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jackwolfes · 9 months

Note

Wesper with 20 for the kisses ask game?

kisses on a scar (where it doesn't hurt)

CN: past physical abuse, implied sex

In the past two weeks Jesper has learnt many little things living in a Geldstraat mansion. He has learnt that he really rather likes having a private chef, and that he likes the way this chef in particular makes him waffles. He's also learnt that there is a right way to fold your napkin for dinner, a wrong way to dismiss a staff member when they bring up coffee, and that an expensive blanket really does make all the difference.

Jesper has also learnt that Wylan Van Eck is a fantastic person to live with and love.

Even though grief has worn them both down around the edges Jesper sees infinite light in his merchling's blue eyes. He hears unfettered joy in his laughter — because Wylan has laughed a lot lately — and savours every soft, lingering kiss.

He has also learnt that he rather enjoys the other kinds of kisses Wylan gives him.

Three days after that dreadful day a healer came round, sitting Wylan down and running gifted hands over each battered bruise. Jesper sat with him at his request, not holding his hand but wanting to. He watched each mark vanish, hearing the faint hitch in Wylan's breath as fractured bones knitted back together. Then the healer left them be and Wylan showed Jesper what sort of down payment he wanted to offer.

Now, Jesper gazes lazily across Wylan's bedroom, still feeling utterly satisfied from the night before. A smile lingers at the corner of his lips as the memories dance across his mind. Wylan is still tucked beneath his arm, breathing easily. The past few weeks have certainly been a learning experience, but Jesper's most recent educational endeavor has been discovering what way Wylan likes to be touched best if they're aiming to make him come.

Saints, had it been a good night.

"We can't stay in bed all morning," Wylan murmurs.

For the past fifteen minutes he's been drawing patterns on Jesper's bare chest with his fingertip. Naked beneath the blankets, the two of them are pressed together against each other. It thrills Jesper, feeling Wylan's bare thighs against his own. The very same thighs he was perched between last night.

"Mm," Jesper finally replies, trying to force himself to pay attention before he gets distracted and finds his body betraying what he's thinking about. "You sure? I can be plenty convincing, merchling."

Wylan laughs. He smacks his palm against Jesper's chest lightly, then pulls away. Jesper frowns at him and means nothing by it but joy. He watches Wylan stand, stooping low to snatch up the drawers he allowed Jesper to peel off him last night and tug them back on. He forgoes a shirt, though, meandering across the room to head towards his vanity.

From the bed, Jesper stares at Wylan's naked back. He is struck suddenly by the fact that he has never actually paid attention to Wylan's body without a shirt on. Until last night they've been sleeping in separate beds.

There is a scar.

Wylan has started messing around with some of the lotions on his vanity, head ducked down. It leaves Jesper with a clear view of the scar down the length of his shoulder blade. It is thin and corded, tracking unignorable variation over his pale skin. Jesper hadn't really looked at his back last night when the two of them were naked together, and he hasn't seen much of Wylan naked otherwise. But in this peaceful moment he has a perfect view of Wylan's uncovered skin, and cannot look away from the mark.

Jesper crawls out of bed, making his way over to Wylan almost cautious. No one can ever describe Jesper as careful, but Wylan is something he wants to take care with.

"I don't need you distracting me over here," Wylan calls over his shoulder, having spotted Jesper starting to move in the mirror. He catches Jesper's eye in a reflection. There's still a smile in his words, but suddenly all Jesper can imagine is the ache of a boy beaten and bloodied. "Jes?"

He blinks, not having realised just how distracted that train of thought made him or how close he ended up getting. When he looks at Wylan in the mirror again he sees his pale brow furrowed.

Before Jesper really thinks about it he's lifted his hand and brought his fingertips up to the scar on the back of Wylan's shoulder. Wylan's breath catches, a gunshot in the silence. Jesper freezes.

With effort, he sees Wylan swallow. He shifts, weight adjusting, but he doesn't edge away from Jesper entirely. His hand stays on Wylan's skin, glancing over the scar. For an eternal second, the two of them are silent.

Jesper breaks it first.

"On Vellgeluk," he starts. In the mirror, he sees Wylan shut his eyes. The after-image of regret is obvious on his shut eyelids and it makes Jesper feel awful. It feels like infinite years since that afternoon on Vellgeluk but they both remember the things that were said. The secrets spilled against their holders will.

Wylan stretches a hand up, brushing his fingers over the back of his shoulder. He can't quite reach it, but brushes against the edge of Jesper's finger.

"He didn't do it himself," he offers. There is no need to acknowledge who he is. "There was a doctor that told him—" Wylan inhales deeply like the words are fighting him. Jesper wants desperately to tell him he doesn't need to carry on, but he can't bring himself to. Regardless, Wylan presses on. "The doctor said beatings would help. Beltings. He didn't seem to care about folding over the metal. Pain clears the mind, apparently."

Jesper curses. Wylan's fingers twitch one more time, making Jesper too aware once more about the fact he's still touching something he shouldn't. He goes to jerk away but Wylan moves faster, grabbing for Jesper's hand and keeping it still. He has to stretch his arm backwards over his shoulder to do so but it does what he intends it to.

"It doesn't hurt anymore. It hasn't hurt in years." His voice is the softest whisper that betrays his vulnerability. Jesper won't say weakness, because Wylan is not weak. He is basalt glass. No acid inside his soul burns him.

But this kind of vulnerability is entirely different to the vulnerability they showed each other last night. This vulnerability is infinitely scarier.

Jesper exhales. It makes his breath ghost over the bare expanse of Wylan's shoulder. It ruffles curly red hair and makes the young man shiver. Before he can overthink it Jesper ducks his head and replaces the touch of his fingers with his lips. Wylan gasps, adjusting the hand that had been touching Jesper's finger to brush against the side of his head. Jesper inhales the scent of sweat and lemon soap, leaving his lips on the mark like he can wipe it away.

"Your father is a monster," he finally whispers, lips moving against Wylan's bare skin. Jesper glances up to catch Wylan's eye in the mirror again and sees him smile.

"Yeah," he says, "but the monsters I'm friends with are far scarier."

The thought makes Jesper laugh. He wraps his arms around Wylan's waist, hugging him back against his chest and relishing the warmth of him. One more time, Jesper kisses the back of Wylan's neck.

"Damn straight," he says. "Now, how about we ask your chef to make more of those waffles?"

#this one got rather long (and i smushed two together) but i had a really specific idea for this!#also none of these fills are being edited or proofread and i wrote this one in a car so sorry if it's got glaring errors lmfao #kiss prompts #wesper #soc #six of crows #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #asks #ace-kaz-brekker

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egret-orchids · 3 months

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for the love of language

Kaz Brekker was stubborn. When he had his mind set on doing something, he did it. No matter how difficult, no matter how simplistic. He wasn't sure what category 'learning his girlfriend's language' fell into.

Kaz lovingly and painstakingly learns precious few words in Suli just so that he can surprise his Wraith with them.

| AO3 | SOC Sideblog |

word count: 948

It wasn't an unknown fact amongst the Dregs and Crows that Kaz Brekker knew one language, and one language alone.

He was stubborn, and though his rough voice and the hints of an accent that stemmed from southern Kerch were normal for him, hearing him reciting words in Suli was... odd. Jesper recognised the language from the few times he'd heard Inej muttering the melodic syllables, although he suspected most of it was just curses and swears, much like Jesper's messy Kaelish.

Jesper didn't want to run the risk of Kaz murdering him for snooping, but he did regale this to Wylan over cups of tea in the merchling's basement workshop.

"I was just walking past- y'know, because he'd asked me to grab a map for a job, and I hear him mumbling in Suli." Jesper said, sighing dramatically. This elicited a small chuckle from Wylan, who sipped his tea and then replied; "I think he has some sort of plan. He's never bothered learning more than basic decencies in other languages, and even then they're not great in terms of pronunciation."

Jesper nodded. "He tried to say hello to my Da in Kaelish and I'm pretty sure he accidently insulted him." Even if the anecdotes his father told him weren't exactly true, Colm Fahey was probably justified in his distaste. Some words in Kaelish were similar to others, and a slight error in wording could lead a pleasant hello to turn into somebody's mother getting called a whore. And it was also Kaz, who would probably do something like that purposefully; fully aware of what he was doing yet still taking the chance to be an ass.

Wylan smiled at this. "Are you going to ask him about it?" he asked.

Jesper shook his head. "He'd probably break my arms and threaten to gut me and leave my intestines for the crows or something like that."

"It's Kaz, of course he'd say that..." Wylan laughed quietly.

"I certainly wouldn't put it past him." Inej said with a smile from the doorway, and Jesper nearly jumped out of his skin as Wylan waved to her with a small, shy grin on his face.

"Saints, Inej, do you have to do that every time?" Jesper complained, rolling his eyes fondly. Inej didn't reply, simply shrugging and stepping towards the two. She sat on Wylan's workbench and looked at both of them with mock-sternness.

"Kaz has a job for you two. Some merchant from Shu Han." Inej passed Jesper a small, folded slip of paper- Kaz's signature way of informing them all of jobs.

Jesper flicked the note open and cleared his throat. "Shu Han merchant ship docked in Second Harbour- Saints, it's like he doesn't want us around all day today- unloading into the Stadhall. Jesper has the map." he read aloud, and the way Wylan immediately hung on the gunslinger's every word with such affection in his eyes almost made Inej laugh aloud.

Wylan hummed in response. "So this merchant if working with somebody in the Merchant Council, then."

"Yeah, and he's obviously going to be..."

Inej slid off the table and walked away, leaving the other two conversing about Kaz's latest job. It didn't need her skills, and she had a feeling that Kaz wanted her nearby.

She pulled up her hood, opting to meet Kaz, wherever he was. She didn't bother climbing the rafters and jutting beams to get to the window or the roof of the building next door and have to climb around searching for him, not in this weather. Besides, she knew Kaz would either be in his office, or somewhere on the Zentsbridge.

As it turned out, Kaz was leaning on the bridge's railings, gazing into the murky grey-green of the canal. He didn't move as Inej's neared his left shoulder, but he did shift his bad leg slightly. "Hello, Inej. Don't you have a job you need to help out on?" he said quietly, though the slight smile in his voice betrayed his joking manner.

Inej breathed a laugh, leaning on the railing next to him, back to the canal. "I wanted to know what you were planning. You normally make sure I'm with Wylan and Jes just in case either of them get distracted, be it by each other of something else." she replied.

Kaz shrugged. "Who's to say I'm planning something?"

Inej rolled her eyes. "Kaz Brekker, do you need to be so stubborn?"

Kaz tilted his head, meeting her eyes. "No." he said simply. "But stubbornness got me where I am today, and it got you out of the Menagerie, didn't it?"

"My stubbornness or your stubbornness?" Inej chuckled.

Kaz didn't reply at first; instead he moved away from the bridge's railing, and turned to face Inej, face almost expressionless but his eyes were less cold then they normally were.

"Volim te." he whispered, just enough for Inej to hear.

She swore her heart stopped beating for a solid five seconds when he said that.

It was a known fact that Kaz Brekker, that Dirtyhands knew Kerch, and Kerch alone. His accent was southern, from somewhere like Lij, but his language was that of someone born and raised in Kerch.

My mother is Ketterdam, he'd said, she birthed me in the harbour.

"What?" Inej murmured, too surprised.

My father is profit. I honour him daily.

"Volim te." Kaz repeated, and Inej can't help but laugh.

"Your pronunciation is awful, Saints."

Kaz glared at her, but it wasn't serious.

Inej moved towards Kaz, about to hug him. She stopped. "May I?" she breathed.

Kaz nodded slowly, and Inej pulled him into a hug.

"I love you too, Kaz Brekker."

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wylxnvs · 2 years

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When Jepser calls Wylan “merchling” or “wy” or “Wylan Van Sunshine” on screen I WILL SIMPLY DIE. I CANNOT WAIT.

#six of crows #Jesper #jesper fahey #Wylan #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #WESPER

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 11 months

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Prompt: “You are not going without me.”

For Wylan x Reader please!!

INCOHERENT SCREAMING.

WYLAN. My darling, beloved Wylan? The light of my life Wylan? Y e s.

Your Life Over Mine - Wylan Van Eck

Content Warnings: No Beta/Proof Reading. Canon Compliant Threat And Violence. Explicit Language.

"You're soft on the merchling," Jesper says.

"And what if I am?" You ask, pressing your palms together. "What would the problem with that be?"

"Kaz would probably tell you," Jesper dips his hat, dropping his smile as he does his best Brekker impression. "Feelings are a waste of energy and honestly I dont believe in them, except for anger, I believe in anger. But all other feelings just get in the way of the job, and the job makes us rich, and I don't believe in love, because it's a feeling, but I'd love to be rich."

"He would drown you if he heard that pisspoor impression of him," you warn Jesper lightly. You let your eyes flicker to the shadows and back to Jes, preparing yourself for the startled jump about to follow.

"I dont know," Inej says sadling up to Jespers side silently. "I think he was pretty accurate."

Jesper jumps in his step and raises a hand to his chest. "How," his voice a little higher than his usual register, "do you always do that?"

"She wanted to be quiet, so she was," you say. Inej just nods at that explanation and Jesper asks no more as you arrive at the cobblestone corner, right in front of that black wooden door.

"So do you want to deal with this?" Jesper asks. "Since your sweet on him?"

"Shut up," you say, giving a quick hand gesture that makes Jesper fake a wounded gasp as you open the door and close it in his face.

"Kaz?" Comes Wylans voice through the dark.

"Not Kaz," you reply.

"Oh," his tone shifts and you could swear its excitement in his eyes as he pulls his goggles down to greet you. "I thought Kaz was coming by."

"Sent the lackies," you joke, "hope you don't miss him too much."

"I prefer you," he says. You raise an eyebrow but don't question it, he is cute when he is flustered and the boy quickly becomes flustered.

"I believe I was sent for a pickup?" You try and pull the point of the visit out of Wylan and he lights up with a sense of knowing.

"Right, right," he mumbles, hurried and eager as he moves across the room to collect something from his work table. He bundles a few vials and a small box of something in wraps and places them on the table. "The blue one you've got to be careful with, I tried to explain to... Brekker, but I don't think he was listening."

"Dirtyhands hears what he needs to," you say, "what he tells us is another matter all together, so why don't you give me a run down."

You listen to Wylan talk, and he talks fast and his voice hits high and lows as he shares more information than he needed to, and you listen, leaning against the wall, watching how excited he gets. You've never wanted to kiss someone as badly as you wanted to kiss Wylan as he rubs the back of his neck, laughing a little at himself in embarrassment about how much information he just gave about compounds.

"You're annoyingly cute, Sunshine, do you know that," you laugh, picking up the bundle.

"I am?" he asks, those eyes flickering up to meet yours.

"The irony of you feeling small when your smile could light up this whole damn barrel, had me sold on you," you laugh.

"It had you sold on me?" Wylan ducks his head, his smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Oh you're letting that go straight to your head," Jesper calls from the other side of the door.

"Jes I will take your own guns and shoot you with them," you warn him. He may be the other side of a wooden door but you know the exact face he makes as he raises his hands and steps back into the corridor giving you and Wylan space.

"Anyway," you clap your hands together, and let them slip into your pockets, "we have a job."

Wylan's smile drops. "Wait, you guys are going on this job?" he asks.

"Yes," you say, "that's why we are here."

"He didn't say," Wylan pauses and you can see the calculations he is doing in his mind, like he was writing them in the air around the both of you. "That is a very bad idea, the instability this will cause," he picks up a bottle with a similar colour liquid as one of the vials he gave you. "No, there are... not good odds."

"There rarely are in the barrel," you tell him. He shuffles his feet, and you can tell he is still running through the options. You're not sure why Kaz side-lined him for this, maybe it was Wylan's choice, not wanting to be really involved with the Dregs and their world, your world. But you knew enough about Wylan to know that he could cause serious damage, and he may not have the best practice in a fight, but you would not want to be on the receiving end of one of explosives Wylan puts together like it is nothing more than making a cup of tea. "Kruge for your thoughts?"

"One drop more than is needed on the turning mechanism and the whole system freezes up, a few minutes difference in timing between the triggers and the you are all stuck in there, you'll get caught if the shrapnel doesn't kill you first," Wylan looks so worried, he might combust. "Kaz must've accounted for that."

Your words were meant to bring him comfort, but they didn't, he looks resigned. "He did," Wylan says, and you don't know why the acquiescence in his voice feels so personal, but it does. "That's why he sent you." You watch him get his coat. "Let's go."

"You're coming with?" you ask. He nods. "Kaz said..." you don't bother trying to finish because the answer is clear in his eyes. Kaz knew Wylan would see all the ways this could go wrong, and Kaz knew that Wylan couldn't stand aside and let it happen, not if you were there. Because Kaz knew Wylan has a soft spot for you too. "I've gotten out of worse," you try gently, giving him an out, "Jesper says I am unseemly lucky."

"Luck runs out pretty fast in the barrel," Wylan responds, "let's go."

You know you aren't persuading him to stay, and you don't really try, you wouldn't let yourself get side lined, and if someone that mattered to you was involved in one of Kaz's typically nonsensical against all odds plans, you'd probably fight tooth and nail to be a part of it to, to keep them safe as much as you could. So instead you just lean over and plant a kiss on Wylan's cheek as he steps out the door.

He flushes a pink and you smile to yourself, stepping in front of him and next to Inej who is delicately flipping her knife over her fingers like it were a coin and not a weapon. "Make it through tonight," you say, "and then maybe we could get some of those waffles Nina keeps talking about."

Wylan nods, unable to meet your eye, but it's not shyness keeping him from you now, you see it in the way he is fidgeting, the way there is a smile a little too devilish creeping in the corners of his lips. He is keeping a distance because of the things he thinks he might do if he doesn't. You bite your tongue, this boy might surprise you yet. You know better than to underestimate him after all.

"Waffles," Jesper says enthused.

"Not invited," you tell him, tone full of warning as you point at him.

"Okay," Jesper holds up his hands in a faux surrender, "Saints you are bitchy today. You really do need to get laid."

"Jesper," you say pulling one of his guns from his holster and pointing it at him, "shut up."

#wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #wylan x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #wylan van sunshine #wylan van eck x reader #wylan my boy

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aphroditestummyrolls · 3 months

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26 + wesper? 💌

Hello! Sorry this took so long— the holidays are always a more difficult time to focus on writing, and then with Covid, jetlag, and the leftover annoyance of my sprained ankle, I’ve just been off my game.

Thank you for participating, though! And being so patient. These little prompts are really helping me get back in the saddle. And I LOVED writing this one. I think I might even continue it and make it a little oneshot.

Enjoy ❤️

Jesper Fahey couldn’t sit still. This wasn’t something that he was bothered by or defensive about when people mentioned it— not most of the time, at least. It was just a fact. As much of a fact as him having charcoal grey eyes, being devilishly handsome, and being able to shoot a coat button from a half mile away and around a corner.

He had a permanently restless mind— his thoughts raced from one thing to another, and his body was constantly fidgeting. He couldn’t keep up with himself sometimes. And he’d fiddle with his guns, or chew absently at his fingers, desperate for something to occupy him whenever he was idle.

Jes didn’t do idle. And if there was one thing smaller than his attention span, it was the likelihood that he’d been listening in the first place.

It wasn’t his fault his brain was so loud. So constant.

Unless it was a target, focus was just not a Jesper talent.

That particular night, though, Jesper had never stayed still for so long. It took effort to keep his mind in check, but luckily for him, his loud, hectic brain was only thinking about one thing: Wylan Van Eck.

A fluff of half singed curls tickled at the underside of his jaw. There was a puff of a pained whimper across his collarbone. The tip of Wylan’s sooty little nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Thank the Saints you stopped by to walk him home, he thought, his fingers twitching restlessly over his lover’s smaller frame. He was pressed to his side, a solid, grounding weight where they laid in the workshop's grotty old bed. If it had been worse, he could have…

Well, Jesper would’ve felt terrible for all the cracks he’d made about losing fingers. That was for certain.

He stroked his thumb along the knuckles of the hand he held— one, two, three, four, and a thumb curled loosely by Jesper’s palm. They were all present and accounted for under the fraying edge of the bandage tied there. It probably wasn’t the best patch job, but he was a bit rattled at the time. It would do until Wylan had slept off the worst of the headache— then they could find Nina and beg her help.

For now, it was just them. Just Jesper, really, listening to his own loud mess of overlapping thoughts while Wylan slept, curling in impossibly closer.

He works too much. These long days are too long, and he probably forgot to eat again, and I was too busy to stop by—

It left a pit in his stomach and a twitch in his muscles— to move, to pace, to do something more, even if there was nothing more to be done.

Wylan snuffled against his chest, and Jesper felt the clench of something desperate and warm wrapped around his heart. He pressed his lips to his merchling’s forehead, getting a nose full of his smoky curls while he did.

They’d need a bath when they got back. In a big way. The stench of the chemicals was more than the ventilation shafts could handle. Still, Jesper only held him tighter, feeling a little insane.

He would never forget walking into the workshop that night— the reek of burning chemicals in the air, the thick cloud of bitter smoke that made his throat sting and his eyes water. He was blinded by the dark plume of it, blinking rapidly as he fought to adjust to the dim lamps somewhere in the chaos. Still, Jesper ran down the stairs.

When he called Wylan’s name, he got nothing but stomach-churning silence.

It took a long moment of Jesper shouting himself hoarse, covering his nose and mouth with his— probably now ruined— pocket square, before he picked up the first signs of movement in the wreckage. There was a rattling cough, and then I’m here! He croaked out the words before dissolving into coughs. I’m- I’m alright, just wait—

With a sudden gust of wind, the vents were cranked open as wide as they could go. The noxious fog thinned and, finally, there was the slim silhouette of his lover. He was hunched over with one hand braced against the workbench. The other was cradled to his chest.

Jesper was at his side faster than he knew he could move. With the reassurance of that standing, awake, alive merchling in his arms, Jes’s brain immediately filled with a hundred shouted questions— what happened? Where does it hurt? Let me see your hand—

In the end, he didn’t need to say a word. Which was a good thing, because not a single word could seem to make it from his brain to his mouth. Wylan was leaning heavily into his chest, his knees wobbly enough that Jesper had to steady him with an arm around his waist. The other was nothing more than a blur, flitting uselessly across the smaller man’s frame like he could scan him for injuries.

My… he swallowed with an audible click, a breath from Jesper’s ear, my head. I hit my head.

Sure enough, there was a bloody mat of hair at the back of his head. His fingers came away stained red. Sucking his teeth nervously, Jesper’s brain got louder, but he didn’t say anything for the moment. Wylan’s eyes were glassy, but focused, and he took that as a good sign as he stroked lightly over his wild hair, trying to assess the damage better. It was so tender that even Jes’s barely present little probe was too much. Wy hissed.

Jes, please.

Okay— okay, Love. He carefully removed his goggles from the top of his head, and plucked the plugs from his ears. I’ve got you.

By the time he shuffled him over to the bed, the smoke had cleared. Jesper sighed at the state of it all— the workshop and the mad scientist included— and let himself revel for just a moment in sheer relief.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as it seemed.

Snagging a roll of bandages and a half-assed first aid kit from a shelf near the bed, Jesper could see that the smoke was much worse than the actual explosion. There was a splintered gouge in the workbench that would need sanding— as if anything ever got sanded in the Barrel— and a sooty stain where it all happened, but other than a few broken bottles and vials, it was no worse for wear.

Wylan must’ve been right there when the blast went off. The support beam behind the workbench had a small blood stain at just about head height for his merchling. He was sooty and singed, with only two perfect circles of clean skin around his eyes— at least he’d been wearing his gear. All that was hurt were his pretty little head, and a messy looking red burn on his right hand.

Alright, Jesper nodded, trying to remember what his da did to gauge Jesper’s head injuries growing up. Head first, merchling. D’you know your name?

Wylan’s lips twitched like he might laugh. A good sign. Wylan Van Eck.

Mhm. And where d’you live, Wylan?

The Slat, with- with my boyfriend.

He never got tired of hearing that. You’ve got a boyfriend? That’s a shame. Wylan managed half a little smile when Jesper winked at him. Come here often?

Jes, he sighed, my head hurts.

He cooed sympathetically, cupping his cheek as softly as he could with one hand while he used his sacrificial pocket square to smear away a little bit of the soot with the other.

I know, Love— you gave it a good, hard smack. But you’re not slurring, you’re not disoriented. So, that’s a point in your favour. Are you nauseous? Dizzy?

Jesper had had enough concussions to at least remember how they felt. Wylan nodded. A bit— the dizziness was pretty bad at first, I… I think I’m fine now, though.

Just in case, it was best not to move him yet. And by the time he was finished dabbing a burn salve into the raw skin of his hand and was tying off the bandage, Wylan’s pretty brown eyes were halflidded. He was swaying just a little where he sat at the edge of the bed.

Jes kissed the top of the bandage.

He supposed a little nap couldn’t hurt. The clock tower was striking 8 bells, and Kaz was sure to be wondering where Jesper had gone— he’d mentioned something about a meeting? He’d never given him a time, though, so he had no right to give him his disappointed face when they got back.

At least, Jes didn’t remember a time.

Well, something more important came up.

The most important thing was Wylan’s poor beleaguered head, pillowed on his chest. His steady breaths were leaving little puffs of warm air across Jesper’s chest. And with that bandaged hand held loosely in his own, his brain finally felt a little quieter.

#six of crows #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey

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sarcasticsouthernbookworm · 8 months

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Will never get over Bastard of the Barrel Kaz motherfucking Brekker winning a one on one with the Darkling using stage magic and one of Wylan’s bombs

The most evil person in the world is stalking toward you in a foreign country calling you out by name and all you’ve got is your limp you cane your spite and a bomb homemade by a disowned merchling

#fantastic #shadow and bone #kaz brekker #the crows #bastard of the barrel

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simplydifficultme · 1 year

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Who else is not ready to hear Jesper call Wylan 'merchling' on screen ?!! Saints.

#Like they HAVE to do that pls #Wesper #sab s2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2 #wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #jesper fahey

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stray-kaz · 9 months

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Swap With Me : a Jesper Fahey x f!reader oneshot

Summary: One bed trope with everyone’s favourite gunslinger. The Crows stumble to an inn, but there aren’t enough rooms. Wylan is assigned to share with reader, but Jesper begs him to swap and take the double with Nina instead.

A/N: reader is nicknamed Red, due to the distinctive red skunk streak in her hair.

Word count: 4.5k

18 and up, y’all.

It was almost impossible to see your own hand in front of your face when you eventually came upon the inn, stood a little ways back from the main road, candle lights flickering high in the windows.

“Oh, thank the Saints” you breathed out, leaning heavily against Inej’s shoulder.

She wrapped an arm around your waist and you rested your heads together, Kaz and Jesper a short distance behind, both eyeing you holding on to each other tightly.

“If only Matthias were here” Nina said idly, dragging her feet. “He could carry both of you.”

You grunted noncommittally, reaching out with your free arm to snag Wylan’s, pulling him to your hip. Jesper rolled his eyes and glanced at Kaz.

“She touches everyone” he remarked, under his breath.

“You’re preaching to the choir” Kaz muttered back. “She’s a great fence, but far too affectionate.”

Jesper watched you again, stepping in tandem with Inej and Wylan, and Nina’s head snapped around to lock eyes on his chest. She could almost have sworn she could see the material shifting, the force of his heartbeat was so powerful. She dropped a pace or two to walk beside him, and he glanced at her, eyebrows up.

“What can I do for you, Zenik?” he asked.

She tsked at him and directed her gaze towards the back of your head. Jesper followed along and bit the corner of his mouth, avoiding her stare.

“Mmhm?” he mumbled.

Nina smirked at him.

“Feeling a bit jealous, are we, Fahey?” she sing-songed. “Feeling a little hot under the collar, hmm? Want to be the one she touches when she’s weary and just wants to be held?”

Jesper’s jaw set hard. Nina scoffed, seeing he wasn’t going to bend to her whim.

“Oh, go on, Jesper” she groused. “Just tell her. You might learn something interesting.”

She moved away and pushed open the door to the inn before Jesper could call out after her, “Oh yeah, like what?”

Jesper hung around outside the inn, waiting with his hands in his pockets, idly ignoring Wylan. That is, until the others returned with a handful of keys and bad news. There were six of them and only four rooms, three singles and a double.

Jesper watched warily as Kaz handed out the keys.

“Inej and I have two of the singles, Jesper and Nina share the double, and Wylan and Red can share the last single” he declared.

Jesper levelled Wylan with a jealous stare. The younger man blinked up at him, confused and wide eyed.

“What?” he sputtered. “What’s wrong with that?”

This last he spoke as he took the proffered key, ornate and rubbed smooth along its curves. Jesper grabbed the remaining key from Kaz and waited until you were drifting in the direction of the rooms with the girls before turning on Wylan, his knuckles tightening around the key in his grip.

“Swap with me” he said urgently. “Please, merchling.”

Wylan’s eyebrows rose and he glanced over his shoulder to look for you. You had just disappeared around a corner, your skirt a few inches away from brushing the dirt.

“Why?” he asked, turning back and eyeing Jesper with suspicion. “I think Kaz bunked us together because I won’t cause her any trouble.”

Jesper rolled his eyes and thrust out his key, half tempted to stab it into Wylan’s chest to prove his point.

“I’m not going to cause her any trouble” he insisted. “Do you think that lowly of me? I just want to...tell her how I feel.”

It seemed as if Wylan’s eyebrows could not possibly go any higher; they were in danger of encroaching upon his hairline. However, his grasp on the key in his hand had begun to loosen and he took a half hearted step back in Jesper’s direction.

“Does she feel the same?” he asked quietly.

Jesper sighed heavily and shrugged.

“I have no idea” he admitted slowly. “But I want to find out. So...your key? Please?”

And then he felt it drop coolly into his palm and the other key tugged free of his fingers. Wylan wagged it in his face.

“Do not make me regret this” he said more forcefully than Jesper expected.

Jesper just scoffed and walked past him, finding you waiting outside of the locked room you had been assigned to. You were leaning on it, hips jutted out, a little impatient, arms crossed. The others were gone, nowhere in sight. But as soon as you saw him, you straightened your lazy pose and let your arms dangle down as you looked up at him.

“Kaz said I was sharing with Wylan” you said, sounding a little uncertain.

“I asked to swap” Jesper told you, looking slightly embarrassed, uncharacteristic of him.

Your eyes widened and you glanced down at the key in his hand.

“Why?” you asked, voice soft.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Oh. All right.”

Jesper half expected you to weigh him down with instructions and expectations of no hanky panky, but you said nothing, just moved off the door so he could unlock it.

The room was a decent size despite being a single, and the bed was large enough to fit two bodies relatively close together. The blankets were thick and well made, the pillows white and puffed up.

Jesper relocked the door and slipped the key into a pocket before releasing his gun belt and slinging it carefully onto the bedside cabinet. He turned to find you staring at him, your gaze shifting between his hips, seemingly naked without his guns, and his face. You had never been in such close quarters alone with him before.

“You want a bath first?” he asked quietly, shocking you out of your strange reverie.

You glanced down at the gunpowder and soot caked beneath your nails, lining your palms with grit, and nodded slowly.

“Yes, please.”

Jesper lounged back on the edge of the bed while he waited for you to finish, unbothered to finish unbuttoning his shirt after he had dropped his jacket onto a nearby chair. He sat up when you exited the bathroom shyly, clad in white underwear and a towel wrapped tightly around your upper body, hair dripping damply upon it. His mouth felt inexplicably dry all of a sudden.

“I don’t have anything clean enough to sleep in” you said quietly, shuffling on your bare feet.

Before you could say anything else, Jesper was on his feet, nimble fingers hastening to free the remaining buttons on his shirt. He tugged it out of the back of his pants and took two strides across the floor to hold it out to you, not missing the way your eyes flickered over his naked chest as you closed your fingers around the soft fabric.

“Thank you” you murmured.

He nodded and quickly turned around to give you privacy to pull it on, but as he raised his eyes to the opposite wall, he noticed the mirror reflecting you back at him. Before he shakily closed his eyes, fists tightening, he caught a glimpse of bare skin, the curve of a breast.

“You can look.”

The soft admission had him spinning back around, only to be confronted with something even more arresting: his shirt, violet and striking, hung down past your thighs, the sleeves rolled right up past your elbows. His eyes darkened, but you weren’t looking, instead apparently finding your bare feet endlessly fascinating.

“Red.”

You looked up then, startled by the softly hungering expression in his eyes.

“Yes?”

He inhaled hard, as if preparing for battle, but then his shoulders curved and he shook his head. He gave you a gentle smile and lightly bumped your shoulder as he passed you into the bathroom.

“Nothing” he said. “My turn.”

You said nothing more as the door closed behind Jesper, then bent to pick up the damp towel still lying on the floor by your feet. You focused on scrubbing your hair as dry as you could get it before combing your fingers through it and hanging the towel over the bathroom doorknob.

The bed was starting to look welcoming, the previous walk to the inn dragging heavily at your bones and tugging at your eyelids. You crawled under the blankets, closing your eyes the moment your head sank into the pillow.

Jesper padded out of the bathroom, leaving a golden lamp glowing on the counter behind him. He saw your curled up shape underneath the covers and tossed the matching towels onto the bathroom floor. He double checked the door to the room, checked over his revolvers, before he climbed in behind you.

He tried, he really did, to keep as edged away from you as possible, but when he felt himself beginning to slide right off the mattress, he realised he had no choice.

Your eyes blinked open drowsily when you felt the mattress cave in beneath you, your hips sliding backwards into the neat crook of someone else’s body.

Jesper. Jesper’s body.

You gasped quietly as you felt him line up perfectly with you, his back pressing warm against yours as he tried to work out what to do with his hands.

Jesper froze, I’m sorry on the tip of his tongue, when you reached behind you and pulled his arm over your waist, his fingers splaying wide over the front of his own shirt, one ring scraping against a button.

“Jes?”

“Hm?”

“You wanted to talk?”

He cleared his throat and ducked his head, inadvertently brushing his lips over the nape of your neck. He heard your sharp intake of breath and felt you push back hard against him, your own body seemingly taking over without your say-so.

“Sorry” you mumbled, shuffling away to the farthest edge of the mattress, which wasn’t all that far.

Jesper hooked you back with the arm still around your waist, his eyes closing halfway when he felt you where he wanted you most.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually” he muttered into your hair.

You managed a choked laugh.

“My body’s ineffable ability to not keep itself to itself?” you retorted, unable to keep from feeling the heat build in your cheeks.

“Not exactly, gorgeous” Jesper murmured, tightening his hand on your front. “Although, if my raw sex appeal is working for you, please do carry on.”

His tone was dry, light, but there was something buried under it that made you roll to face him, that one red streak of hair hanging in front of your face. Jesper carefully pushed it aside, the tips of his fingers lingering against your temple.

“I find it hard to breathe when you walk into a room, even harder when you walk out of it. I could kill the merchling every time he holds your hand or whispers something to you. I want to be Inej every time she hugs you and I would do anything to have Nina’s ability to hear heartbeats so I could hear yours and know how you feel about me. If you feel about me. Anything. Anything at all. Honey, I would -”

He stopped talking, his eyes widening when he realised where his hand was. You had dragged it from its place lazy on your hip to press against your heart. It beat into his palm, so forcefully he could have been holding it, so hard he could almost hear it.

“Feel it?” you whispered, and he nodded, eyes fixed on his hand, your chest rising and falling quickly beneath it.

“I feel it” he answered, his voice husky with repressed wanting.

“You do that to me” you told him. “And I can’t help it. I look for you every time I walk into that room you’re in. I look for your smile. The girls are my closest friends in the world, and you know Wylan isn’t interested in me like that -”

Jesper cut you off this time.

“But I am.”

You carefully untangled your hands from between your bodies and reached up to frame his ears with your fingers, his head in your hands.

“Please” you breathed out, sending a shiver down the length of his spine. “Show me?”

There wasn’t any time wasted. He crushed you to his chest, eager, breathing for you as his nose bumped yours. You pulled back, head reeling and dizzy, before sliding a leg across his waist and straddling him, leaning down to kiss him again, still barely able to process thought.

Jesper’s hands found their way to your hair, locking in, sculpting to the back of your head, nudging your lips apart with an insistent mouth. Your own hands fell from the sides of his head, one to his shoulder and the other to his chest, feeling the echo of your heart pounding beneath his skin.

You stopped and sat back a bit, opening your eyes to stare down at him. Jesper followed, up on his elbows to chase your lips, but quickly noted the look in your eyes and paused to wait. He waited while you gazed at him, drinking in his blown out dark eyes, the tiny furrow between his eyebrows as he watched you right back, the perfect slant of his collarbones, never broken, and the smooth expanse of his chest and lower abdomen. You shifted just a smidgen and just between your thighs a fine arrow of dark hair came into focus, darting out of sight below his waistline. He shivered as you traced it with a gentle fingertip, your gazes locked.

Heat burrowed beneath your skin as you spread your palms greedily over his chest, radiant heat beginning to pulse between your legs. You groaned a little; it had been so long, the feeling was making you fuzzy in the head. You were struggling to think. And Jesper was, well, he was Jesper. He was a fairytale, and how often did fairytales come true?

There was a gentle hand on your cheek and then a pair of warm lips brushing yours, a snatch of tongue there and then gone.

“Hey” he murmured against your mouth. “Get out of your head. Be here with me, Red.”

In answer, hot and bothered and out of wiser ideas, you took his hand from your cheek and guided it down to the southern pulse, a heart beating out of time. You were melted by his kiss, slow and heady, as he cupped your heat, circling the heel of his palm gently against the dampening front of your underwear.

Jesper hummed quietly, the vibrations tingling your lips. His palm bumped a little harder and he smiled as your mouth tugged away from his, open to pant warm air over his bare chest.

“You know, this isn’t what I was imagining when I asked the merchling to swap rooms with me” he murmured to you, tipping his head up slightly to suck gingerly on your lower lip; you whined in answer, eyes fluttering closed. “But I like it.”

Your fingers flexed on his chest, pressing little half moons into his skin. You didn’t manage a word, too intent on the growing fire stoking between your legs.

Already in bed on the other side of the wall, Nina smiled to herself upon hearing the two frantic heartbeats on top of one another. She glanced over at Wylan in the flickering light of a candle, but he studiously avoided her gaze.

“Sounds like they’re having fun” she murmured, raising her eyebrows at him.

Wylan rolled his eyes and pulled the heavy blanket up over his head.

“If I had known what was going to happen, I would not have given him the key” he muttered, words muffled by the blanket.

Nina laughed.

“Sweetheart” she said. “He only sees her in a room filled with people, and that girl’s temperature goes up several degrees whenever he so much as looks at her. Which is all the time. Believe me when I tell you, nothing else was ever going to happen.”

Wylan muttered in Fjerdan, that Nina understood perfectly, and rolled to put his back to her. He wished he could block out the sounds, but they were only getting louder.

“Feeling good, love?” Jesper murmured into your mouth.

There was no air to breathe, let alone speak. He grinned and pulled his hand away, swallowing your whine of protest and strong arming you onto your back. You reached up behind you to grasp the headboard as his lips latched onto your pulse, pulling it between his teeth as he started to undo every button on his shirt you wore, each button you had painstakingly done up barely an hour earlier.

Jesper spread the two halves of fabric open, covetous eyes soaking in the sight under him. He smoothed his hands down your sides, just barely grazing the sides of your breasts and making you writhe underneath him, hips trapped between his knees.

“Where do I begin?”

You opened your eyes and stared at him, stunned. His eyes were alive, lamplit from within; he looked like the cat who got the cream. You wiggled in the trap he’d put you in, striving in vain to lift your hips, find an ease to the ache. He chuckled warmly and the sound sent liquid heat sliding down your spine.

At last, Jesper settled away from you and watched as your knees fell weakly open, abandoning the struggle. His gaze roamed along the length of you, his chest rising and falling gently. He shifted slightly on the mattress, drawing your attention to the tension between his own thighs. You blinked and clamped down on your bottom lip.

“Jesper” you said softly, feeling your cheeks flush hot. “You don’t have to draw it out...we can just do it now, yeah?”

His brow furrowed and he glanced down at himself before returning his gaze to yours. He shook his head slowly and leaned down over you to trail his lips from yours to your ear, leaving you trembling.

“No” he breathed.

“No?”

He began to make his way down your body, laving kisses over your skin. At your lower belly, he shook his head, tip of his nose dragging over your belly button, curls tickling your sensitive skin. Leaning his head against your stomach, he hooked his fingers into the sides of your underwear and began to drag them down. Halfway down your thighs, he stopped, something having caught his eye.

Almost as an afterthought, he pulled your underwear the rest of the way off and dropped it on the carpet beside the bed, before focusing fully on your left hip. You let go of the headboard and leaned down slightly to see what he was looking at.

“Oh” you mumbled. “You haven’t seen that before?”

He arched a perfect eyebrow at you, scandalous.

“Now how would I ever have been privy to this before tonight?” he asked you. “Red, you’ve been holding out on me.”

You fell back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, smiling slightly as Jesper drank in the vibrant tattoo marked over your left hip, scarlet poppies twining out of sight. You cried out suddenly, though, as he grabbed you, moving you this way and that, eager to see where it ended. The final poppy bloomed at the base of your spine and you giggled as he ghosted his fingertips across it. The giggles dissipated into breathless hiccupy moans as Jesper peppered kisses over the tattoo, dragging the tip of his tongue over the short stems and sucking bruises into the centres.

Before long, you were writhing again, gasps hitting the ceiling, Jesper careful to keep his mouth always inches away from where you most wanted it. And when you finally grew too impatient and pushed his head further down, you felt his grin press against your inner thigh.

Then the breath left you in a rush and the world went still as he mouthed gently over you, the tip of one finger rubbing treacherous circles around your clit. Jesper watched you from between your quaking thighs, tawny eyes peering up at you over the arm that was holding you down to the mattress.

If pleasure could kill, you’d be dead already. He kept you at the edge, stalling, again and again, his deadly fingers working in perfect concert with his wicked mouth. In fact, if you ever survived this night, you might just pay him back, see how he liked it.

“Okay, okay, okay” you gasped, wriggling just far enough away up the bed to cause Jesper to follow.

“What?” he asked you, feeling a little drunk.

He was caught off guard by you lunging for him, catching your fingertips in the sides of his undershorts and tugging down hard on the soft cotton. His grin snagged the corner of your mouth as he kissed you, playfully swatting your hands away and taking over for you.

“Eager much?” he teased, and groaned when you wrapped your hand around him, reminding him you still had power.

His hips stuttered, pushing into your palm, and he crowded into you, chasing your kiss swollen lips. One hand digging into the mattress by your shoulder, the other found yours and guided it in stroking him firmly, up and down, until he was a shuddering, shaking mess, his tongue pressed up behind your teeth.

And then he gently pulled your grip away, shaking his head. You looked up at him, worried, but he offered you a half shy smile in reassurance.

“I don’t want to finish like that” he explained, his voice rough.

“Oh. Oh.”

The flicker of hope in your voice made him smile again and he nuzzled down your jaw, calming his pounding heartbeat a little before beginning again. He breathed you in, a heady mix of soap and clean sweat.

Then...

“How do we do this?” he mumbled, seemingly to himself.

Before you could reply, confused, he ran his hands beneath you and flipped you onto your stomach. From there, he tugged you up onto your hands and knees, grasping onto your hips high in the air. At first, you panicked; you had never been in this position before, but then Jesper sheathed himself, hot and slow, and your eyes rolled, your mind washing away to nothing but blind pleasure.

He curved himself over you at first, plastering his lean stomach to your back, and you could feel his heart pounding against your heated skin. Your knees bounced down into the mattress and back up, your wrists locked until they couldn’t handle the strain any longer and you collapsed onto your forearms, crying out as Jesper suddenly slid even deeper.

He pulled back a little, admiring the slope of your neck and the curve of your shoulders. He sat back on his knees, grinning as you shuffled to follow, seemingly unaware of your own movement, only chasing the feel of him. He arched back into you, hips bucking lazily, enjoying the tight heat surrounding him and the way you tried to keep up, your eyes tightly shut and lips bitten red.

He reached around you suddenly, grasping gently at your breasts, and you went easily with his hands, mewling as he rubbed and tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

“You glad it’s me here with you?” Jesper panted in your ear, his thigh muscles burning. “The merchling could never, gorgeous girl.”

You groaned and, with effort, turned your head to look over your shoulder at him. Filled to the edge with exquisite Jesper, you still managed to narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the tremble in your voice and the quiver in your hips.

“How about you shut up and get to it then?” you demanded. “Less talk, more action, sharpshooter -”

Jesper didn’t let you finish that sentence. He hauled you down onto all fours again and leaned up tall on his knees. A whole body shiver rolled over you as he whispered crudely in your ear.

“You want me to shoot my shot, love?” he rasped. “Hold still.”

And he started to move you, sliding you on and off him, manhandling you back and forth, impaling you on every upward thrust, his strong hands, the hands of a farmer’s son, holding you firmly, the rings on his fingers branding your fevered flesh. And you were falling apart, unable to muffle any sound as he held you up, away from the pillows. You sobbed his name, fists curled in the sheets, your inner walls clinging to the length of him.

Nina lay unstoppably awake, all too aware, knowing Wylan was likely still awake also. Yours and Jesper’s heartbeats thumped through the thin wall and the headboard shook against it, accompanied by clear sobs and drawn out moans.

“Jes...!”

Nina rolled her eyes and dragged a pillow over her head, squeezing her eyes shut even as she couldn’t help but give an unseen wry smile. She had known for months that, whether she meddled or not, it would come to this. You would lay in Jesper’s arms and he would never let you leave, and you would never want to.

Jesper came with a litany of Zemeni words you didn’t understand, your name tumbled in with them, but when he collapsed to the side and tugged you with him, you saw his face, his easy smile, and knew they must be good words.

“You’re bossy” he slurred good naturedly, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

You scoffed, but burrowed further into him, tucking one leg in between his.

“If I’m bossy, you’re recalcitrant” you mumbled back.

He snorted a laugh.

“Whatever” he yawned then. “Whatever we are, I’m tired. Sleep?”

You nodded and closed your eyes, pressing your cheek into his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat coax you down into dreams.

In the morning, when you and Jesper emerged from your shared room, the others were already waiting. You glanced from face to face and knew they all knew. Kaz’s expression was deadpan, giving nothing away, but Inej was failing to hide the secretive smile curving her lips at the corners. Wylan’s eyebrows were drawn low as he eyed Jesper grumpily, stifling a weary yawn. Nina, on the other hand, looked exultant.

“Have some fun last night, you two?” she chirped brightly. “It sure sounded like it.”

Your eyes widened and you blinked at her.

“What?” you demanded.

“This inn has very thin walls” Nina told you, tossing Jesper a mocking salute. “Nicely done, Fahey.”

Jesper blinked rapidly at her as Wylan stormed right up to him and jabbed a hard finger into his chest.

“If I had known, I would not have given you my key” he growled. “You monster! I couldn’t sleep!”

You shied away from him and wrapped an arm around Jesper’s narrow waist, slipping a hand into his back pocket. You patted gently and he jumped; Nina grinned, a feline grin.

Kaz rapped his cane on the ground, catching everyone’s attention.

“Now that we are all aware of the current events, shall we go?” he asked pointedly.

Jesper ducked his head deferentially and draped an arm over your shoulders, rubbing your arm affectionately.

“Yes, boss.”

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey x female reader #shadow and bone fic #soc fic #six of crows #liss writes

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