to or did not feel comfortable 
he made a point of continuously calling you to his office after that, to try and try again. and over time, the impulse to vomit subsided, and he got used to holding your hand whilst wearing his gloves
one day, he surprised both of you by removing the leather from his hands, choosing on impulse to touch your own. he had expected to be sickened, but instead his mind distracted him, thinking of how warm your skin was - nothing like jordie’s had been when…
you were shocked, a smile pulling onto your features and pride swelling in your chest for Jim
though you had reminded him to go at his own pace, you could not help but hug him, and he awkwardly embraced you back, feeling comfortable enough due to all of the layers of clothing that were between you
it was a work in progress, but Kaz wanted more, his greed overwhelming him. he did refrain but he had every intent of eventually progressing, fighting his greatest fear so that one day he would be capable of kissing you…
tw: forced physical proximity, mentions of knives, the feeling of never being enough, angst with ambiguously happy ending, unrequited love.
Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason, they said.
He was a monster, a cheater, a crook.
A demonic cripple who had claws for fingers and a cane made of gold.
They said that if you looked at him closely enough, you could see horns on his shadow. That his limp wasn't from some hurried mansion heist, but from when he fell from heaven into hell.
Lucifer, the Fallen Angel, some called him.
Saints knew he was certainly as beautiful as that damned devil.
Pale, dark haired and tall, with scars scattered across his face from errant Barrel fights, fingers slender and hidden under expensive black leather, he'd wormed his way into your heart the way he picked locks or the way he plotted heists- with much less difficulty than it should've cost him.
It wasn't fair. You were educated, wealthy, raised with money but not love, then left alone in Ketterdam when your mother remarried and moved to Fjerda with her new family.
It wasn't fair, how easily you'd fallen when you'd never fallen for anyone before. Your ex had squeezed out all the love from your heart, ensured that you'd never try and be vulnerable with anybody ever again, so you'd sworn at 15 that you'd never fall for anyone ever again, but come your 17th year and there you'd been, gazing at Kaz Brekker like some lovesick fool.
He'd roped you into the Dregs by some elaborate scheme that had his criminal cunning written all over it, and then you'd become much too close with the teenagers who called themselves the Crows- Nina, Matthias, Inej, Jesper, Wylan. They were sweethearts and criminals, and they'd become family- more family than your real family had been.
Then there was Kaz, of course. It'd been a little harder to make him tolerate you, to make him look at you with something other than disdain. You shouldn't have cared. You were nothing more than another useful pawn to him, a Healer who'd never quite come into her abilities. It had partly been because of a Fjerdan mother who despised all Grisha and yet had started a family with one, and the fact that you'd never quite had a mentor or been encouraged to try. Practice made perfect, Nina had told you when she'd found out. But you weren't perfect, and you'd never gotten the chance to practice. You were just another club member, another girl Kaz never met the eyes of. It was still so hard to lose feelings..... or stop looking at him, anyway. If you couldn't love him, you could at least let lust make an appearance.
So you stared when he beat the life out of a Dime Lion member, marvelling at how blood looked so crimson against his pale skin. You stared while he pushed his fork around his plate at a cafe, Jesper and Nina's voices loudest in the room. You stared when he debriefed you, and you stared when you slipped off the ledge of a mansion window and landed right in his arms. Yes, he'd let you go almost immediately, pupils dilating with something like fright at the contact of your bare hands against his exposed skin, but he'd caught you. He cared!
The Crows noticed quicker than most, and they'd noticed you staring, warm brown eyes gazing lovingly at the cold boy made of edges and blades, hour after hour, whenever he made an appearance. They'd noticed, and they begun to tease.
"Eye candy, huh?" Jesper grinned at you when your eyes inevitably fell on Kaz across the club, your fingers drumming a rhythm on the table. His wrists, the blue veins an intricate tracery under the leather gloves, his forearms, his pale, prominent collarbones. Saints, he was so pretty. The way a strand of hair fell onto his forehead when he leaned towards the paper he was reading made you flush. You imagined yourself tucking it away, then trailing a path of kisses from his forehead to his lips, and....
No. Stop it.
"Eye candy," you had sighed, finishing off your drink, knowing the fantasies were likely liable to stay just fantasies. Jesper had slung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you down to the floor to dance a ridiculous jig in front of gaping tourists, but the abyss in your heart had felt emptier than before, knowing Kaz knew you were there but hadn't looked, hadn't even cared to let his eyes shift to yours.
It was stupid.
It was silly.
It was completely unlike you, but you were alone, romantically, and you were dry and desolate and bored.
And Kaz was there, like a pale Prince carved out of marble and glass. He was beautiful, even more so because of his nonchalance, his cutting words. Sometimes it even felt like he cared.
That one, cold night when you'd been injured in a fight and separated from the others by some cruel coincidence. He'd carefully dogged you into a warehouse, a safe one, he'd said, and unbuttoned your shirt, cleaning and wrapping the wound in bandages, quiet, but the look in his eyes something quite akin to care. You'd been red, shirtless and only covered by your bra. He'd tried to remain unaffected, but you'd seen the tips of his ears and his cheeks flush red, and you had giggled internally, frozen in place by how much it had affected him.
Then there was the time you'd once mentioned a candy you used to love as a child that you couldn't find anymore.
"The shops that sell them are too far across town," you'd groaned, leaning back into Inej, who'd smiled, her fingers lithely braiding your hair. "I'm far too lazy to walk that far, and I have classes, too."
Kaz had been there, in the background, though he'd been working, fingers flipping through the club's accounts. He hadn't even looked at you then, but come next morning and you'd found a bag of that candy sitting on your dresser, tied up with a knot that was looped in such a fancy way that you immediately knew who it was. You knew only one boy who had such nimble fingers, only one boy who could tie such intricate knots. You'd smiled at him at breakfast, tried to thank him, but he'd avoided your gaze, muttered a "Don't start", and limped away.
Then there was the day when you'd spent all night hunkered over your psychology notes, trying to ingest the contents before your exam early next morning. The Crows had gone to sleep after telling you to not stay up too late, and you had been flipping one page after another, dehydrated and starving but too focused to climb down to the kitchen and rejuvenate yourself. Sleep had been so far out of reach and so desirable that for a moment, you'd drifted off, head cushioned by your arms, right there on your desk.
Perhaps an hour had gone by, perhaps two, but when you'd awoken, it was still night, and there was a plate of fried potatoes and hutspot sitting in front of you on the desk. Beside that, a steaming cup of hot cocoa. And a note.
Don't starve yourself.
Only one person stayed awake so late, and you suspected it was him. Just to confirm, you'd walked around the hallways, carefully placing your ear on the Crow's doors to check if they were fast asleep. Jesper and Wylan were, and so was Inej, but Nina and Matthias had been doing something that was distinctly not sleeping. You'd backed away from their door, cheeks red.
Back in your room, you'd smiled so hard it'd hurt your cheeks. And maybe the hot cocoa had been a little too dark, and the potatoes just a little too charred, but the thought of him scrambling around in the kitchen and arranging it on plates and putting them on your desk made you giggle.
He cared.
Sometimes.
He'd do something sweet like that, then he'd ignore you completely, as if the mere existence of you disgusted him. He'd keep away, eyes never meeting yours, mincing his words until they hurt.
And then you wanted to stop liking him, you really did.
But you'd fallen in love.
The ledge of love was slippery, and your fingers were begrudging.
It would be harder to climb out now than it had been to fall in.
And of course you had to see him everyday, either in missions or at the Slat, his brows furrowing when they caught sight of you, eyes flitting away.
*☆*
Love had no place in a heist, and yet there you were, your eyes tracking the slender way Kaz's fingers rested on his glass, your own hands shaking under the table.
"I see you're interested in gloves now?" Nina deadpanned under her breath.
It was a job, a treacherous one at some high ranking nobleman's mansion, and he was all dolled up in a tuxedo and tie, his hair slicked back. His sharks' eyes gleamed darkly as he drummed his fingers on the rim of the class, droplets of condensation dripping down the side of his gloves. Saints, he looked gorgeous. Pale, his cheekbones sharp, eyes half lidded. You couldn't tear your eyes away, or hear anything apart from his low voice, the way he was making smooth small talk with the nobleman's son. If you hadn't known him, you'd have thought he was trying to be seductive.
"Excuse me?" Nina whispered again in mock offence. "I said something!"
You tore your eyes away from him, just barely registering that she had said something.
"Pardon?" You finally replied, smile apologetic. Her eyes shot heavenward, grinning as she shook her head, falling silent.
The nobleman's son was sitting on one side of Kaz, eyes flitting from the cards on the table to your neckline. It was low-cut just enough to keep a man guessing, but not enough to satiate his unending appetite. It wasn't strange to have men ogling you, but tonight you were the main distraction, and tonight, it was your assigned job, not just a by-consequence of your womanhood.
Inej had braided the strands of hair framing your face, curled the ends; Nina had picked out your dress from a high end boutique while Kaz had watched, silent when Nina had asked him which color would suit you the most. You'd glanced at him, but he had been distracted, eyes fixed on the floor, anywhere but you.
Nina had fawned over a crimson dress with a fitted waist and a low neckline that fit you perfectly, and you'd put it on even though you loathed wearing dresses. A job was still a job, though. You'd lined your eyes and lips the way you did before classes, patting blush onto your cheeks, highlighting your cheekbones. Nina'd winked at you as you slipped on heels, as if she knew your ulterior motive. It wasn't that nobleman's son you had dressed for, with his bloodshot eyes and his leer. It was Kaz.
Oh, as if he would ever notice.
You wanted to punch his lights out.
Worse, you wanted to kiss him.
Twenty minutes passed of the conversation, maybe more. Nina excused herself to the bathroom, surreptitiously making her way to the rendezvous point where she and Wylan would disarm the guards and get to the room where the letters were kept, the letters that were needed. And Kaz's eyes shifted to yours, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. This was the signal, the tell that was supposed to get you moving. His lips mouthed something. Don't get sentimental. A job's a job.
Ouch. That hurt.
You dragged your eyes from his, knowing his way and his words, his sharp, cruel tongue, trying not to let it sting.
So he knew about your old flame, the one who'd ripped you apart. Funny, how you kept falling for boys who stuck needles into your heart.
But you were only supposed to be a shadow tonight, a shadow with silk clinging to her curves and nimble fingers that now smoothed the coat of the nobleman's son, smiling sweetly as he leaned in, words stumbling, foolish and loose with wine. His eyes raked over you, and it took all your self control not to jerk away. Only the thought of Kaz watching you, eyes icy and calculating, steadied the shiver threatening to rise. The thought of his cold expression, his cutting words if you failed got your lips moving again.
"You're so...." you struggled to find a word for the tipsy boy in front of you, his wine glazed eyes fixed on your cleavage, hair tousled. "...interesting. Let's take this some place else?"
Your fingers ran over his collar, the front of his shirt. His lips curved in a leer, and it took you everything not to lurch away.
I can do this. I will.
It took the sight of Kaz, his eyes fixed on your reaction, to finally make you stand up and drag the boy to a closet, a secluded, narrow one where he abruptly started to run his hands over the hollow of your collarbones, upsetting your pretty dress.
"Lovely," he drawled. "Too bad you're running around with that Brekker..... you could have been mine."
You flinched, placing your fingers over his eyelids.
"Don't you think you should sleep now?" Your voice was soft in the darkness. Never having learned how to properly wield your Heart-rending abilities, Nina had been giving you lessons for the past few months, both patient and indignant.
What do you mean you've never practiced? You are coming with me right now, lady.
The thought of her voice brought a smile to your face, your own breathing slowing a little as the drunken boy in front of you tilted and collapsed onto the floor of the closet. Swiftly running your fingers over his pockets and drawing out the ledger, you snuck it down the front of your dress, into your bra. Somewhere nobody would touch, for sure. You stifled a laugh as you made your way back to the rendezvous point, fingers expertly snatching wallets from random pockets.
don't get sentimental....
Oh, I'll get sentimental all over your ass, Brekker. Just you wait.
You wanted to wipe that smile off his face. You wanted to leave, wanted to stop feeling this...helpless. This desperate. This....in love.
You wanted to-
"Not too fast there, darling".
The room blurred as a hand pistoned out in front of your eyes, grabbing you by the throat and pulling you flush against someone's body. A rough voice, one you didn't recognize.
Then the sharp, cold pain of a blade against your throat.
Oh no no no no I can't mess it up Kaz will be so disappointed no no no no
Your vision blurred as the knife pressed deeper.
"Brekker's Viper isn't any good without her fangs, eh?"
The title hit like a punch. Brekker's Viper. As if you were nothing but his deadly pet.
The man pressed you back further into him, and you felt his belt buckle cut into your back.
"Gonna be useful." The man grunted. "Aren't ya? Good leverage. Brekker's weakness."
Despite the pain, the way you trembled, the fear creeping into your veins, you wondered what he meant.
As if Kaz would ever let you be anything but a burden to him. He'd made that very clear.
The blade bit closer. You could feel your pulse stuttering, the world narrowing down to breath and steel and the tang of ale on his skin.
"Let me go," you rasped, voice shaking more than you wanted it to.
"Oh, Brekker'll come for you." The man sneered, pushing closer. "He always does for his little Vi-"
The rest never came.
The weight and pressure vanished, along with the sharp steel of the knife. A thud, then another. The muted sound of something hard hitting flesh. Then the sound of something hitting the floor.
You turned, blinking through the blur of tears, and there he was, in all his glory- Kaz Brekker, suit dishevelled, dark eyes gleaming, breathing hard.
"Did he touch you?"
His voice was quiet, the sort that meant someone would die tonight. Hopefully it wouldn't be you.
"Kaz, I-"
"You weren't supposed to be alone."
He moved closer, steps deliberate but limping, an edge in his voice you'd gotten used to.
"Kaz..."
"You never go off route. You hear me?"
"I- he grabbed me-"
"And you let him?"
The words were no less than a knife. You flinched.
Then, his voice softening,
"You're bleeding."
He reached out, then stopped. His gloved fingers hovered inches from your bare throat, his breathing laboured, jaw tight.
"You're fine." He drew his hand back, though the way he was shaking said otherwise. As he turned, you caught the flickers of something like fear in his eyes. Fear, not disgust.
You pressed your fingers over your neck, the beads of blood staining your lace gloves. Was it the blood that scared him? Or the thought of touching you?
He turned before you could thank him, cane striking the floor, limp apparent.
"Get the ledgers to Wylan." He said. "And next time, don't make me come for you."
But when you reached your room later that night, hands still shaking, there was a new pair of gloves folded neatly on your desk.
hello!! your profile is very cute 🤧 could I suggest a skilled , confident reader in the kaz brekker one-shot? maybe an angst fic, but it's totally up to you!
Aw thank you!! I tried my best to keep the story and characterization close to this, I hope you like it!
Warnings: Canon typical mentions of violence, bars, and gambling, nothing explicit
A/N: I have not proofread this At All so I’m sorry for any grammatical errors. Reader is basically Wylan btw (chemist and demolitions person). The characters may be a little OOC because it’s been over a year since I read the books or rewatched the show :(. A mix of book and show lore, but this is my fic and canon can be whatever I want. Takes place pre-Nina, Matthias, and Wylan but post-Jesper and Inej. Kaz is like not in this At All I fear it’s mostly just readers internal monologue followed by some interactions with Jesper and Inej. Left open ended. Let me know what you think!
Word count: 1.8k
lmk if you want a prt two
The trouble with loving Kaz Brekker was that you knew he would never love you back.
It was nights like this that reminded you of that fact, when rain pounded on the roof of the slat and the faces between the bar and the floor blurred together until they were all one and the same. Pigeons, throwing their Kruge away in Ketterdam for nothing more than short-lived pleasures, unaware of the dangers that thrummed just below their feet.
You were perched on one of the bar stools, Jesper gambling somewhere in the crowd while Inej slunk through the shadows, no doubt keeping an eye out for thieves and liars. But Kaz…
You refused to think about him, not when the moon was this high and your mood was already so soured. Your heist had gone wrong early that morning, when the sun had just barely broken over the horizon and the merchers were at their least suspecting, the stadwatch switching posts and the daylight making them feel protected. It had been a simple miscalculation, one you could have never anticipated, that had led to you, Jesper, and Kaz being chased through the streets without your prize while Inej took to the rooftops.
Once you had made it back safely to the slat, or as safely as was normal for you, Kaz had called you into his makeshift office with cold eyes and harsh words.
“If you insist on being useless, I have no further use for you.”
The words had echoed in your mind every hour since. Nevermind that you were easily the most skilled of the dregs when it came to anything regarding scientific intelligence, and nevermind that, next to Kaz, you were the most intelligent person under employment of the dregs. Suddenly all of the times that you had saved his ass didn’t matter, not when he was being reckless and you were forced to pull a diversion out of thin air to ensure his safety because even the mere idea of existing in a world without him was like a weight being pressed down on your chest. Not when you fell asleep at night thinking of his eyes and his voice and the warmth that spread in your chest whenever you two shared a quiet moment, away from the chaos of the slat and the life of Ketterdam. No, none of it mattered, because he thought that you were useless.
You were valuable, you knew that. You could leave, pack your bag and slip out of the window, and find work with one of your rivals within the next hour. Everyone would want Dirtyhand’s chemist, and even without his name attached your skill in demolitions would be enough to draw in the best of the best.
Nevermind that Kaz was the best of the best, and that everyone knew it. Even if you were to run, Inej would know, and that meant that Kaz would know, and that meant that you would be hunted down as a traitor before the next sunset.
You sighed through your nose, slamming your glass down on the bar with enough force that the half-asleep man seated next to you jerked awake, spluttering and coughing. You barely spared him a glance as you slid off of the barstool, ignoring the bartender’s angry words as he demanded payment for your drinks.
Instead, you slid into the only empty seat at a table that was playing some card game, Jesper grinning as he pulled all the betted Kruge towards himself. An old, red-faced man cursed and yelled, accusing him cheating, but one glance at the holster on Jesper’s hip and your raised eyebrow had him quieting, grabbing his things and shuffling out of the door with the expression of a man who realized he’d been conned far too late, and now had a wife to explain his lack of earnings to.
Pigeons
You spared a glance at Jesper, rolling your eyes at the wide smile he wore, and snatched a coin from the top of his pile. He huffed, attempting to snatch it back, but you simply leaned away from his reach, propping your feet up on the table. He snorted, pushing your boots off of his cards.
“What’s got you sulking? You never come down to the tables, not unless Kaz is already here.”
You pointedly ignored the knowing look that he shot you, instead tossing his coin back onto the table and grabbing his cards.
“I’m not sulking, I’m thinking, there’s a difference.”
He rolled his eyes, leaning in towards you, as if telling you a great secret.
“Look, you fancy him. And that’s great and all, don’t get me wrong, but…I’ve been down that road before. Kaz isn’t someone you fall for and walk away from, he’s just not. He’s always been short with us, don’t let it get under your skin, that’s just…how he is.”
You hummed noncommittally, as if not actually listening to his words. He looked you over for a few more moments before straightening, a new round of pigeons coming to sit at the table. His eyes lit up as he grabbed his cards, and you, sensing that it was your cue to leave, allowed a young man to take your seat.
You had decided to head up the stairs, maybe even sleep a bit, if you were lucky, when you were stopped again.
At this point your self-pity was turned a bit into incredulity, simply because Inej was standing in front of you, arms crossed and hip popped to the side, as if she were a mother scolding her child. Inej never made her presence known, not unless she was needed or unless Kaz had particularly pissed her off that day, and for a brief moment you wondered what you had done to anger her too.
“Are you leaving?”
The words were so blunt that for a moment you didn’t say anything at all, staring dumbfounded at her. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you regained your bearings, straightening up, your voice curt.
“No, why? What’s happening?”
“Really?” She raised a brow, her voice dripping with skepticism, “because it seemed like you were trying to run away.”
Your jaw clenched, and despite yourself you pushed past her, still making sure to avoid accidentally brushing against her. Her frown deepened but she didn’t give chase, instead vanishing into the shadows. You tried to ignore her words, and Jesper’s concerned look, and the word that continued bouncing around your head, causing a fire to bubble in your chest whenever you thought of it.
Useless
You scoffed, pushing into your small room, and barely gave yourself time to kick off your boots before you were grabbing your few personal belongings, shoving them into a threadbare bag. You tied it tightly before shoving it underneath your mattress, your exhaustion finally catching up to you as you collapsed onto the old, lumpy thing.
You pulled your thin blanket over yourself, and for the first time in years you didn’t see dark eyes and sharp features when you slept, instead dreaming of a new horizon.
pairing; kaz brekker x female!reader, crows x platonic!reader
warnings: cursing, I think that’s it? slight ooc bc they don't actually have social media lmaoooo
a/n: I love the usernames guys it's my favorite part
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List
Liked by inejsknife, kuweimayo, and 82 others.
(Y/U/N) we take our job running the streets of ketterdam very seriously 😉
view all 19 comments
kbrekker please do consider this a formal threat to any of our rivals out there.
inejsknife we WILL take you out
→ gamblingaddict2 on a date?
→ wylanvanew to ur grace 🪦
→ (Y/UN) grave?
→ wylanvanew bro I’m dyslexic stfu
xoxonina guys i look soooo sexy after killing somone
→ matthias.helvar 🤦♂️
→ xoxonina 😻😻 I don’t hear an argument
→ (Y/U/N) u do look so sexy babe
Liked by actuallynickfr, thecounciloftides and 99 others
(Y/U/N) girls go to college to get more knowledge, boys go to Jupiter and get stupider 😘
view all 24 comments
wylanvanew @/gamblingaddict2 she’s talking bout u
→ gamblingaddict2 I didn’t get stupider
→ kbrekker Yeah, you got a gambling addition and that’s so much better. 🙄
→ kuweimayo OOOOH HE CLOCKED YOUUU 🫵🏼🫵🏼
→ xoxonina ain’t no way we get a kuwei comment before gta6
→ matthias.helvar You don’t even play gta?
→ xoxonina no one does ITS NOT OUT
→ (Y/U/N) we can just play gta with the carriages wdym
→ inejsknife y'all talking about gta when we should be playing assassins creed
→ xoxonina you play that everyday in real life inej 🤨
Liked by msgenya, wylanvanew and 192 others
(Y/U/N) late happy birthday post to the guy who has the whole city at his feet. may you grow wiser and we get richer 🩷
view all 38 comments
kbrekker Where did you get this photo.
→ (Y/U/N) 🤭 my collection
gamblingaddict2 HE SMILES???
xoxonina guys this doesn’t feel real
→ kbrekker It’s not.
→ (Y/U/N) it is
inejsknife kaz smiling before gta6?
wylanvanew nah this is fake af
→ (Y/U/N) as fake as ur dyslexia
→ wylanvanew omfg
matthias.helvar he doesn’t look so demon like here 🤔
→ kbrekker I AM a demon. 🙂
actuallynickfr yooo happy birthday my guy!! 🥳
→ kbrekker Thanks.
Liked by perhasel, jooooost, and 67 others.
(Y/U/N) the beauty of Ravka awaits...
view all 22 comments
inejsknife she’s so peaceful when she’s not threatening someone
→ (Y/U/N) stoppppp 🥰🥰🥰
→ matthias.helvar I don’t think it’s a compliment.
→ inejsknife no it is
xoxonina BABES COME BACKKK we miss you!!!
gamblingaddict2 no seriously @/(Y/U/N) Kaz is like SO mean now
→ kbrekker You’re all just stupider now.
→ gamblingaddict2 SEE
wylanvanew bring back gifts. expensive gifts. 😊
→ (Y/U/N) with what money?
→ kbrekker The money I pay you?
zo.nav CANT WAIT TO SEE U
→ (Y/U/N) I have so much tea for you
actuallynickfr we are so excited to host you!
gamblingaddict2 guys pls let her come back tho like kaz is gonna kill me
→ inejsknife ^ last night he threw a painting at us 😔
Kaz Brekker was acquainted with different monsters. Those wrapped in expensive silk and bathed in sickening perfume. Those who spouted beautiful lies, enticing unwitting men into their dens. Those with hands stained crimson, preying on children and fools alike. His reflection on a mirror.
But the green-eyed beast proved to be a terrifying match.
Or, Kaz gets jealous.
✦ kaz brekker x gn!reader | grishaverse
✦ tags: jealous kaz, lieutenant!reader, (kind of?) enemies to lovers, set sometime after the events of crooked kingdom
"Brekker."
"Darling," KAZ drawled without looking up at your arrival, his tone more mocking than affectionate. "You're two bells late. Do you have the—"
A roll of parchment zipped through the air, landing in the middle of his desk with startling accuracy and ruining the neatly arranged blueprints spread atop it.
"I told you to quit calling me that," you muttered darkly. "One of these days, I'll really cut off your tongue."
He huffed, concealing his amusement. He enjoyed calling you all sorts of endearments after discovering how easily they riled you up.
There are times when Kaz allowed himself to feel, to act, like a boy again. Reconcile with a distant past, one that echoed Jordie's voice and carried the smell of fresh grass.
This was one of them. Similar to a child, Kaz reveled in your attention. Regardless if they came as threats, insults, or downright disdain.
He'd swallow a bullet first than ever admit it, though.
"How terrifying," he said, unfazed, and made swift work of straightening out the floor plan you brought him.
Silence fell, interrupted only by the soft shuffling of papers. From the corner of his eye, he noticed you shifting your weight from one foot to the other.
Normally, Kaz would come up with some sort of excuse to make you stay, but it seemed that something was on your mind.
And so, he waited.
You cleared your throat. "Do you need anything else?"
No, but thank you. You did well. Please, get some rest, his thoughts supplied. He ignored them. Instead, he simply settled on, "No."
His movements stilled. The question was unusual, especially coming from you.
"Nothing more, nothing less," you had once told him, seated on the ledge of a stadwatch tower that overlooked Ketterdam's shores. He'd nodded in agreement back then, mesmerized by the early sunlight that caressed your face.
You lived by the old saying for as long as Kaz has known you. After all, when you grew up in the Barrel, you'd learned early on that acting out of the goodness of one's heart only left a person broken. Penniless. Or worse, dead.
As such, you weren't the type to seek additional assignments without an offer beforehand. The fact that you had gone out of your way to ask was... suspicious.
His eyes finally flicked to yours. He could never afford to look at you for too long, as it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to stop once he started.
He cocked his head to the side and searched your gaze. "Why?"
You blinked, clearly caught off guard. He rarely indulged you in idle conversation or pried into your affairs.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Because despite everything you've been through together, this was the nature of your relationship too. Neither of you tried to change it, even after every scar he unraveled and laid at your feet.
Even after numerous nights spent confined in his office, shoulders almost, but never brushing one another as you pored over schemes for hours.
Even after repeatedly saving each other's necks and during the intimate silences that followed when the adrenaline wore off. Moments taut with charged tension, heaving breaths, and unspoken truths.
"I've got plans," you explained rather cryptically.
"Plans? Has someone else hired you for a job? I hope you don't forget that you belong to—"
"No, someone asked me out on a date."
Me, insisted the voice in his head, rich with desperation. You belong to me.
Kaz scoffed in disbelief. "A date? In Ketterdam?"
Fear clawed its way up his throat, determined to make itself known. It warred with another emotion he was too proud to name.
This... feeling was absurd. Sentimental. Kaz was no stranger to loss.
The seas granted Inej her freedom. A new chapter awaited Jesper and Wylan. Nina stumbled upon a second chance at love. Matthias found peace.
Yet, deep down, each farewell left him a little more empty than the last.
You were bound to Ketterdam only by virtue of being the Dreg's sole lieutenant. In truth, nothing else was preventing you from leaving.
Leaving him.
After promoting you, a tiny seed of guilt buried itself in his cold, wretched heart when he realized he held you back. That he never gave you the opportunity to pursue your dreams. Your position forced you to assume several roles, to fill in the shoes the others had given up.
But his greed outweighed his guilt and Kaz was a selfish man indeed.
The mere idea that someone could whisk you away from him brought forth a hateful bitterness from within.
"Where is the unfortunate fellow taking you?" he asked, keeping his voice deceptively calm.
You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the jibe. "It's a quaint little bar called 'none of your business.'"
Nothing more, nothing less. The phrase taunted him now. The green-eyed monster inside him rattled his ribcage ferociously, driving him to boast.
He curled his fingers around the desk's edge tightly. "Funny. I run the entirety of the Barrel, and I don't recall an establishment operating under that name."
"I'll have you know that he actually owns the place he's bringing me to," you snapped defensively.
Good, good. More information.
"And how long have you known each other?"
You shrugged. "A few weeks."
The answer relieved him somewhat. His possessiveness ebbs, its rhythm steady, before it swelled again, rising with the current of his emotions. One should always be more sure of everything. He'd learned that the hard way.
"And he's aware of who you truly are?" Kaz pressed on. "Of what you do?"
There were only a handful of possibilities. The person could have ulterior motives for approaching you. It wasn't unlikely, considering your power was only second to his.
Perhaps it was a spiteful soul he'd wronged, plotting to take advantage of you and get revenge on him.
On the other hand, there was also a chance that they weren't privy to your true identity. He couldn't blame anyone for wanting you but it was common knowledge whispered in the streets that Kaz Brekker was a man unwilling to share.
Anyone who didn't heed that advice and went against it anyway was just recklessly bold. Or stupid. The Barrel never seemed to run out of those.
This time, you broke away from his gaze. "It doesn't matter." You sniffed, feigning indifference.
The person didn't know then, he surmised. You probably met him during one of your undercover assignments, disguised and masquerading around with an alias.
Sensing his disapproval, you attempted to defend your date-to-be by adding, "He's kind. Sweet. Honest."
Everything he was not. The words, sharp as glass, ripped him apart. Crushed him with an overwhelming weight of sorrow.
"It seems naive of you to form an impression of him in such a short amount of time," he said through gritted teeth.
Pretending as if he didn't care should have been easy for him. Right now, all his years of experience in perfecting that charade were useless.
You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is cynical and distrusting of the world like you. People can be good, Brekker."
And you deserved everything good and more. Better people could love you, he knew.
Someone who would not flinch every time you drew near. Someone who would freely kiss away your every fear.
Kaz had survived gunshots. Knife wounds. Sickness, nightmares, and grief. But the very thought of someone else soaking in your warmth was an ache he could not bear.
He felt the words scorching his tongue, his demons voicing them with unbridled cruelty. "There is a difference between being cautious and acting like a love-sick fool!"
Your eyes widened in shock, hardening in anger a second later; then they softened with disappointment, and all Kaz could see was the reflection of himself, a frenzied animal. A blown fuse. Inhumanely hollow.
He opened his mouth to speak, beg for your forgiveness, but you had already turned and walked away.
"I'll come back when you aren't hissing at me like a wet cat," you said, slamming the door behind you.
Kaz clenched his gloved hands into aching fists and hung his head, trying not to think of how jealous the idea of another man made him.
He wasn't too late. Dealing with his emotions was uncharted territory for him but scheming came as effortlessly as he breathed.
Kaz never lost a fight and he wasn't about to start now. Even if he needed to play dirty. His greed outweighed his guilt and he wasn't called Dirtyhands for nothing.
"Brekker!"
Kaz had just finished speaking with another gang member, Roeder, when he heard the heavy stomp of your footsteps, followed by the frustrated yell of his name. You appeared on the stairway landing soon after, rage thundering in your wake.
"You're dismissed." Kaz waved to Roeder. His eyes shifted to you momentarily and cast Kaz a wary glance. Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, he scurried off, slipping past the both of you.
Kaz began to ascend the stairs, you trailing behind him. He could sense that you were shooting daggers at the back of his head, probably cursing him out silently.
"You're back early," he finally said once you entered his office. He circled back to the same place you'd left him hours earlier and sat in his chair. "How'd the date go?"
You stormed closer, wedging yourself between him and the desk, stopping him from hiding behind the pretense of work.
"You know exactly how it went," you snarled.
In spite of your anger, you remembered to maintain your distance. Not once have you commented on his aversion to skin-to-skin contact, though he was certain you harbored your own questions.
"I'm afraid I don't, darling." He raised his chin to hold your gaze, his expression carefully blank. A tailored mask. "I wasn't there."
"You had him taken by the Dregs." The hurt on your face was unmistakable, enough for Kaz to feel a tad remorseful.
It was hardly sufficient, though. Screw righteousness, old habits die hard. "Ah, I had no idea he was your date," he lied again.
"Bullshit."
"But, what I do know is that he laundered money from our coffers and forced children into building the same tavern you were just in."
Kaz went over records of the jobs you'd accomplished in the last two months. After connecting the dots, he successfully identified your date and paid Roeder to look into his background. It was pure luck that the man was a merchant who managed to con Kaz's old boss.
Pulling the strings for his capture was practically child's play. Not that he'd ever tell you that.
Your fury dissipated, replaced by defeat that slumped your shoulders. "You were right," you said quietly, avoiding his eye once more. "I'm sorry."
Kaz rose from his chair and stepped forward. Taken by surprise, you backed away instinctively, only to find yourself trapped by the desk now digging into your hip.
"Let me make it up to you," he spoke with an unfamiliar softness. It almost sounded wrong.
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What?"
"I ruined your evening. I could have ordered the others to seize him after you finished dinner."
But I didn't want him to walk you home. Wrap his coat around your shoulders. Kiss you goodnight at the Slat's doorstep. Kaz would've probably loaded his pistol at the sight. Broken every limb that touched you with his cane.
You snorted. "Okay. Are you going to give me whatever we steal next? Increase my cut?"
"No, although we can discuss it another time. I'm inviting you out on a date."
You blinked once. Twice. Slowly, you said, "Brekker, you ask someone out when you like them."
His lips pulled into the slightest frown, mildly impatient. "I know."
"You don't like me."
"Whoever put that silly idea in your head?"
"You did. You don't like anyone."
"I may not be the best at showing it, but you know that there are exceptions to that rule," he argued. "Especially when it comes to you."
He continued to lean over you, ignoring the pressure of panic beating against the walls of his chest from the proximity.
"You called me an idiot," you countered. You refused to move a muscle, most likely out of consideration for him, but he closed the distance himself.
He dipped his head further. "Again, I never said that."
"Fine," you conceded, sounding fond. "You implied that I was an idiot."
"I'll be kinder from now on," he promised. "I can try to be sweet, if you give me time and chance to learn. And I'm being honest right now."
Nothing he could do would ever atone for his sins. But although he was renowned as the Bastard of the Barrel, he was prepared to do it right by you.
Hesitantly, you raised a hand. Every inch of his flesh wanted to turn itself inside out, but every bone in his body yearned for your touch.
A quivering sigh escaped his throat as you reached for his cheek, your fingers warm and gentle on his skin.
He braced himself for the familiar scent of death. The ocean. He willed himself to focus on the details that made your face. The line of your jaw to your ear. The slope of your nose. The curve of your lips, hanging onto them as if his life depended on it.
It did, in a way.
"Your answer?" he rasped, suppressing a shiver.
You dragged your thumb against his skin in a delicate but paralyzingly manner and whispered, "I accept."
He had never been held with such tenderness before. Your touch made him feel like he was somewhere else, far from the memories that haunted him.
Growing concerned, you attempted to withdraw your hand but Kaz grasped your wrist before you fully could. He steadied himself with your pulse, each beat, each hymn, anchoring him to the present.
He was here. With you. In his office. Nothing in the world could hurt him.
Eventually, he slid his own gloved hand so that your palms pressed together. Your lashes fluttered and you asked, "Is this really happening? Are we really going on a date?"
He hummed in affirmation. "And I'll do it properly."
Seriously, who in their right mind would bring you to that side of Ketterdam? He took the sealed envelope containing your dinner reservation from inside his coat and handed it to you.
"Thank you." Your mouth curved into a shy smile. "And for the record... you don't have to be anything else other than yourself."
"Ruthless, callous, and dishonest cheat?" His voice held a hint of insecurity, betraying his attempted nonchalance. It was a question hauled from the inner depths of his soul, the boy inside him who wondered if he could ever be worthy of love.
"You forgot insufferable," you teased, although your earnest gaze belied the lightness of your tone. He knew you could see right through him. "But, yes. Just you, Kaz. Nothing more. Nothing less."
At that moment, Kaz knew you would be his salvation and destruction. You could shatter his heart and every single piece would still cry out for your name.
He squeezed your hand. Soon, he'll make you, and everyone else in the Barrel, realize that he had no intentions of ever letting you go.
✦ byeol’s notes: new year, new fandom ?!
✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you so, so much in advance! <3
Gotta put Some Color in the Miserable Place — Much to Dirtyhands' Liking
pairing: kaz x gn!reader
summary: A famous graffiti artist has been roaming around Ketterdam for a while now. It was about time you set your sights on the Slat, bare and just waiting to be painted on. A certain gloved man didn't exactly like that.
genre: idk how to label it but it's the beginning of something
wc: 2.3k
content: art-inclined reader, they/them pronouns, kaz getting annoyed, ooc kaz? not sure how to write him properly yet, spraypaint exists because I need it to, fighting
note: just a little something to get me out of my slump — it sucks, i'm sorry
oneshot under the cut :: not edited :: part 1/?
Ketterdam wasn't known to be the most luxurious of cities in Kerch. Yes, it did have places where people with money could settle down and quality napkins for them to wipe their buttcheeks on, but the "slums" part of the city overpowered that luxury. There were numerous criminals, thieves, pickpockets, and people of other illegal occupations roaming around the streets, especially the streets of the West Stave. At every alley, there would be at least some signs of a beating that occurred not too long ago. Even when people inhaled the air, it didn't feel clean.
One of your biggest concerns about the city, however, wasn't about how cleanly it was. What worried you the most was about how damn plain it seemed to be.
Where was the color? The flare? Come on, if people around the lands travel to Kerch for business, they might as well have some pretty things to look at as they cautiously walked on the streets.
You took it upon yourself to rectify that. Which was why, for the past two years, you have been one of the most sought-after criminals of Ketterdam that everyone called the “Painter”. Not because you murdered people or stole kruge, no. It wasn't even because of the fact that you decided to spray your art without permission.
It wasn't really the art that concerned other people (most of the time), but rather where you decided to put it up.
Plain old alley walls weren't the only victims of your spray bottles. Your style ended up on the main doorways of well-known brothels like the Menagerie, or the ground leading to the secret bases of different gangs. It made you a target not only of officers, but of other criminals as well. You may or may not have been the cause of the Dime Lions losing one of their main strongholds to a rival gang because you put skipping stones of Pekka Rollins' name leading to it.
You were flattered by the attention people were putting on you, but you felt unsatisfied. You had tried to put at least a little bit of your art on every visible wall of the West Stave and some of the East Stave as well, but there was something missing. Like there was one part of the Ketterdam map that hasn't been colored by you.
You got the answer to your problem one mundane day, while you were coming back from the market with a bag of groceries.
The Slat.
You had no idea why it hadn't hit you sooner. Sure, the Slat was the home of the Crows besides their bar "The Crow Club." Sure, the gang had been gaining a dangerous reputation this past year. Sure, the man calling the shots was scary as hell.
But it was just perfect.
You had long admired the Crows and their leader Kaz Brekker. You had spotted him going about business during late nights when you decided to test your skills by evading the Wraith that always pursued him (you hadn't been attacked by her, so you assumed that you were really good at sneaking around).
He was a man of business, a boss that liked getting his hands dirty — maybe that was how he got his nickname Dirtyhands. You don't see much of that in Ketterdam, and that interested you quite a bit.
Not to mention he was attractive in his own, ghostly way.
The Slate was also one of the very few canvases that you had left blank in this wretched city due to some unknown and unconscious reason, but now you had just the perfect artwork in mind for it.
—————
Kaz was in a bad mood today.
He woke up to his leg in pain. Well, it was always in pain, but it felt particularly worse that day. He almost face-planted while hobbling down the stairs in the Slat.
He had a small heist, with just him, Jesper, and Inej, but it was still messed up due to the unexpected appearance of a drunk group in the house they were robbing.
He got jumped on by some stupid pickpockets, idiots who were unaware of his identity and his reputation. He didn’t obtain any injury, but the blood that still stained his black gloves and his long black coat made him feel disgusting.
Just when he thought that he would find peace in the Slat, peace in just holing up in his office with no one to bother him, he limps down the streets of West Stave to the home of the Dregs to find a small crowd gathered on the side, murmuring to each other.
They were all members of the Crows, and they were all looking at something that was on the wall of the Slat.
His already creased brows creased further at the sight of the gathering. What were these idiots looking at this time?
Jesper was the first one who first saw him, eyes drifting over his blood-splattered clothes in slight concern.
“What’s going on?” Kaz asked, not giving Jesper the opportunity to worry over him.
“It seems that the Painter finally set their eyes on the Slat,” Jesper replied, his voice containing its usual mischief and mirth.
Kaz forged onwards, making the sharpshooter step aside to make way for Dirtyhands.
The small crowd parted for him as well, conversations dying down to small murmurs as Kaz got a better look at what they were ogling at.
He had to blink to make sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing.
When “the Painter” left Jesper’s mouth, Kaz wanted to run his fingers through his hair in frustration. The days when infamous the Painter set sights on establishments or gang bases were the days when gangs or businessmen would get publicly humiliated by the art on their walls. Normally, it would ridicule the head of the place (The Menagerie spent a significant amount of money to wash off and paint over the caricature of Tante Heleen in a horrid neon green outfit) or reveal some interesting gang secrets (two gangs were exposed to be stealing from each other and there was a little war between them).
Which was why Kaz had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing it right.
The artwork on the side of the Slat was a large mural of the Dregs’ signature crow perched on the lip of a cup, but a trail of black roses swirled around it in a spiral. Surrounding it was the Crows’ motto “no mourners, no funerals” in black and white. The irregular red and white shape behind it all emphasized everything, making it look like a banner rather than something someone actually took the time to spray on a wall.
It was unlike any artwork that was spotted anywhere in the city.
And even Kaz, who’s never had any particular interest in art, had to admit that it was nice. Flattering.
Beautiful, even.
"The Painter has their favorites, huh?" A Crow chuckled, making his mates laugh and shake their heads.
"If everyone's done having a staring contest with the wall," Kaz called, making everyone turn to their boss, "get back to work."
And just like that, they lost their interest in the artwork and dispersed. Some drifted away to different alleys to visit some gambling house, most passed by Kaz to finish some unfinished business of theirs, and others went back inside the Slat.
Kaz felt a familiar presence beside him. "Can you find this Painter, Inej?"
The Wraith that appeared out of nowhere replied, "I can try, but they're slippery."
Kaz rose an eyebrow, curiosity piquing. Someone who can evade his best spider? Now that caught his attention.
"Do it. Bring them to me," Kaz said, dismissing her with a wave. He didn't have to look to know that Inej had dissolved into the shadows.
He examined the mural once more, the barest ghost of a smirk on his face. Maybe you can come around to work for me, "Painter".
—————
You were having a good time.
If running away from some angry traders was something people would consider a good time.
"I'll kill you!" One of the men chasing you bellowed, hurling a stone that hit a wooden pillar dangerously close to your head.
You laughed, a manic cackle that only came from someone facing a certain death.
You leaped over crates, weaved through people with barely any gracefulness that would have made dancers feel second-hand embarrassment, but you didn’t care. Being chased around West Stave was one of the best things to do in Ketterdam, and you were enjoying every single bit of it.
You turned left into a random alley, only to find that it was a dead end. You looked upwards, but found only ladders that led to heavily-barred windows. You were trapped.
"Nowhere left to run, scum," A man laughed, his companion grinning as well.
You turned to flash them a charming smile. "Actually there is one way, but you're blocking it, so if you'd kindly move aside so I can peacefully make my leave."
They both looked at each other before turning back to you. "Not until we've got our money."
You pretended to think for a moment, not knowing what they mean, until you widened your eyes. "Oh! The money! That's what you were after? Why didn't you just say so?"
You rummaged through your deep pockets. "Here it is!"
You took a few quick steps forward and took out a spray can, squeezing it and drifting it over the closest man's eyes, creating a thick yellow line across his face.
The man yelled and stepped back in surprise, prompting you to catch his heel in yours and pull, making him fall.
You bent down to punch him twice before rummaging in his pockets, taking out a few loose coins and pocketing them.
You turned to face the other guy, who you found already on the ground with a figure standing above him.
The Wraith.
"Oh." Your gaze alternated between the sudden assistance and the man on the ground, before you decided to focus on the one standing and smiling at them. "Thanks for your help, Miss Wraith. Now, if you don't mind, I'll take my leave —"
You turned, only for Inej to block your exit, making you sigh. "What is it that you want from me this time?"
"For you to come with me to the Slat," Inej responded, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the alley.
You sighed again. This was going to be a long day.
—————
"Look, if this about money, I don't have any. I'm very broke." You stared at the man sitting in front of you, a desk separating him from your standing figure.
The Bastard of the Barrel didn't respond to your statement, opting to just look at you, his eyes examining your movements.
You let the silence drain on for a few more seconds before you lost patience. "What do you want?" You asked, frustrated.
"You're the Painter," He responded, putting his elbows on his table and lacing his gloved fingers together.
You waited for a moment, waiting for him to say more. When he didn't continue, you replied. "Yes."
"Everyone in Ketterdam is aware of your reputation to leaking powerful people's information," Kaz finally continued. "But that's not what's interesting. What intrigues me, is how you acquire the information in the first place, when the Wraith has never spotted you out in the open other than spraying on some random wall."
You shrugged. You had your ways, and if the Dirtyhands didn't know your methods, then there was no way you could reveal them. "I have my ways."
Kaz rose an eyebrow. "I can have you killed right here and now, did you know that?"
"And I’ve gotten out of these chains three minutes ago, did you know that?" You mocked him, shrugging the cuffs off and tossing them on his table. Inej moved, pulling out a dagger. Kaz put up his hand, and Inej paused, waiting.
You approached the desk, putting your hands on it and leaning forward, leaving half a feet of space in between your face and Kaz's.
"You want to know my methods so you can have the Wraith master them and use them," you said, leaning a bit more. "But then she can't. No one in this place can do what I can."
"I suppose there's an underlying deal somewhere in those words," Kaz hummed, seemingly unfazed by the distance.
You grinned. "Indeed there is. I can work for you, as long as I get paid. I'll do my thing, get your information, even infiltrate a few places if you like."
"Hmm," Kaz thought about it for a moment. "Two thousand kruge for each mission."
You paused. That would be enough to buy your food and pay your rent for a week or two, maybe even enough for some new clothes.
Yeah, you didn't have that good or luxurious of a lifestyle, but hey, money is money.
"Alright," You decided, sticking your hand out to seal the deal.
Kaz stared at your hand for a moment, before taking it. You pulled him up from his chair, face now barely away from yours. "If you think about double-crossing me and leaving me out in the cold, then you risk some of your own information being revealed... Rietveld." Your voice was barely louder than a breath, words only for Kaz’s ear.
His eyes widened, looking at you. Just the mere mention of his old last name, the one he shared with his brother, was enough for the water at his ankles to pool around his knees.
But you had already pulled away, brushing against the Wraith with a nod as you left the office without another word.
"What was that?" Inej asked — more like demanded.
Kaz didn't spare her a glance, his eyes glued to the door. It took him a long pause to reply.
"The start of another painful alliance," Kaz muttered, running his hand through his hair.
It should come as no surprise that jealousy with Kaz is a common occurrence. The green eyed monster making it's presence known almost daily.
Even towards others who Kaz knows aren't a threat to your relationship.
It rears it's ugly head whenever he sees others touching you in ways that he cannot.
Such as when Nina kisses your cheeks in greeting or when she takes you on a day of shopping, her being able to see or touch your form as she forces you to try on fancy gowns.
And when Jesper casually drapes an arm around your shoulders or picks you up into a bone crushing hug, twirling you all around.
The envy is prominent then, when Kaz witnesses his own Crows giving you simple intimacies without a second thought. Ones he should effortlessly be giving you and more.
But with Nina and Jesper, Dirtyhands is never resentful towards them for long and can move on as soon as he sees you smile at him.
Or when you show how comfortable you are around him, like after a long day when he sees you relax on the settee in his office or when you carelessly throw your over-clothes around your quarters with him there.
When he sees you so content being in his company he can almost feel slightly grateful to the sharpshooter and heartrender for being there for you in ways he is unable (almost).
Now, let's say you're recieving unwanted attention from a mere Pigeon at the Crow Club? Or even another member of the Dregs? That's where the problem starts.
If anyone, anyone, lays a hand on you without your consent then that's where, as Mathias is apt to call him, the real Demjin shows himself.
See Kaz is very good at threatening people. And when it comes to protecting you, when it comes to the little green eyed monster inside his head, he even gets great satisfaction out of torture if necessary.
For instance, say some seedy bloke is staring at you too much for too long, well Kaz might just have to gouge out his eyes so he can never look again.
A hand finds it's way to grope your hips, ass or chest? Kaz deems it appropriate that the offender should just have said hand cut off.
There is a reason why you feel safe walking even the shadiest of alleys or going into the worst of pleasure houses on your own after all.
It being a well known fear told throughout the streets in hushed tones of just who is protecting you and what happens to any that disturb you.
Kaz would sooner lose the Crow Club itself than admit whenever he's jealous but you can always tell.
After all, despite his sharp expression, his eyes are a dead giveaway to how he's really feeling.
And though you cannot touch him as freely as most couples can with each other, you have your own ways of subtly reassuring him that he has nothing to worry about.
You are his and he is yours and no hug from a friend or grope from a creep will ever change that.
Your relationship isn't lacking, despite his fears. Despite the lack of physical intimacy.
Because in your heart you know how much the bastard of the barrel loves you.
A/N: Hi guys! It's been a while since I have written so I'm sorry if this work isn't really up to the mark but please be kind. Do check out my masterlist though. 💛💖
Kaz was a man of logic and avoided asking himself philosophical questions if he wasn’t reading; but he often found himself questioning his existence when it came to Y/N.
He sighed. “Y/N.”
“I want to sit down!”
“Let’s just go home Y/N. It will only take us a few minutes.”
“No! The air is so cool tonight, I want to sit here!”
“Its winter Y/N. The air is cool all the time. You can freeze here tomorrow, but we need to go now.” Kaz pulled her up and she shuffled, trying to find balance.
“Why!?”
“We need to get inside now, or you’ll catch a cold.”
She huffed and plopped down on the street, crossing her arms over her chest. Again.
Kaz did not know how to deal with her. Y/N had never gotten drunk before. Well, not in front of him at least. And this version of her was just so…different.
He sighed. “Get up Y/N.”
She stilled visibly for a moment and then her lips pulled up in that mischievous smile of hers, that he knew spelled trouble, as a giggle slipped out of her that soon turned into a cackle.
His brow quirked up. “What happened?”
She shook her head as she bit her lip as if to coax her laughter into silence. “It’s just…” She hesitated.
Kaz was surprised to see drunk Y/N hesitate. “It’s just?” He wanted to hear this now.
“It’s just that you sound so hot when you’re being all bossy.” She erupted into giggles once again and he felt his face flame up.
He sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of sighing when it came to her. He rubbed a hand across his face and stepped towards her to pull her up but before he could grab her hand, he found his in her grasp as she pulled him down beside her. He sighed again and dropped his cane beside him as he tried to settle his bad knee. He got comfortable. Y/N, on a good day was stubborn but drunk Y/N, as it seemed, was a force to reckon with. He will need to be smart about convincing her.
He felt his face ware off due to the stare that burned him as he settled. He finally turned to look at her.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Why can’t I?” She huffed and jutted her chin. “It is your fault anyways.”
“My fault?”
She nodded, not backing down from the staring contest which he refused to lose. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face closer as her eyes continued to bore into his.
“Your eyes are so beautiful.”
His brows rose up to meet his hairline.
“They are so….blue. I want to paint them sooo bad. I even tried. But nothing is as good as the real thing.”
Kaz’s jaw dropped. Was she…flirting with him?
Y/N tilted her head and frowned. She closed his jaw and continued to stare. This was getting uncomfortable.
“How about I’ll let you paint them if you walk back to the slat with me right now,” he bluffed. There was no way she would remember this in the morning and even if she did, she would be too embarrassed to bring it up. He had to play his cards right if he wanted to get her to come home.
Her frown deepened. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah…. promise,” he stuttered.
She stared off the distance before nodding to herself. “Ok. Let’s go.”
Kaz’s lips twitched as he sighed with relief. Finally.
-------------------☆☆--------------------
Y/N had no idea what she had done to deserve this. She groaned as the light pierced her eyes. Why did she drink so much? She walked to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. Her eyes finally opened wide enough to actually see. She met the eyes in the mirror as she tried to gather a hold of her consciousness. How had she gotten home yesterday?
She blinked as the memories started to register in her mind. Her jaw dropped. No way. No fucking way. She did not say that to Kaz. She squeezed her eyes shut as her hands tried to rip out her hair from her scalp.
She let out a shrill groan and jumped on the bed, burying her face in her blankets.
It wasn’t THAT big of a deal. Kaz was her boyfriend. She could flirt with him all she wanted but…. But it was KAZ. There were some things he did not need to know. Like her obsession with his eyes. Saints! Why?
She huffed out a breath. She could tell that she was going to have to deal with a smug Kaz all day. Now normal Kaz could be a pain in the ass but a smug Kaz… She thought about the times whenever they had an argument and Kaz ended up being right. He never had to say, ‘I told you so’. His silence reeked of self-satisfaction.
She frowned.
"How about I’ll let you paint them if you walk back to the slat with me right now,”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah…. promise,” he stuttered.
She sat up straight. No way. He promised that. Kaz could not for the love of god sit still. He was an absolute workaholic. She had begged him to let her paint him only for him to blush and shut the idea down. She jumped out of bed. There was no way she was going to let this opportunity go to waste.
--------------------☆☆--------------------
Kaz was questioning his existence again as he sat by the window with Y/N right in front of him. He was desperately trying to keep his frown in place now that he had given up on trying to control his blush. Y/N had found that adorable.
His eyebrows furrowed with the strain.
“Hey! Stop squinting your eyes, Kaz.”
He rolled his eyes but relaxed them nonetheless. He gazed at Y/N has her tongue darted out and her mouth twisted in concentration. His lips curved up against his will.
