steponmeinejghafa

Hi there! I'm Anne, and I see you've stumbled upon my humble corner of he internet. Below is a masterlist of all my imagines, to make searching a bit easier!

Requests are: Open [✔] Closed [•]

Rules: 1. No smut for the boys because I am canonically a lesbian <3 At most I will write fluffy stuff for them. 2. Only parental/platonic/sibling imagines for Wylan because he is my precious gay child. 3. No age gap, no incest (because yuck wtf), absolutely NO teacher x reader, however 'legal' it may be. 4. Only tame kinks in smuts (Like praise, degradation, choking at most. Mommy kinks to a definite minimum.) 5. I am hopeless at poly imagines and relationships so please- don't-don't ask for them.

Character lists below the cut <3

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Summary: Alina finds some letters you'd written to her, and her grief begins to worsen.

Alina Starkov x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Very, very, very sad. Mentions of death, sadness, loss, grief.

Note: I'm changing the format of my posts a bit from now, and because I am way too lazy, I won't update the look of my previous posts. Just know that from now, my posts will look a bit different <3 Thank you!

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Summary: Nina teases you while you work, which leads to an interesting punishment...

Switch!Nina Zenik x Switch!Fem!reader

Word count: 5.5k

Smut, (i'm a minor so it would be hypocritical to say minors dni-), choking kink, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, praise. Implied buff!reader (cause muscles on women are hot af), reader calls Nina ‘pet’ as a dom term of endearment/just a thing when they doing the dirty (idk what that’s called), oral (Nina receiving, then reader), begging. If there’s anything more, lmk &lt;3

Note: *sigh* i have written smut before, yes. but that doesn't necessarily mean it's good. read at your own risk, loves <3.

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Kaz had assigned some paperwork for you to file, given that he was a bit preoccupied with the finances of the Crow Club that week. Bills were to be paid, but he was too preoccupied with business and forgot to assign it to anyone else.

Technically, he didn’t trust anyone else with his precious kruge.

You sat at your desk in your room, reading glasses perched atop your nose, and were reading through the fine print carefully of a contract signed by one of his newest employees.

You suddenly felt someone’s arms wrap around your shoulders, and a familiar voice whisper, “Hello, darling,” in your ear.

You put a hand up to hers, which were interlocked just above your chest and turned your head to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Hello there, my love.”

“Are you very busy at the moment?” She asked, resting her cheek against yours as she looked at the papers you were reading.

You hummed, “I am a bit busy, my love. Kaz gave me this mountain of bloody paperwork to file, because he needs to deal with his precious children.”

“What?” She chuckled, confused.

“Bills, my dear, bills,” you laughed, letting your hand fall from hers back onto the paper you were reading. “He’s dealing with his precious kruge, because he literally would rather die than let someone else do it.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “I was hoping we could have some…alone time.”

“Of course, love, I’ll finish up as soon as possible, then perhaps we could cuddle for a bit before dinner,” you nodded, oblivious to her suggestive tone.

“Not that kind of alone time, darling,” she giggled, her hands sliding a little lower from where they were before.

Your breath hitched and she giggled softly at your realisation and reaction. “Oh- you mean that kind of alone time, hm?”

She nodded and smiled, “Yes…”

You sighed softly. The offer sounded so tempting, but you had to finish this today, otherwise Kaz would flip out.

You took her hand and kissed the palm of it, saying, “After I finish this work, my love. Kaz will murder me if I don’t get these filed by today.”

She whined, “But Y/n…”

You raised a brow at her and said, “Nina, what have I said about whining?”

An idea sprang to her head. If she couldn’t get you away from the desk by playing nice, she would get you away by playing dirty.

“Come on…” she said, “Don’t ‘top voice’ me now.”

“Darling, given that I am the one making you feel good, I have all the liberty to use my ‘top voice’ as you call it. Especially when you act bratty,” you chuckled, continuing to do your work.

“I will have you know, I am not a brat,” she scoffed playfully.

You pulled her to your side and wrapped your arm around her waist, squeezing gently. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Well then, you get on with your work.”

“Thank you, darling,” you smiled and looked up at her, just barely missing the glint in her eye. “I’ll give you a nice reward later.”

Little did you know, she had other plans in mind…

You continued to work while Nina busied herself with a book, comfortably adjusting on your bed.

She wasn’t really reading, because she was watching you closely. Watching your brows furrow in concentration, seeing the veins in your arms and hands flex just a little as you noted down the file number on a paper. It drove her positively insane.

Your shirtsleeves were rolled up till your biceps, and you had undone the top two buttons, given that the room wasn’t exactly cold that evening. Her eyes strayed down to your neck, then further down to your chest. You’d decided to wear suspenders that day, and they curved over your chest just enough for her to imagine what lay beneath.

Her stomach warmed slowly, as a familiar pulse erupted between her legs. Saints, she just had to look at you, and she’d feel things.

“I know you’re staring, love,” you chuckled. “It’s too obvious.”

“Well pardon me if I’m staring at my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend,” she replied, crossing her legs over each other, trying to release the pressure on her center.

You heard the rustle of fabric and turned around in your chair, e/c eyes trailing over her figure. You didn’t miss the tightly crossed legs, and smirked slightly.

“Eager, are we?” You asked, your voice suddenly an octave lower than it usually was.

Nina shrugged, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not,” you shook your head and continued to work.

She exercised some restraint, but gave up the moment you undid another button of your shirt, showing just the top of your cleavage.

Walking over to you, she bent down and kissed your cheek, making you ‘aww’ softly. However, that quickly turned into a sharp intake of air as she kissed lower and lower, till her lips were attacking your neck hungrily.

“N-Nina, I have to work…” you sighed, your chin tilting back to give her more access. You were about to tel her to stop, but when se slowly sank her teeth into the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, your hand went up to grip her hair slightly as your voice trembled, “S-Saints, don’t you dare stop now…”

However, just as she heard you say that, she ran the tip of her tongue over the deep purple mark lightly, making you shiver, before stepping back and going back to the bed, sitting there with her book again.

“You little tease,” you grumbled under your breath.

“Go back to your work, dear,” she smiled innocently as you glared at her.

“Don’t pull that innocent look on me, darling,” you scowled. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“My love, I am not doing anything!” She gasped, mock-offended.

Your brow raised, “Oh really?” You pulled your collar aside and asked, “This doesn’t count as not doing anything, love.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She really had done well, because right there was a deep mark on your skin; a result of her handiwork. Shaking off the sudden pressure between her legs she shrugged, “I can barely see a thing.”

“You sure you want to play that game, pet?” You asked, using a term of endearment you only brought out when she had really, really annoyed you.

Nina felt her body almost quake at your voice and the name, but kept up her demeanour. “I’m not playing any game, my love.”

Your eyes narrowed as you went back to your work, barely able to think as your mind strayed back to the feeling of her lips on your neck.

Nina watched your tense posture, and could feel your heart pounding, and blood rushing through your whole system, your brain going haywire.

Feeling like causing more mischief, with a gentle wave of her hands, she elevated your heart rate a little and slowly made the blood rush to your core, causing you to inhale sharply, and moan ever so softly. You leaned back in your chair, head tilted back in ecstasy.

“Saints, Nina…” you whined as she slowed your heart rate this time, causing the world to go slightly hazy around the edges. She giggled softly and made more blood rush to your core, which made you grip the arms of your chair tightly. “W-what are you d-doing…” the sentence ended in a breathy moan as she played carefully with your heart rate, making it increase and decrease at just the right times.

“H-have mercy…” you whimpered, “Darling, please…”

Hearing you beg was the hottest thing Nina had ever heard. She let your heart rate be, but still made sure there was a significant amount of blood rushing between your legs. But given what she had been doing moments prior, she didn’t even have to use her powers.

You ran a hand through your hair, your heart pounding in your chest. That had felt so good.

But by all the Saints, this girl was in so much trouble.

“Nina,” your voice was a bare whisper, as you barely kept yourself from lunging at her in a lust-driven stupor. “Come here…right now.”

Saints, she was fucked.

Your voice was low, husky, and barely a whisper, but she heard your frustration beneath it, warning her that it would be very unwise to resist.

She slid off the bed as you stood up and leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed over your chest.

“That’s right, good girl,” you cooed as she stood in front of you. “You don’t have the courage to be a brat now that you know you’ve screwed up, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not,” she said. “I just think I’ve played with you enough.”

You raised a brow and wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer to you. “I suggest you watch your words right now, my girl.”

“Or what?” She asked, waving her hands behind her back to slow your heart rate again. Your eyes rolled back slightly but you composed yourself, grabbing her by the wrists and pressing her against the nearest wall.

“Mess with my heart rate one more time, and I’m tying your damn hands together,” you seethed, pinning her arms above her head by her wrists.

“You liked it, don’t deny it,” she grinned, leaning closer, wanting her lips to press against yours desperately, wanting to feel your frustration on her skin. “I saw how your eyes practically rolled back in your skull just moments ago.”

“Oh, you think you’re so fucking smooth, don’t you? Messing with me like that?” You asked, grabbing her chin in your hand, pulling her face closer to yours. “Well you’re in for it now, darling.”

“I-“ she shuddered as you caught her lips in yours, pulling her bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft moan from her end.Her hands went to your neck, but you caught her wrists and pinned them against the wall right beside her hips. Her lips were soft, familiar against yours, and you could feel the desperate little whimpers at the back of her throat against your lips.

Pulling away, you gazed into her drooping eyes, the pupils blown wide in her dark irises. She pushed her hips against yours, and shuddered as you let go of her wrists to trail your fingertips gently down the column of her neck to her chest, right above her cleavage.

“Going to apologise yet, my love?” You asked, eyes still fixed on your fingers as they moved up and down her neck, making her weak kneed as she shook her head.

“I didn’t do anything that bad…” she whimpered as you bent your head down to kiss her neck, “…for me to apologise.”

You wrapped a hand around her throat, moving away from her neck as you used your other hand to pull at the laces of her corset. “Looks like you’re in for a punishment then, pet…” you gently squeezed, causing her eyes to roll back in her skull. The sight pleased you to no end.

“P-please…” she begged, grinding against you desperately.

You raised a brow and pushed her hips in place with your free hand, saying, “Did I say you could please yourself, my love?”

“S-saints…” she stuttered. The pressure on her core was building now, every second your hands were on her neck had her wetter and wetter.

“Alright, let me let go of your neck, just so you can breathe..” your hand was about to move back, but she shyly whined out a ‘no’.

“No?” You asked incredulously. A little laugh escaped your lips as you moved your hand away, despite her plea. “Saints, you’re such a little slut, you know that?”

She looked up at you, giggling weakly, “Only for you.”

You grinned a bit and folded your lips into your mouth, thinking for a second before you pulled her close to you, hands resting on those glorious hips of hers as you kissed her, lips parted and tongue running across her lower lip. The sounds you pulled out from her were music to your ears, and you felt your own body thrumming with desire.

She felt her eyes flutter closed, her hands going up to your face as she held it, keeping you close to her as your hands fumbled at her corset to pull it off properly. Her hands fisted in your hair as you reluctantly pulled away from her now swollen and plump lips, and attached your own to her neck, kissing hungrily.

The scent of roses overwhelmed you, her perfume wrapping you in a deep embrace. You were aware of her hands in your hair, moaning softly as she tugged at it every time you marked her creamy skin.

“Y/n, d-don’t tease me…” she whimpered as your lips travelled lower, right to the top of her chest.

Scattering more marks on her pillowy skin, you mumbled against it, “Brats can’t demand when they’ve been naughty.”

She threw her head back against the wall, her back arching off it as made to pull down the top of her dress to reveal her chest. A slight shyness overcame her, and with the tensing of her body and ceasing of her noises, you knew it as well.

“Don’t be shy, pet,” you cooed, looking up at her with gentle eyes. “I want to hear you nice and loud for me.”

She nodded, saying, “Alright, my love. P-please…go on…”

“Hm…clothes off,” you hummed, stepping back. Seeing her hesitate, you added in a sterner voice, “Now.”

Hastily she obeyed, and in seconds, she was naked before you. You motioned for her to lay down on the bed, and she did just that, making your stomach flip in anticipation.

“How should we begin, darling?” You asked, sitting beside her, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on her lips. “Shall I do this…”

Your hands wandered to her left breast and you took the nipple in between her fingers, twisting it slightly. She arched her back a bit, whining softly.

“Oh you like that, do you darling?” You asked, moving your hand away from her breast, pulling off your suspenders and throwing them aside.

Slowly, you pulled her onto your lap, kissing her hungrily, your lips colliding hard and fast against her, hands on her bare, soft waist, her chest pressing against yours. You felt her hard nipples against your skin through the thin fabric of your cotton shirt, turning you on impossibly more.

Her hands wandered to your shirt, but you held them back with yours behind her back, raising a brow. “Have you apologised yet, pet?”

Through heavy lidded eyes and deep huffs of breath, she shook her head and exhaled, “No…”

“Well, then you’re not undoing my shirt anytime soon, my girl,” you chuckled.

“Y/n- please…I-I need you…” she whimpered as you held her carefully, turning so that her back hit the sheets, and you were hovering above her, hands interlinked with hers, as you kissed her again.

Honestly, you felt like you got drunk off her kisses, off her skin, off her. You trailed your lips reluctantly away from hers, and took her right nipple sharply in your mouth, making her arch against you, her head pressing back into the pillow. You sucked on it agonisingly slow, and felt her strain against your hands, which kept her firmly pinned to the bed.

“Apologise, pet…” you removed your lips from her breast.

“N-n-no…” she whimpered, shaking her head.

You sighed, “And here I thought you were going to make this easier for yourself.”

You sucked and gently but at the soft skin of her breasts and nipples, pulling out the most satisfying sounds from her with every touch, every brush of your lips.

You let go of her hands when you moved lower, past her full hips, and to her very wet pussy.

You gently dipped her finger in her, making her mewl pathetically and squirm under your touch.

“Saints, you are soaked,” you crooned, moving your hand away, earning a groan from end.

“Y/n why…” she whined, but you were having none of it.

Gently you kissed down her thighs, on those soft thighs, you kissed till inside them, feeling her shudder under your touch, and smirked as you held her hips in your hands firmly, attaching your lips to her clit harshly.

The loud, choked out moan which practically tore itself from her lips was music to your ears as you grazed your teeth gently against the bundle of nerves, and hummed in devious pleasure upon noticing her hands fisting the sheets so hard, her knuckles were white.

Removing your lips from her clit, you breathed, “Tell me when you’re about to cum, pet…fail to do so and I’ll keep you on the edge for the next month, understood?”

She nodded, but you leaned up and held her chin harshly in your hand, “Words, my girl.”

“Y-yes, I understand…” she whimpered, leaning up and kissing you desperately. Your body thrummed more, but you pushed down the feeling. You’d please yourself once she learned her lesson.

“Good girl,” you chuckled deeply, pulling away. “Ready to apologise?”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. Her chest was heaving, and her cheeks were flushed pink as a slight sheen of sweat glistened on her oh-so-perfect skin.

You frowned, “You just don’t fucking learn,” you dipped your head back down, this time sucking on her clit more harshly, your hands gripping her thighs as she draped her legs over your shoulders desperately.

You felt her wetness drip onto the fabric of the bed and chuckled to yourself softly, sending a sudden vibration up her body.

She was a mess by then, her pupils blown so wide that her green eyes were almost black, her hands clutching she sheets while you ate her out.

Slowly, agonisingly, you licked a bold stripe up her dripping pussy, making her push her hips into your face more.

“Aren’t you an eager little whore for me…” you whispered, making her mewl out a ‘yes’ so pathetically it almost made you laugh. You had a hold so tight on the great Nina Zenik, that you could take her from sassy to submissive in a matter of seconds.

You continued licking just at the surface, making her whine and beg you for more. The room grew warmer with the heat radiating off you both, making a bit of sweat glisten on you, too.

“Want me to go further?” You asked, feeling the satisfying taste of her on your tongue, craving more by the second.

“Yes, oh Saints, yes please,” she panted, half her words lost in a breathy moan here and there.

“Beg me, pet,” you said. “Beg me like you mean it.”

She groaned and begged pathetically, “Y/n, please, please fuck me hard, I beg of you, please…”

Satisfied, you squeezed he thighs gently saying, “Such a good little slut for me…begging so nicely…”

The moment your statement finished, you attacked her pussy wit your mouth relentlessly, tongue going in and out, coating your chin in her wetness as you went back up to suck on her clit again.

After a few moments, you felt her walls clenching around your tongue as you ate her out mercilessly, reaching every single end of her dripping cunt.

“F-fuck, darling, I’m going to—“ she moaned loudly as you curled your tongue, hitting her g-spot miraculously.

Hearing her words, you stopped immediately, lowering her hips and moving her legs off your shoulders.

“No!” She wailed, let’s quaking as you wiped your chin slightly. “P-please, don’t do this, I’m begging you…”

“Begging isn’t gonna save you now,” you chuckled darkly, licking your lips which were still moist with her slick, before kissing her deeply.

She inhaled sharply and kissed back instantly, moaning as she tasted herself on your tongue.

You kissed her constantly, looking into her eyes softly as you inserted your ring and middle finger into her slowly, your expression daring her to move her hips for you to go faster.

“F-faster, p-please…” she begged, whimpering and using every ounce of willpower in her not to grind against you.

“Do brats get to beg, pet?” You hissed, using your free hand to wrap it around her throat. Her eyes rolled well back in her head as she gasped out ‘no’, making you smirk, “Exactly. Take my fingers at their pace like the good little slut you are, and don’t fucking ask me to go faster or slower, until you’ve apologised for that stunt you pulled.”

She groaned in annoyance, whimpering as you sped up without warning, pounding your fingers into her mercilessly as you attached your lips to her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her.

The second she said she was going to cum, you pulled your fingers out and stopped your movements, watching her squirm and shake with satisfaction.

Three times.

Three times you did this till she got fed up of the buildup in her stomach not getting released. Till she couldn’t take the throbbing in her heat anymore, till she just had to release herself one way or another.

“I’m s-sorry…” she whimpered, tears beginning to pool in her eyes as you pulled out for the last time.

You smiled, “Sorry for…?”

“For teasing you while you worked,” she said, eyes fixed on you above her. “And for acting like a brat.”

“Such a good girl” You praised, pressing a loving kiss to her lips, “That wasn’t so bad, now was it, darling?”

“I-I- please..I need to cum, Y/n…” she whined, pushing her hips up towards you.

“Of course,” you smiled. “Good girls always get rewarded.”

You pushed two fingers back into her twitching pussy, going at a reasonable pace; not to slow or fast. She moaned your name loudly, her sounds filling the room nicely as you fingered her more gently.

“Faster…faster, please…” she begged, bucking her hips desperately.

“Of course, my love,” you smiled and increased your pace, making her squeeze her eyes shut and press her head back inside the pillow, back arching upwards. Her hands pulled you up by your face so she could kiss you, and you smiled against her lips, still pumping your fingers in and out.

She felt the buildup in her stomach threaten to release, and she whimpered, “I-I’m gonna cum…saints, I’m going to cum so hard…”

“Go ahead, pet,” you whispered adoringly. “Cum for me like a good little slut, would you?”

With a loud cry of relief, she came over your fingers, her whole body shaking as she world went black temporarily, feeling euphoria engulf her body entirely, her toes curling, hips raising off the sheets, her hands almost ripping the fabric as her entire body convulsed, feeling her cum gushing onto your fingers which hadn’t stilled inside her, as if you were milking her dry.

Once she’d come down from her high, you pulled your fingers out, and tapped her lips with your other hand, silently asking to open them. She did just that, and you slid your fingers past her full lips and onto her tongue.

“Clean them off, darling,” you commanded, watching with satisfaction as she trembled, coming down from her high.

Feeling her lick and suck your fingers clean made your already thrumming body twinge sharply at the feeling, desire taking over as you processed her laying naked and spent before you.

You took in the sight of her round face, plump lips, the soft curve of her jawline, the pale skin of her neck littered with love marks. You let your eyes travel further down, to her full, now-heaving breasts, the nipples still hard, her soft stomach with the slightest bit of skin rounding it at the bottom just above her pussy, nestled between her thick, creamy thighs.

Saints, she was so damn perfect it hurt.

“Such a pretty girl…” you smiled, using your tongue to clean her up after moving your fingers out of her mouth.

She blushed at the complement, and giggled softly at how gently you were cleaning her up.

Nina sat up with great difficulty, and beckoned you up to her. You settled your body between her legs, minding her sensitive clit as you did.

“My turn,” she whispered, kissing you roughly, smiling against your lips at your whimper of surprise.

She continued kissing you, your hands resting on her cheeks as she deepened the kiss, savouring every single moan and whimper you let past your lips between kisses.

She unbuttoned your shirt completely, pushing it off your shoulders, as you moved back and took your pants off clumsily. Nina nearly drooled at the sight of your body, pulling you back in for another kiss.

“Saints…” you whimpered as she pulled you onto her lap, holding you up with her hands on your back, as she kissed your neck.

Her lips trailed down your sensitive skin, littering open-mouthed kisses down your neck hungrily. Your head tilted back and you closed your eyes, whimpering softly.

She whispered adoring words as she continued scattering love marks on your skin, pausing only to undo your bra and throw it aside. You couldn’t help but blush a bright red, as she slowly lowered you back down onto the bed, the way you had only moments ago.

“Saints, you’re so pretty…” she whispered, taking your nipple in her mouth, sucking it hungrily, pulling a loud moan from your lips effortlessly, causing your back to arch off the bed.

“N-Nina…” you moaned and whimpered for her. The way her lips felt on your skin was so familiar, and you felt butterflies in your stomach as she tenderly ran her hands up and down your body lovingly.

“That’s right darling, say my name just like that…” she whispered against your skin, kissing down your abdomen. Her hands were at your underwear and she looked up at you, “May I!”

“Y-yes please…” you breathed. Your whole body was warming up, something you were positive she was doing on purpose.

Your pussy ached for her touch, and you whined, “Nina, please don’t go so so-oh saints…” you breathed out your last exclamation as she giggled softly and attached her lips to your clit, sucking on it gently in a way she knew you loved.

Her hands wandered your body, and she slowly licked up and down your dripping slit, making ecstasy spread through your entire system, turning your blood to what felt like pure gold, and your skin to warm fire.

“You taste lovely, darling,” Nina chuckled softly, coming back up to kiss you again, her free hand linking with yours as she cupped your cheek tenderly. You blushed and kissed her deeply, mumbling adorations against her pillowy lips as your skin and hers rubbed together familiarly.

Nina let go of your face and snaked her hand down between your legs as she kissed you over and over, biting your lips gently and moaning as your tongue grazed hers.

She started rubbing your clit suddenly, and it caught you off guard, so your legs instantly snapped together, thighs trapping her fingers between them.

She chuckled softly against your lips, saying, “Darling, open those pretty legs for me, would you?”

You whimpered and did just that, relishing the feeling which spiral led up from your clit, which engulfed your senses the same way her perfume had done mere moments ago.

“Such a good girl,” she giggled, her beautiful green eyes crinkling as she smiled lovingly at your squirming figure. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, as you gazed back at her with just as much reverence as a disciple did their goddess. Your lips were swollen from kissing, your mouth hanging slightly open as you craved her touch elsewhere.

You pulled her down to kiss her again as she dipped two fingers into your slowly, her rhythm staring uniform as she kissed you everywhere possible, while you fell apart under her touch.

Saints, her fingers felt so good, stretching you out just a little, but feeling comfortable inside you all the same. You begged her to go faster, free hand fisting in her hair as she fucked you hard.

“N-Nina…” you whimpered as you felt your stomach grow a knot within it, and Nina additionally felt your walls contract over her fingers.

“You’re gonna cum, are you, darling?” She asked, her hand in yours. At a loss for simple words, you nodded, making her lean forward and whisper in your ear, “Then cum for me, my love.”

Her voice, her soft, gentle but deep voice in your ear was more than enough to send you over the edge, in addition to her fingers inside you.

“Oh, S-Saints…” you cried out, your body convulsing and legs quaking as you came hard over her fingers, which had stilled inside you as she kissed you gently and lovingly.

Once you came down from your high, she licked her fingers clean before saying, “Let’s go take a bath, alright?”

You were breathing heavily, drunk on the feeling of her fingers and of her lips on your skin, and shook your head saying, “I just want to cuddle…”

She laughed and stood with some difficulty, given that you were far from gentle with her in the beginning, replying, “Dear, you’re covered in sweat and I don’t think it’s very good for your personal health to not clean up after sex.”

“Fine,” you groaned, sliding out of bed on equally wobbly legs. “But now I feel bad!”

She chuckled as you grabbed some clothes for the two of you, and asked, “And why is that?”

“My love, I was relentless with you, and you were so sweet and gentle and loving with me!” You whined, following her to the bathroom as she filled the bathtub with warm water for you both to soak in.

She kissed your cheek as you helped her into the tub, following close behind. “That was because I wasn’t exactly cooperative, darling.”

“…I’m sorry though,” you laughed, leaning between her legs to rest your back against her. The water felt nice on both of yours’ skin, and you felt your cheeks heat up as she held you close to her.

“Don’t be,” she grinned. “I love you so much, Y/n.”

Leaning up to kiss her gently, you replied, “I love you the most, Nina.”

So there you both sat together, soaking in the warm water, basking in each other’s presence.

And by the Saints, you loved it so much.

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Sounds fun! Let me try <3

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A Little Too Much

Summary: Zoya and you act as though you hate each other, but are secretly infatuated with one another. One day during sparing, Zoya goes a little too hard on you, which causes you to get injured. Later that evening, she comes to apologise, which ends with a small advance as well.

Zoya Nazyalensky x fem!Inferni!Reader

Warnings: Broken ribs, pain.

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Every day when the wake-up call would sound, a pit of annoyance would grow as soon as you’d leave your room. The reason was simple. That pit of annoyance grew and grew in you only because of one person: Zoya Nazyalensky. You’d never admit it aloud, but yes, you did like her, just a bit. You hated how cocky she was, how she always made sure to pass a snide comment every time you opened your mouth.

But you loved the way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth when she’d concentrate, how she always, always smelt like wildflowers even after a rigorous sparring session.

The same went for Zoya. She stayed just down the hall from you, and she could sense your presence, which always soured her mood in the mornings. Saints, she hated you so much. But, inconveniently, she also had the biggest crush on you as well. She hated your ability to get on her nerves, how you always managed to irritate her with the slightest passing remark.

But she loved how you were always full of energy, how you’d scrunch up your nose every time you’d use your power excessively, how your eyes squinted to slits when you laughed.

That day, both of you had relentlessly (and unwisely) annoyed each other.

Every time she walked past, you would pull her hair gently, giggling like a child as she’d glare at you in annoyance, then hit you on the shoulder.

Every time you opened your mouth to say something, she would mock you with a childish ‘nyeh, nyeh, nyeh’ and would make a face when you’d glare in her direction.

“Saints, you both,” Genya chuckled as you passed a comment on Zoya’s skills in the bedroom during lunch. “Go a little easy, will you?”

“Never,” you grinned with an evil glint in your eye.

“She was born to irritate the life out of me,” Zoya rolled her eyes. “I mean, she has a singular brain cell, what else would she use it for if not for studies?”

“Says the one with negative zero brain cells,” you shot back. “The number doesn’t even exist.”

“Every time you open your mouth, I lose brain cells,” she scoffed.

“So you admit you have negative zero brain cells?” You pointed at her with your spoon.

Zoya kicked you under the table, earning a gasp of offence from your end.

“First of all, ow,” you glared. “Second, I win at that, because you didn’t retort at all. Negative zero brain cells it is.”

“Just wait till we have sparring today,” she grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Genya, she’s threatening me!” You complained to your best friend.

Genya pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing in annoyance. “For the last time, y/n, I am not involving myself in this!”

“But-“ you began, but she cut you off.

“No,” she scowled. “One meal is all I ask of you, both of you. Just shut up for Saint’s sake!”

You both grumbled and glared at each other, but nevertheless stayed silent and finished eating.

—Time Skip—

Botkin stood in the centre of the ring, hands behind his back as he looked at you and Zoya. “I want a nice, clean fight,” he instructed, looking pointedly at Zoya. “And the moment I whistle, you will stop, understood?”

“Yes,” you both nodded.

“Positions!” He called out, stepping out of the circle. He waited till you both had taken your stances and bellowed, Fight!”

You anticipated every move Zoya made. Every punch, every kick, it was all repetitive. Duck, right, left, side-step. Over and over again.

“Pity you never changed your strategy, darling,” you sniggered at her as you caught her wrist in your hand, using her momentum to flip her over your shoulder and slam her against the ground, your knee against her chest.

She looked at you with rage in her eyes. She couldn’t deny that you putting her on her back was the hottest thing she’d ever encountered, but nevertheless it annoyed her.

Botkin hadn’t whistled yet, so she used her arm to push you off her, and stood back up. Her hair was dusty with mud, as slightly tangled too. But seeing you smirk at her cockily made her irritated to no end.

She threw another punch at you, but swift as a whip you sidestepped and pulled her back into a headlock. She struggled and elbowed you in the ribs hard, making you wince slightly.

“Alright,” you panted, stepping back as she reset her stance. Taking off your kefta, you passed it to Nadia Zhabin, who stood and shamelessly let her eyes run over your figure.

Zoya gritted her teeth and took her kefta off as well, throwing it at one of the boys watching. With a growl of anger she charged at you, trying to land punches on you. She clocked you once on the jaw, but you repaid the favour by ducking low and swiping her feet out from under her with your own leg, standing up as she lay groaning on her back from the impact.

“Saints, Zoya,” you dusted off your hands. “And here I thought you were Botkin’s best student.”

A collective ‘ooh’ rippled through the crowd as Zoya stood up. This time, she aimed a kick at you, where you caught her leg in your arm and pulled sharply, making her slip and fall again into the mud.

Angrily, she mustered up all her strength and punched you soundly in the ribs with a sickening ‘crack’. Coughing, you doubled over in pain, clutching your side as Botkin whistled and rushed over to you.

“Saints, that hurt!” You groaned, unable to get up. You lifted up your shirt to check the damage, unable to breathe properly as a sharp stab of agony ran through you again. Sure enough, where Zoya had hit you, a deep red mark had appeared and it was starting to swell.

“Get her to the infirmary, Zhabin,” said Botkin, marching over to Zoya to give her the scolding of a lifetime.

Nada helped you up, apologising when you winced in pain.

“You’d think the daughter of an underground ring fighter could be able to see that coming,” you chuckled slightly as you both walked carefully to the infirmary.

“That was uncalled for,” Nadia said, worriedly. "How can you crack jokes at a time like this?"

You gestured to your wound with a grimace of pain. "This? It's nothing. Healer'll get me fixed in no time."

Meanwhile, Genya was yelling at Zoya with enough anger to nearly reduce her to tears. And that was very rare. She knew Botkin would just sternly reprimand her, but hearing Genya yelling at her as if Zoya kicked an injured puppy was a tad bit much.

"What were you thinking?!" Her friend threw her hands up in exasperation. "Do you have any idea what happens when people break their ribs?! They can get a punctured lung, which is highly fatal!"

"I know, but she was being so annoying!" Zoya countered lamely.

"That doesn't mean you break her ribs!"

"They were cracked!"

"She wasn't even playing offensively! She was blocking everything you threw at her, and made you fall down gently with you own body weight!"

"She was trash-talking me!"

"DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE?!" Genya caught Zoya by the shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth rattled. "Because of you and your inability to have a thick skin towards trash-talking, Y/n is in the infirmary barely able to breathe without it hurting like she's having a period cramp in her damned lungs." She let go of her and stepped back. "Now, after dinner, I want you to go to her and apologise."

"Fine," Zoya grumbled.

Genya's eyes narrowed as she jabbed a finger into her friend's chest. "Like you mean it," moving towards the door, she straightened her kefta and said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to our broken little friend in the infirmary."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving Zoya with a regretful pit in her stomach.

--Time Skip--

You pulled off your shirt with a wince that evening. Even though Genya had healed your ribs well, they still hurt like a bitch. The swelling had gone, but since the bone was still fragile, she and the nurse had bothtold you not to exert yourself too much. Which meant no sparring, summoning to be kept to a minimum, and definitely no horse-riding for a while.

A knock at your door made you hastily pull a sweater over your bare body, the yarn tickling your skin. "Coming!" You called out, as you stumbled to the door.

You opened it to see Zoya, a picture of what shockingly looked like genuine regret and sadness.

You furrowed your brows, confused. "Um...i don't know if it's the painkillers making me hallucinate, but are you here to...apologise?"

"Y/n, I'm really sorry for breaking your ribs," she said, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I got too rough and carried away, I'm really sorry, please forgive me."

You sighed and motioned with your head for her to come in, which she did reluctantly. The moment you closed the door, you made a move to smack her on the head like you always did when she was around. As usual, she stepped sideways out of your reach and held your wrist in her hand with a raised brow.

"What the hell?" She asked, confused. "I came here and sacrificed my dignity to apologise to you, and you still try to hit me?"

"Sorry," you shrugged with a sheepish smile on your face. "I had to check if you were an impostor."

Zoya inhaled deeply and held out her hands towards you as if she was going to strangle you, but put them down hastily, rearranging her features into their previous look of remorse.

"So, do you accept my apology?" She asked.

You laughed, making her stomach flutter a little bit. "Yes, you dork, I accept you apology," you opened your arms to ask for a hug, but she grimaced, which made you adjust your hands into a gesture of surrender. "Alright, not wanting to hug, that's also a good sign you're not an impostor."

"Dumbass," Zoya chuckled. Shyly, she moved closer to you and took your hand in hers, bowing formally and brushing her lips over your knuckles. Rising to meet your eyes with hers, she smirked at the blush on your cheeks as she said, "I'll take my leave now."

"I-I-" you stammered, barely able to form a coherent sentence as you brought your hand up to your chest in disbelief, your other hand atop it as you stared at her.

She winked and smiled, turning around and walking towards the door. Your brain kicked into action, and you strode over to her hurriedly, turning her around to press her against the wood of the door gently, your cheeks still burning with red.

She gazed at you, grinning cockily as your hands went to her waist, your knuckles still pulsing from the brush of her lips on them. "Couldn't help yourself, could you?" She asked, using every ounce of her willpower not to look at your lips.

"Must we beat about the bush this way?" You asked with a strained smile. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to kiss her, but you were trying to play it cool.

She looped her arms around your neck, her thoughts going haywire while she maintained her flirtatious demeanor. "Admit you like me, and we can stop beating about the bush."

"That's all it takes to get you to kiss me?" You smirked, trying (and failing) to sound like you were flirting. Your voice, however, obeyed the sentiment and pitched lower, making a shiver slither down her spine.

"In case you didn't notice, you oblivious dimwit," she laughed softly. "I like you too."

"OH," You said a little too loudly. Seeing her start in surprise, you cleared your throat and repeated in a more civilised volume, "Oh, is it? I didn't notice over the fuck-me eyes you were shooting me when I put you on your back more than once today."

Zoya's heart rate quickened. Suddenly, the impulse overpowered her strategy, and she grabbed your face in her hands to pull you close for a kiss. It was the barest brush of her lips against yours, just a fraction of a second, but she pulled away, regretting it. What if you were joking? Would this jeapordize the friendship/frenemy thing you had going on?

"Jeez, Zoya," you giggled, flustered. "I'd have told you we can take it slow, and save the first kiss until after I take you on three dates at max, but I guess I'm just that attractive."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I-" she began, but you pressed your lips to hers again to shut her up. Butterflies erupted in her stomach again as a shiver went down her spine, while she kissed you back on your damned soft lips.

"Relax," you panted as you both pulled away. "I've wanted to do that for a while."

She grinned and rested her forehead against yours. "So have I."

Summary: All your life you have felt powerless against Aleksander. But when he takes things too far, you finally find your voice to stand up to him. Genya attempts to belittle herself, but you don't let her.

Genya Safin x fem!morozov!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Crying, fighting, mentions of sexual abuse, toxic parent.

Note: You're adopted, so it doesn't get weird, I swear. And I don’t remember the catacombs scene word for word, so bear with me :’) also, y/n has a certain amount of selective mutism.

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Ever since you were a child, you had been a very quiet, gentle, and agreeable person. So quiet that you could slip out of a room of three people, unnoticed. So agreeable that you would commit a crime for anyone who you held close to your heart. So gentle that you couldn't bear to even think of raising your voice at anyone who made you feel bad.

Aleksander, your father, took these abilities for granted the very moment he realised how you could benefit him.

He kept you like a secret weapon, unleashing you carefully, using your abilities to his advantage. He gifted you to the Queen as her aide and deputy lady-in-waiting. He was twisted enough to use you as bait for the King, allowing him to do as he pleased with you as long as it meant Aleksander would remain General.

You couldn't say no as his rotten lips went over your skin, you couldn't push him away, because fear for yourself froze you in place, and fear of angering your father made all reason simply vanish from your mind.

Naturally, when the King tired of you, your convoluted father gave him Genya.

Sweet Genya who talked to you every day after you both helped the Queen prepare for her evenings. Kind Genya who always made sure you weren't left alone at mealtimes or during lessons. Beautiful Genya who had all the boys after her, because of her wavy auburn hair and unique amber eyes.

You were furious to find out what he had done. Till date you can remember the white-hot fury that had coursed through your veins as Genya arrived sobbing at your room the first night the King had forced himself on her. The way your skin prickled, your body threatening to unleash unforgiving darkness upon the land as you saw the blood on her thighs and clothes.

However, you still felt guilty about how you couldn't confront Aleksander about it. Still felt angry at yourself for being powerless under his heavy, dark-eyed gaze. Still felt so hopeless because the words died in your throat that day before they could escape your lips.

"What is it now, Y/n?" He had asked as you approached him timidly the next morning.

"Father, I heard that Genya had gone to the King's rooms last night," you had said, trying not to mumble.

"Yes," he had hummed, "She is my spy, Y/n. That doesn't concern you. Your time to serve as a spy for me has passed." With a wave of his hand, he had then dismissed you from the room.

You had wanted to tear out your father's eyes, wanted to scream how could you do this to her, to me? But you couldn't.

So here you were, outside your father's chambers while he punished Genya for deserting him on the other side of the door. Tears ran down your cheeks like rivers from your eyes, as you pounded on the door with your fists, your normally quiet voice raised to a shrill shout, calling out for your father to stop, calling out to Genya to see if she was okay.

He pulled the door open sharply and caught you around the collar, dragging you inside the room.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

Genya was weeping with her head buried in her hands, kneeling on the floor, quaking with fear. Black blood seeped from between her fingers as her shaky hands tried tailoring her wounds shut. You made a move to go to her, to put your arms around her and comfort her, but Aleksander held you back.

"Keep her in the cell," he said scathingly. "Tomorrow everyone will see her face. Everyone will be reminded of the consequences if they dare to try and double-cross me."

"No!" Genya screamed. It broke your heart.

You struggled against your father's iron grip weakly. "Father, no, please don't do this, I'm begging you!"

"Silence," he said sternly, as if you were just some otkazat'sya who he couldn't bother listening to, and you did just that.

Another win for him. Typical Y/n.

"Come," he said, beckoning you to where you knew he was keeping your grandmother.

Baghra. You adored her from the moment you had met her all those years ago. She didn't show it much, but you knew she adored you back. A rare phenomenon in her case. Aleksander had imprisoned her, just to work on another amplifier so he could defeat Alina.

"Sit down," your father ordered the moment you entered the room.

"Baghra," you whispered, trying to get her to look at you. "Grandmother."

She did look at you, finally, and gave a small nod of understanding towards you.

The guards had set up a second cage beside hers, and in that, they stuffed Genya. You made a noise of protest, but it was too soft for them to hear. You made eye contact with her and your e/c irises said it all.

I'm sorry.

You hoped she wouldn't look at you with loathing, hoped she didn't hate you now. Hoped that she knew how much you loved her, and that you would try your hardest to be heard, try to be a crack of thunder in a storm instead of just a gentle breeze on an autumn evening.

She looked at you like she always had, with warmth and adoration. Her blinded eye, too, somehow held that expression. It vanished, however, the moment the Darkling looked at her.

"Put out your foot, Y/n," your father ordered. You frowned and did just that, but you didn't see the mallet coming.

Aleksander nodded at the nearby guard, who took the mallet and swung it down onto your shin, shattering the bone with a sickening 'crunch'. You felt red-hot pain sear through your body, and cried out, clutching your leg gingerly.

"Why would you do that?" You screamed, shocking everyone in the room. No one had ever heard Y/n Morozova ever raise her voice. Hell, some of them thought you were mute. "I didn't do anything!"

Aleksander gestured at a Heartrender standing at the door, ordering him to extract some of the bone shards from underneath your skin.

"Hold her down," he ordered the guards. You thrashed about as much as your pain-riddled body would allow, sobbing uncontrollably. Both with pain and betrayal.

"Aleksander, stop this madness!" Baghra exclaimed as the Heatrender readied himself to remove the shards from your leg. "She's just a child!"

"A girl of nineteen is hardly a child," said the man with as much emotion as a teabag, speaking over your cries and screams of pain, as well as Genya's pleading voice. "Her bones are as valuable as yours, since she has some Morozova blood within her, and she is thus an amplifier."

"Do I repair the rest of her leg, General Kirigan?" Asked the second Grisha who had come in with the Heartrender.

Dismissively, Aleksander nodded, and the Healer set to work. However, with the missing chunks of bone, he said, "I'm afraid she will need a cane for the time being. If the cast doesn't work and she feels pain after the next one week, it means she'll have to use the cane for the rest of her life."

"No matter," shrugged your father.

How could he?

You waited till the Healer had fixed you up as best as he could, trying your best to ignore the pain which was still very sharp in your leg.

"What in the name of the Saints do you mean 'no matter', Father?" You scowled. "Does the fact that I'm a cripple now mean nothing to you?"

"Broken things are more fragile even if you fix them," said Baghra. "You know this, Aleksander."

"Y/n," Aleksander's voice was gentle and kind. He always did this. One moment he was the best father in the world, all kind words and sweet smiles, and the next, he was a monster in a man's body, watching as a stranger shattered his daughter's legs. "Think of how powerful we would be-"

"No," you said softly.

His gaze hardened. "No?"

You shook your head, "I'm done with your games, Father. This," you nodded at your leg, "This was the last straw. I cannot walk properly anymore. You mutilated the girl I love, and put my grandmother through things far too violent to recount. I loved you, she loved you, and Genya trusted you."

He rolled his eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

You knew you couldn't attack him. It would risk unleashing the nichevoya. So you used your words instead.

"Are you so oblivious?" You whispered. "All my life I have agreed with you, done as you asked. I let a man violate me in unspeakable ways, just because I did as you asked. You have used me, you have used my Genya, and you have used Baghra. You are a disgusting man, Aleksander Morozova. A disgusting man, son, father, and general.

Did you feel nothing when I came to you with blood on my nightgown, crying about the King? Did you feel nothing, when I said I didn't want Genya playing your spy?" Your eyes brimmed with tears. "Did you feel nothing when that guard smashed my leg and broke it like a stick?"

"Sacrifices for power," he sighed. "You are too young to understand."

"Age and eternity have made you emotionless," you shook your head. "They have stripped you of your ability to love, to cherish, to feel. You sacrifice to fill that void, you sacrifice because you know that alone, with your sins, you are not enough."

You felt fear seize your body when he caught you by the collar again and threw you nearly clean across the room.

"Learn your place, girl," he seethed. "I am your father. Never speak to me that way again."

You struggled to get to your feet, leaning against the nearby wall. Anger kept within for too long bubbled up within you, heating up into white-hot fury.

"My place, Father, isn't something you can dictate. This isn't Fjerda, this isn't the medieval times. I am a woman, a girl, a daughter. I have stayed silent for too long, letting you do with me, with others, as you please," you clenched your fists, darkness cloaking the room threateningly. "So, Father, do you ever want to say you're sorry? Will you try to make amends? Try to be a better person?"

"Quite the speech," he raised a brow. "But I am powerful, and no one will stop me from getting my Summoner. Especially not you."

He took you by the arm firmly and led you out, not caring that you were limping and hopping terribly. Genya cried out for you, begging him to be gentle, but with no avail.

"Stay in your room," he seethed, shoving you inside your room none too gently. "I have business to attend to."

You waited till he closed the door, and collapsed on your bed, screaming bloody murder into the pillow as you cried.

--Time Skip--

Night had fallen, and till then only one guard had knocked on your door to give you food.

"Cripple," he spat in Ravkan, making you nearly use the Cut on him in anger.

Your father hadn't returned yet from his twisted expedition, and you decided it was high time you broke your best friend and grandmother out of jail.

You knew that the guards deserted your corridor at exactly nine-thirty for patrol rounds. Quietly, or at least as quietly as you possibly could be, you snuck down the corridor to the room where you knew they were.

You slipped inside the room, and knelt in front of Genya's cage, breaking the lock with all your strength. It was rusty from lack of use, and came apart with the barest of snaps.

She avoided your gaze and covered her face with a hand, shrinking away from your touch. She didn't want you to see her this way. You found it odd, but shrugged it off. Naturally she wouldn't want to see you. You were the Darkling's daughter. She had no business looking at you the same.

"Please, get yourself to safety," you said quietly, moving away from her.

You felt hurt that she seemed to think you were like your father, that she seemed to fear you just as she feared him. You turned to Baghra's cage and broke the lock as well, feeling a little twinge of happiness on seeing her smile slightly.

You knelt in front of her like a knight would kneel before his King, ignoring the pain in your leg, and said, "I'm sorry for how my father has treated you. I'm willing to pay for his sins, I swear on it."

Baghra touched your shoulders gently, prompting you to rise. "Don't take accountability for Aleksander's sins, child. This was his choice, and he must pay for it. You are not defined by his actions, because you have proved time and again that you have tried your best to rebel against him."

You scoffed a laugh, helping her up. "I can hardly call cowering and giving unheard suggestions 'rebellion'."

"You'll understand what I mean with time, my dear," smiled the woman. She looked at Genya, who had laid waste to the table, save the bottle of amplifier which she now held in her hand.

You three escaped just barely, because your limp slowed them down. You apologised profusely along the way, and when they paused for a rest, you scoured for a branch which could double as a cane for you temporarily. When you did, walking became a thousand times easier. The entire journey, Genya didn't speak to you or look at you. Whenever you moved close to her, she'd scurry farther down the path, muttering to herself.

'I'm not like him,' you wanted to say. 'I'm in love with you, Genya, I'd never do anything to hurt you.'

But of course, the words didn't come.

Finally, you three came upon the hideout where everyone was. Genya was tackled in a hug by Alina, while you hung back, standing behind Baghra timidly. You knew you wouldn't be welcome there.

"Baghra," Alina said with relief, moving over to her. However, the second she did, the woman moved forwards to reveal your quietly standing figure.

Disgust painted everyone's faces and you saw people draw weapons, or, in the case of the Grisha, put their hands up defensively.

You didn't say anything.

Alina's piercing gaze was enough to make you want to shrink into the walls, and you nearly cowered with fright when she readied herself to attack.

"Alina," you were shocked as Genya spoke up. "She's harmless, don't worry."

"She's about as harmless as a viper," scowled the girl.

“Alina, trust me, she’s not like him,” said the redhead. “She’s the opposite.”

You put your hands up in surrender and shook your head, "I-I'm nothing like my father, I swear."

"I vouch for that," Baghra said with a nod.

"Fine," sighed Alina. She nodded at your leg, "How'd that happen?"

You cleared your throat and willed yourself to speak louder. "My father. He smashed my bone with a mallet to use as an amplifier."

"Saints," she scoffed, "That man is a psychopath. Tamar," she looked at the Heartrender, "Please see to it that she has a proper cane, and do help ease the pain a bit."

"T-thank you," you stammered, nervous of the girl who's eyes were no more scathingly trained on you. They were soft with concern, as she smiled slightly and nodded.

"Come on then," the Shu girl grinned, taking you by the arm gently. "Let's get you patched up better."

You nodded and followed her out, while Genya went to tend to Adrik.

Twenty minutes of excruciating pain later, your leg was mostly healed, but given the way it had been broken, they said there was close to no chance for your complete recovery.

A Fabrikator named Viktor fashioned a cane for you from the branch you were using. It was jet black, of course, with an intricate design of roses etched into the wood from the handle till the bottom which had a cap of silver on it.

You thanked him and Tamar smiled at you.

“Truly, you are unlike your father,” she said.

You blushed shyly and softly replied, “I’ve never found cruelty to be my area of expertise.”

Tamar patted your arm and helped you up, making sure you were putting your weight on the cane and not your leg.

You went to check on Genya, who, upon seeing you, fled from where she was sitting in front of Adrik, helping heal his hand.

“G-Genya?” You called out after her, your voice barely raised at all as you limped after her with as much speed as your leg would allow. “Please wait a moment, please.”

You both stopped dead in your tracks, when you ran into the Queen.

“You!” She gasped. “Guards! Guards!” She cried out, looking around frantically for them, her pale hair fluttering around her face.

She caught Genya by the wrist and seethed, “You both will pay for what you did! You monsters!”

“Please-please leave her be,” you pleaded, limping closer to the Queen, resisting the urge to beat her senseless with your new cane.

“Well,” she glared at Genya, “At least now you look like what you truly are,” she turned to you, “And you deserve to be crippled, you repulsive girl.”

“I-“ you faltered. You deserved it, didn’t you? You tried not to cry, as you gathered your thoughts, saying, “Please let her go,”

Genya yanked her arm out of the Queen’s grip, having had enough.

“Ask me how I did it,” she said, with venom in her voice. “How we did it.”

Your heart leapt. She mentioned you in passing, that was good. Perhaps she didn’t hate you after all.

“What?” The woman was baffled.

“Ask. Me.” Genya said forcefully. The queen made a nod as if to ask, and the redhead continued, “Y/n made the poison. She wanted her revenge anyway. So, I put it on my body, for weeks. So that every time he touched me, every time,” her voice lowered to a hesitant whisper, “he kissed me, he would take a little bit into himself.”

“All he had to do was stop coming to her bed,” you softly added in.

Seething, the woman replied, “He was your King,”

“He brought it on himself,” Genya spat.

“He took advantage of innocent girls, girls who couldn’t fight back, because he was our King,” you limped forward to stand beside Genya, mustering up courage to look the Queen in the eye. “It was because he was our King, we were terrified to speak. Because no one would’ve believed us. And even if they did, they couldn’t do anything about it. So do you blame us, your Highness, can you blame us, for taking matters into our own hands?”

“Oh? The Darkling’s mute little puppet girl speaks,” scoffed the queen, making you shrink back with shame. That tone stung you hard. Where they never took you seriously, where people only saw you as a pushover who had no voice. “You both are monsters, murderers.”

“Madraya,” Nikolai’s smooth voice was a saving grace in this fight.

“Nikolai! You heard them, arrest these murderers!” She said, looking at her son.

He looked horrified. “No,” he shook his head. “Not after what I heard.” He looked at her with disbelief on his features. “Both of them were under your protection.”

“They are servants,” she scoffed in disgust. “And the cripple is a puppet for the enemy!”

“And you, the Mother of Ravka,” he said. “Your subjects were to be like your children. All of them,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and brought you forward. Your eyes stayed riveted on the ground. “And Y/n? Just by being here, she has shown that she is no puppet for the Darkling.”

The Queen huffed and flounced off, skirts billowing around her as she did.

“Thank you,” you nodded and moved back, when Genya turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” said Nikolai.

“It’s not your fault,” said Genya, as she walked away.

You limped after her, calling out her name in vain. However, you cornered her at last in her rooms.

“Saints,” you panted, your leg aching horribly. You leaned your cane against a wall and tried catching your breath. “Saints, that hurts.”

“Y/n, please leave,” she said, packing up a bag for herself.

“No!” You said, annoyed. She looked at you at last. “No, Genya, I won’t leave.”

"Why not?" She scoffed. "Look at me, Y/n."

"I always am," you said. "I am always looking at you, Genya."

"Are you, now?" She laughed drily. "Honestly, Y/n, you don't have to pity me, alright? We aren't on the same boat, if that's waht your thinking."

"I have always thought we were oceans apart, Genya. With you all confidence and kindness, while I shrank away from the slightest word spoken to me," you said, your e/c eyes shining in the dim light, making it look like they had stars in them. "But that didn't stop me from loving you."

She looked at you incredulously, "Loving me?"

"Yes," you smiled, limping over to her hesitantly. "Since the day we met, I never stopped loving you. And this day is no diffferent. Scars or no scars, you, Genya Safin, are stronger than Grisha steel, and more beautiful than anyone I have ever encountered. You are a beautiful girl in a broken world, and-and if anything, your scars make you more beautiful in my eyes. It would be my honour to say that I am yours, Genya."

She stepped closer to you, taking your hands in hers. "Can you bear waking up to a scarred old face beside yours every morning?"

"It isn't something to bear, because burdens and problems are what we bear. This is no problem. It is a trophy, a symbol of your victory and strength, my Genya," you smiled. "I understand if you wouldn't want me, though."

"Why wouldn't I want you?" She asked. You were too oblivious, in her opinion. Had you forgotten the nights you both slept together, wrapped up in each other's embrace? The times she'd kiss your forehead to make you feel better? The times she hadn't denied it when people asked her if you and her were a thing?

"I am a cripple now, Genya," you accepted it with a shake of your head. "You protect and care enough for people. I don't need you doing that for me, because it would just add on to your own personal burdens.”

Genya came closer to you, taking your hands in hers. Her seeing eye was a deep gold in the dim light—a shard of the setting sun sparkling with love.

“Have you never noticed that I am in love with you?” she asked, making your heart leap. “Do you know how many times I’ve kissed your forehead, wishing it was your lips? Wishing that we could embrace with just the sheets between our bodies?”

“Um…” you felt yourself lean on her palms slightly. “Sorry,” you nodded at her hands clasping yours a little tighter now, with the weight on them. “But why did you run from me?”

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled sadly. “I ran because I thought that you would find me ruined now, with this.” She touched her fingers gingerly to her scars.

“Never,” you shook your head, shifting your weight to put more on your good leg, so you could hold her face in your hands. “My Genya, you should never think you aren’t the most gorgeous woman on the face of this planet, because Saints alive, I have never seen a woman so kind, loving, and caring as you. It shows on your face, and it only makes you more breathtaking.”

In the dim light, you saw her blush, just the barest dust of pink under her skin.

“That’s probably the most you’ve spoken in your whole life,” chuckled the redhead, leaning into your touch. It startled you, and in turn, made you blush a rather unsubtle red.

“I-um,” you tried pushing out the words which wanted to leave your lips so desperately, but all you could do as she stepped closer to you was exhale softly, “Genya…”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name that way,” she smiled, looking up at you slightly as her hands rested on your waist. Her gaze skirted down to your lips and to your eyes as she asked, “May I?”

Your heart leapt, the words struggled again. You nodded wordlessly and she tilted her head up, pressing her slightly dry yet soft lips on yours. The words came again as you both stood there in the dingy underground room, just kissing.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thumbs stroking her cheeks as you prayed to all the Saints that your palms weren’t sweating. You wanted this moment to last, this first kiss to extend into forever. The world faded around you, the panic of your father’s attack, the fear you felt in front of the Queen, all forgotten as you focused on Genya.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words didn’t come, they failed you again. But you didn’t mind this time.

You smiled against her lips, and kept your e/c eyes riveted on her as she pulled away, her face finally cracking into a large, bubbly grin.

You let your hands fall from her face and held her hands in yours, trying not to giggle.

“Did we just do that?” She asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, folding your lips into your mouth as a loud, childlike giggle threatened to escape your lips.

She leaned up to kiss your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Perhaps we could work on your voice sometime?”

“Um,” you nodded your head and asked, “Would-would you help me?”

“Of course, Y/n,” she smiled.

“I-I’ll speak a hundred words a minute for-for you,” you said, out of breath suddenly. “It will just take some time…”

“We have all the time in the world, my love,” she brushed her thumb gently over your bottom lip, causing a shudder to go down your spine.

You took her hand and kissed it gently, before pressing another kiss to her cheek where her longer scar was.

“All the time in the world,” you repeated with a smile.

She nodded and took your hand, holding it while you grabbed your cane and the both of you walked out of the room, back to where the others were.

As the torchlight cast long shadows on the wall, and you sat beside her silently while the others gave strategies on their next move.

Ever so often you would glance at Genya, who wore a thoughtful look on her face. The dim torchlight fell from behind her, highlighting her profile in gold.

‘Why have you condemned her to suffer such hardships?’ You silently asked the Saints. ‘Why do you make every effort to make her suffer?’

The answer was a simple one, which you could practically hear those damned Saints reply.

Because fate isn’t kind to those who have beauty like hers.

Because she is a beautiful girl in a broken world.

———————————————————————

Summary: With exams coming up, you withdraw from everyone, including your family, and it takes a toll on you. Zoya tries comforting you to the best of her capabilities, but after you keep pushing her away, she gets fed up and confronts you.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Breakdown, stress, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of an attempt at self harm.

First Part

Second Part

Third Part

Fourth Part

———————————————————————

Exam season. You dreaded it. Were you smart? Of course you were. Were you human? Unfortunately, yes. Naturally the stress of having to get good marks was pressurising you, and honestly, with the whole issue with Zoya, it was getting worse.

It had been two weeks since the party now. Since then, you had been cold and curt with Zoya, ignoring her unless she made one of her usual comments, or just to gloat about your marks at her.

“Hey,” Nina said softly that morning as she entered class. You had a huge headache and you were stupid enough to make the decision to ignore it and came to school. “How’re you feeling?”

“My head is killing me,” you groaned. “I feel like I have a hangover.”

“Morning, Brekker,” Zoya said, smacking your head gently with her book as usual. “Had too much to drink last night? You look awful.”

“I know I still look better than you, Nazyalensky,” you snapped. “Keep to yourself if you know what’s good for you.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, hurt pinging in her heart. Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you both had last spoken decently to each other. She kept trying to make it like before, but she couldn’t. All you did was snap at her rudely and then ignore her.

“Still crushing your heart?” Nina raised a brow. “And clearly crushing hers in the process?”

You scoffed, “She has no heart. Let it go.”

“Alright,” shrugged the girl. She handed you some headache pills and said, “Have these when you feel the headache coming in stronger, okay?”

You nodded, distracted. You were already calculating what all you were supposed to do that day after your tutoring session with Zoya. Cover the last history chapter, do a bit of math, redraw your maps for practice and so much more.

“Everyone,” the teacher called for your attention, “I hope you have been working hard on your project work, because it’s due in two days, so just a heads-up.”

“Is your mediocre work ready, Nazyalensky?” You asked, looking at her. “I need to add it to my far better work and edit it more, obviously.”

“Oh please,” Zoya scoffed. “Calling my work mediocre would make your work trash, Brekker.”

You shrugged, “My grades display otherwise.”

“Saints, something went seriously wrong between them,” Nikolai mumbled to Mal, who was sitting on the seat beside him. “I miss the playful banter.”

“Me too,” admitted the other boy. “I wish they’d just admit their feelings to each other, honestly.”

“Never gonna happen,” Alina turned around and said to them. “They’re both stubborn donkeys.”

—Time Skip—

“Y/n, come on, it’s time for dinner,” Nina said that evening as you sat at your tiny desk, studying hard. You had only just come home from your tutoring session with Zoya, tension-filled as usual.

“I’ll eat later,” you dismissed her with a wave of your hand.

She sighed. You had been doing this for days now. They all would eat together, while you slaved away at your desk without a break. At times one of them would go to the living room at two a.m to see you with a lamp on the dining table, your books strewn about there while you memorised something quietly. You hadn’t spent more than twenty minutes that week with them, and it was beginning to worry them all.

You got up and moved your things out of the room when Nina and Inej went to bed after having studied for a little while, and sat down at the dining table with a cup of coffee Mrs Romanov handed to you.

You were stressed. Far too stressed. In the night time you were holed up at your desk, in the day you were tired and irritable, your body taut with effort and exertion.

Sometimes when you couldn’t remember something, you would nearly break down into tears. You had to make sure you got top marks. Your reputation was at stake. You thought that if you didn’t, the others would think you were a failure and that your scholarship was a waste.

Zoya noticed everything. She noticed how you didn’t come to lunch in the cafeteria, how you were always taking a nap in you spare time between lessons, how your beautiful eyes now had bags under them, and how you were getting progressively more irritable in your tutoring sessions.

One day, everyone had a free period because the teachers were all called to the principal’s office for an urgent staff meeting. While everyone milled about and chatted with their friends, played small games with each other, and just had fun, you were quietly reading your textbook, politely turning down any invitations given to you to join them all.

You were covering geography, and there was a part you were quizzing yourself with. Suddenly, your mind went blank and you couldn’t remember a single thing of what you had memorised.

Impossible. You had memorised nearly the whole book!

You started mumbling the start of the answer again and again, but the rest was just not coming to you. Panic seized your whole body. The exams were in five days, you could not blank out now!

You slipped out of the classroom, hopefully unnoticed and went to the bathroom to try to compose yourself. However, you weren’t as discreet as you thought you had been, because just as you left the classroom, Zoya noticed and followed soundlessly behind.

You reached the bathroom and splashed water on your face, but the voices which were already whispering in your head were louder now.

It was such an easy chapter, you don’t deserve to get the marks you have.

So pathetic, you will never be as good as Zoya or Inej, or anyone for that matter.

So far it’s been easy. You’re too dumb to do this.

You should’ve stayed in Kerch and let Pekka gut you clean like a fish.

You’re such a failure. Always have been.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your hand going into your pocket as the other gripped the basin tightly, while your breathing picked up. You felt for the small pocket knife you always carried, and finally extracted it from the fabric of your jacket.

“God, I’m a failure,” you sobbed softly, your legs feeling weak. You backed up against a wall and slid to the floor, your knees up against your chest as you dissolved into a panic attack slowly and painfully.

“Brekker, what in the name of the Saints are you-“ Zoya froze upon seeing your sobbing figure, and felt her heart stop in her chest as her eyes landed on the open pocketknife in your hand as well as your rolled up sleeve.

“Hey,” she said in a far gentler tone, trying to catch your attention as your chest heaved and your pale hands quaked. “Brekker, come on, look at me.”

“Z-Zoya?” Your eyes finally focused on her. “I can’t breathe, Saints I can’t breathe…”

“I know, I know,” she grabbed your hands in hers and gently rubbed her thumbs over the backs of them hesitantly. “Try breathing with me, come on.”

You nodded, the voices a little less loud in your ears now. She guided you through your panic attack, her voice slowly overpowering the ones in your head till they were once more just whispers.

Zoya’s heart was pounding in her chest. Sure, you were having a panic attack, but you said her name. You called her by her name for the first time. Not Nazyalensky. You called her Zoya.

“Feeling better?” She asked, her hands still in yours as she knelt in front of you. You didn’t reply and she frowned in concern, “Y-Y/n?”

You snapped out of your thoughts immediately, your heart fluttering again. No, you can’t. You crushed the feeling again, just how you had been doing these last few weeks.

“Did-did you just call me Y/n?” You whispered nonetheless, shocked.

“Um,” she panicked and shook her head, “I figured I’d grace you with that gift now that you addressed me by my first name.”

“We’re on a first name basis now?” You sniffled with a raised brow. Your walls went up around your heart again. You would not fall for her. You refused to.

“Seems like it?” She smiled, hoping things were back to normal.

“You wish, Nazyalensky,” you spat, standing up. “Leave me alone, thanks. And don’t breathe a word about this to anyone.”

She scowled, “You’re such an ungrateful asshole, Brekker. I helped you with that panic attack, and you have the gall to talk to me like I’ve violated you or something!”

“I didn’t need your help!” You exclaimed, fear gripping your heart in a chokehold.

I can’t let this happen. No, no, no.

“Really?” She scoffed. “You didn’t need my help? You were about to fucking cut yourself, and you’re telling me you didn’t need help?”

“Not from you,” you seethed.

“Fuck you, Brekker,” she scowled and opened the door to the bathroom.

“Get out of my face, Nazyalensky,” you replied.

That hurt. That one hurt her so badly, Zoya wanted to cry. She genuinely wanted to make sure you were okay, but all you did was push her away. All you did was act nasty towards her, and it was pissing her off.

“Watch me, Brekker,” she mumbled to herself. “I will find out what the hell is going on in that dumbass head of yours.”

She called Nina to her desk as she reached class and said softly, “Nina, could you please make sure Brekker’s okay? She’s been acting up lately.”

Nina sighed, “She’s not an easy person when she gets stressed. She’s been acting up with us as well. I think it’s the exams.”

“Maybe. Just…just take care of her, okay? I’m worried,” Zoya admitted. Seeing Nina’s knowing gaze she hastily added, “Because I need my opponent to be healthy for competition, obviously.”

“Whatever, Zoya,” laughed the girl as she walked away.

—Time Skip—

You sat silently with Zoya that evening in the library. It was completely deserted today, everyone went home early to study, clearly.

“Brekker,” she said, hitting you over the head with her pencil as you nearly dozed off again. “Focus.”

“I am focusing, Nazyalensky,” you snapped. “Saints, maybe if you didn’t drone on like a boring priest, I’m sure I could focus properly.”

“Well maybe if you stopped stressing out so much, maybe you might find my boring, priestlike droning useful,” she replied, her brow raised.

Honestly, you were really so trying sometimes. Her patience was wearing thin.

“Saints, why did Reznik have to shove us together?” You grumbled under your breath, but she heard it in the silence of the library.

She’d had enough now.

“Alright, that’s it,” she threw down her pencil onto her book and glared at you. “It has been two weeks since the…incident, and all you have been towards me is vile, hateful, and angry. What the hell is going on with you? I have tried to be nice, hell I tried to help you through your panic attack, but what the fuck did I do to earn this much hate?”

You shook your head and stood up with a stack of reference books in hand to put them back. “Don’t read into it, Nazyalensky.”

She stood up and followed you, saying, “You have been distant from me, from your friends, everyone! Why?”

You continued putting books in their places, moving around to find the empty spot where the right ones were. “None of your business,” you said curtly.

She breathed in deeply, tamping her frustration down. “Brekker, as much as I hate to say it, I’m worried about you. That panic attack in the bathroom today was no little thing.”

You felt your hand clench into a fist and tried not to cry. “Please don’t mention my episodes of anxiety. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. I could’ve managed.”

Zoya resisted the urge to slap you silly. “Wasn’t that bad? Brekker, I walked in to see you almost put a knife to your arm. That, in case you didn’t know, is called self-harm. People get professional help for that sort of thing,” she put a hand on your wrist, making you unclench your fist. Her voice was soft, concerned as she continued, “Please, Brekker, talk to someone, if not me. I get why you won’t talk to me. But for Saint’s sake, get some help.”

You hated it when people talked to you that way. With that false concern in their voices. Saying ‘talk to someone’. You were fine. At least, you thought you were. Wasn’t stress normal?

“No,” you said forcefully, shaking her hand off your wrist. “Keep your false concern to yourself, Nazyalensky.”

Saints, you craved her skin on yours again, but you couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

Zoya caught your arm and pulled you to face her, risking a punch to the face. You looked angry. Genuinely angry at her. But she didn’t care.

“Who hurt you?” She asked, her dark eyes gleaming with something you didn’t know. “Who the hell hurt you so badly, that you decided to hurt yourself? That you ended up hurting others around you? Those who love you? Nina, Inej, Kaz, the whole lot of them are worried sick, Brekker! I have been worried sick!”

Your angry expression melted away, and your blazing eyes filled with tears which you tried to keep at bay. Your breath rattled in your chest as you turned away from her, saying softly, “It doesn’t matter.”

Exasperated, Zoya exploded at you, “It does matter, Y/n! You matter! People care about you so much, and—“ she tried making sure her voice didn’t crack with desperation, but failed. “I care about you!”

“Y-you-you called me ‘Y/n’ again,” you whispered, tears sill brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill. The same shock which held your heart in a fist in the bathroom earlier came back.

Your name sounded beautiful coming from her lips…

“Saints damn it all,” Zoya whispered under her breath. She looked back at you and hesitantly took the books from your hand and placed them on a pile nearby.

She held your hands in hers slightly, just curling her palms around your fingers, as she said, “I care about you so much, Y/n. I-I love you, and-and seeing you so hurt makes my heart ache terribly for some reason. I-I just want you to be okay. Since the day you walked into that damned classroom, I have been madly in love with you, and I don’t know what to do because you clearly hate me.”

Your voice was barely a whisper as you looked down, heart racing as the tears welled up more in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t hate you…”

“Then why have you been acting like it?” She sounded hurt, and it made your heart break.

Down came the walls, crumbling to rubble as you let the tears fall. You shook your head, saying, “I got scared, Zoya. I got so fucking scared. I was scared you were going to use me to get ahead, I was scared that if we even did happen, I’d lose you too quickly,” the tears weren’t stopping, and your hands grew shaky as the emotions overwhelmed you. “I was scared that-that I love you so much, I would scale a mountain, cross an ocean, and kill a thousand men just to hold your hand and kiss your lips.”

She dropped your hands and held your face in her hands, wiping your tears away with her thumbs.

Saints, those dark, dark eyes…you loved her eyes so much. Her touch was so gentle, you wanted more.

“I would never use you, Y/n,” she said, pulling you closer to her, holding your head in her palms so carefully that you felt it was a dream. “I would cut my hands off before before I’d even think of using you to get ahead. Honestly, you matter more than just some number on a sheet. And I mean that both in my context and in yours. You always matter more.”

She was so close, just a little further and you could kiss her.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so, so sorry, Zoya, for pushing you away. I was foolish to think that by withdrawing from you, my feelings would go away. It only made them stronger.”

Zoya felt a nervous knot in her stomach as she spoke the next words. “Y/n Brekker, top scorer of the Little Palace High School, may I have the privilege of being yours?”

Your heart leapt and raced so fast in your chest, yo we’re positive it was echoing in the library like a drumbeat. “Zoya Nazyalensky, second best scorer of the Little Palace High School, yes you may.”

“Really?” She smiled, her face glowing with happiness.

Your gaze skirted down to her lips and back to her eyes. “Saints, you have the most gorgeous eyes,” you admitted with a blush.

She laughed softly, a sound which filled you up with warmth so much that you wanted to just put it in a jar and keep it with you forever. “Do I, now?”

Your shy side came through, as you nodded, blushing redder. “Yeah.”

“Honestly, for someone so intimidating, you are so cute,” she chuckled.

“Saints, Zoya,” you said, flustered.

Zoya loved how you said her name. She loved how you said it so gently, as if it were a porcelain doll which could break at even the slightest bit of force.

She moved back and picked up the pile of books on the floor, putting them away as your brain processed what all just transpired.

Your feet moved without you controlling them, and Zoya turned around to see you standing behind her. “Saints, Brekker,” she chuckled. “You move like a cat. Soundless and-mph!” Her statement was muffled as you caught her by the waist and pressed your lips to hers, desire having taken over you.

Your mind went back to two weeks ago, in Nikolai’s library, where the kisses had been heated, lustful, and slightly sloppy. This time her lips were soft on yours, like a feather’s touch on your skin. Her hands cupped your face and she kissed back with a gentle force, smiling a little against your lips.

Your heart raced and your mind went blank again, and your thoughts only echoed one word.

Zoya, Zoya, Zoya.

When she pulled away panic seized you as you blushed and apologised profusely.

“I am so sorry, I should’ve asked first, I really don’t know what I’m doi-“ she caught you by the face again and pulled you in, kissing you softly to shut you up. Slowly, she backed you up against the bookshelf, your arms around her waist again, pulling her impossibly closer. Her body was flush against yours, and the only sound was that of the steady ticking of the library clock.

She pulled away, and your chests heaved with the desire for air.

“You’re not bad at kissing, I admit,” you giggled, your cheeks red.

Zoya’s cheeks were daintily dusted with pink, and she moved back to go towards the table.

“Come on now,” she said with a small smile, “Back to work.”

—Time Skip—

You came back home beaming, looking so happy that Kaz and the others paused eating to stare at you.

“You look stupidly happy,” said your brother. “Who’s got you grinning like an idiot?”

Jesper nudged him, “Zoya, obviously,”

You blushed and giggled at the sound of her name, making Nina slam her palms on the table, grinning madly, “You kissed her, didn’t you?!”

You giggled again and went to the kitchen, grabbing a plate for yourself, “Maybe….” You replied in a dreamy tone.

They all gasped collectively, and Nina and Jesper both squealed in excitement. “YOU KISSED HER!!”

You sat next to Inej, still blushing profusely as the thought of her lips on yours returned to you. “I’m sorry if I pushed you guys away…”

“No matter about that,” said Matthias, “We all know your academics matter a lot to you.”

“Exactly! You do this every time you get stressed, it’s not new,” said Wylan.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n,” said Kaz with a small smile.

“We need the gory details,” giggled Inej, resting her head atop yours.

You grinned and nodded, “Anything for my sisters.”

In the room, Inej and Nina sat on your bed while you narrated the entire incident in detail, squealing constantly till Mrs Romanov scolded you all to go to sleep.

—Time Skip—

The next day dawned appropriately bright, and you entered class with a spring in your step which everyone noticed.

“Y/n Brekker is back, everyone!” Announced Nikolai with an impish grin. “Good to see you smiling again, love.”

They were all around his desk, Alina sitting in Mal’s lap while the rest sat atop other desks in a loose circle.

“Never call me that again, Niko,” you grinned, ruffling his hair as you pulled up a chair to sit in, after putting your bag on your desk. “But yes, I’m back.”

You were laughing at something when you felt someone kiss the top of your head and whisper, “Good morning, darling,” in your ear.

Everyone went silent as Zoya sat in your lap, making herself comfortable.

“What?” She asked, brow raised at everyone.

“You and her…” Genya grinned. “Did you guys-“

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smile, wrapping your arms protectively around her waist.

“I NEED A BOOK ON THIS,” Nikolai loudly said, making everyone laugh as they congratulated you.

“It’s about time,” Alina chuckled. “We were getting tired of the constant banter.”

You chuckled and rested your head against Zoya’s back, smiling softly as she leaned into your touch

She was competition, yes.

But you loved her for it.

———————————————————————

Correction: this wasn’t the end. SiKe <3

Summary: A game of truth or dare takes a flustering turn, and you admit something to Nina.

Warnings: Making out, I guess

Word count: 2.5k

First Part

Second Part

Third Part

———————————————————————

The day dawned unnecessarily bright, and that meant you all had open-air jogging before gym class. Zoya never felt the need to compete in gym class, and today was no different.

“Hey Z!” Alina huffed as she jogged beside her friend, “Not competing incessantly with Y/n, I see.”

Zoya scoffed, “Only because an A in gym class means nothing to me. Let perfect Brekker be perfect at this alone, with her perfect abs and perfect arms and perfect legs…”

“I have a feeling that this has more to do with than just gym class,” said Alina with a chuckle. “Although, I do agree with the abs bit.”

“Shut up, Starkov,” said the other girl. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“The boys are having a party at Nikolai’s place, so you think you want to come?” She asked. “Assuming you’re not going to be a boring, studious topper girl and study on a Friday night.”

“No, obviously I can’t come because I have to-“ before Zoya could finish, Alina interrupted her.

“Y/n already said yes,” she sniggered.

Zoya grumbled, “I will come. But not for Y/n, because you asked me so nicely and didn’t call me a boring topper girl.”

“Sure, that’s the reason,” smirked her friend. Zoya simply laughed and shoved her gently, before continuing laps.

—Time Skip—

You rested your head on your crossed arms before class started, feeling a little tired. You and the others had stayed up late playing cards, and you had to admit, Nina played a mean game of bluff.

Someone irritatingly familiar hit your head with a book and snickered, "Looks like our little topper didn't get her beauty sleep last night."

You put your hand up and childishly pulled Zoya's hair, replying, "I hope you get a 78 on your next test."

"Wow, truly the most life-threatening insult," scoffed the dark-haired girl, sitting at her seat.

"Have fun being second to me, Nazyalensky," you chuckled, putting your head back down, but making sure to keep your head positioned facing her, so your eyes stayed riveted on her as a small and mischievous smile danced on your lips.

Saints, your smile was adorable.

'Stop it, Zoya,' she chided herself again. 'These thoughts are too uncalled for.'

You continued observing her as she began to read her textbook. You watched closely as her deep brown eyes scanned the page, and her teeth tugged at her bottom lip in concentration.

Her eyes were so pretty...and by the Saints, you wished those were your teeth on her lips...

'Ew, no,' you frowned and looked away, burying your face well inside your arms. 'That's Nazyalensky. Not some pretty girl you like...'

"Alright, good morning, everyone!" The voice of the teacher snapped you out of your sleepiness.

'Well,' you thought, 'Let the competition begin.'

--Time Skip--

You pulled on your favourite black leather jacket carefully, loving how it felt on your skin. The soft black material hugged your slightly muscled arms in just the right places, and it made you feel confident as you turned out a folded part of the collar and looked at yourself nicely in the mirror, fixing your hair as you pleased. Underneath you had worn a tight black t-shirt, just so you could pull off the jacket if you got.

"Someone's looking masculine, I see," Nina smirked, walking in with Inej.

"Masculine for a certain annoyingly beautiful brunette, maybe?" Inej suggested with a giggle.

"Oh shut up, you both," you blushed. You looked at Nina, who wore a lovely red dress, and Inej, who donned a white, billowy blouse and straight cut pants. "I see you both all dressed up for Matthias and Kaz."

Both your best friends blushed a little and avoided the subject.

"Guys, we're getting late," Kaz said, limping into the room. You and him almost always shared clothes with each other, however reluctantly. So, naturally, when you saw him wearing your favourite button down shirt, you had to say something.

“That’s my button down,” you scowled.

He smoothed it down from the front and shrugged, “Just borrowing it.”

“We get it, you’re a whore for Inej, please don’t make it obvious,” Jesper groaned.

Kaz hit him gently over the head with his cane at him, which he ducked away from. “Shut the hell up, Fahey.”

“Just stating facts, Saints,” he chuckled. “Now come on, all of you, let’s go.”

Nikolai’s house was, as a matter of fact, huge. It was basically a mansion. The blonde haired boy welcomed the seven of you warmly and led you all to the sitting room.

Seeing you all enter, Alina called out, “Looks like the Crows have made their entrance!”

Everyone turned to face you seven, and they greeted you warmly, beckoning you all individually to sit.

Zoya, who usually sat straight-backed and poker-faced, was seated comfortably in a chair, wearing a deep blue, full-sleeved, body-fitting crop top with a pair of baggy jeans, and a lazy smile on her face. Her hair was down in its captivating waves, and you noticed that she’d painted her nails, too, as she took a sip from her glass of soda.

You wanted to tangle your hands in those chocolate brown locks, and feel those nails down your back so bad…

Shaking your unholy thoughts away, you grumbled a little to yourself in irritation. You didn’t get it, Zoya was your enemy. You couldn’t have these thoughts about her.

To distract yourself, you sat on the floor with Mal, Alina, Genya, and David, talking to them happily.

“Zoya,” Nikolai nudged her. “Look who’s here.”

Zoya, who hadn’t noticed you enter the room, nearly choked on the soda she was drinking as she saw you.

Saints, you looked so good.

You looked stunning in your jacket, sitting your arm atop your propped-up knee. She had a clear view of the rings on your fingers as you fidgeted idly with your hand in mid-air. Mal had clearly mentioned something about arm wrestling, because you then laughed with a raised brow, and pulled off the jacket, revealing the tight black t-shirt you wore underneath.

In school, you only ever wore sweaters or baggy flannels, so this was definitely the first time she was seeing your figure properly.

Your biceps flexed as you put your arm atop a table, daring Mal to take up the challenge.

“This, I have to see…” she mumbled, standing up and going over to where the group was gathering.

“What, Oretsev, too scared to take on a girl?” You jeered playfully at him. “I’m not always shy and quiet, my friend,” you added upon seeing his shocked express at your boldness.

“Alright,” he nodded with an upside down grin. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and took your hand, poised to arm wrestle you.

“And three…two…one…wrestle!” Nikolai clinked a glass and announced.

Immediately, both his and your arms flexed. His face was scrunched up with effort, while yours held a quiet satisfaction. Slowly, he started winning, but the second his expression turned to one of victory, you slammed his fist down on the other side with so much force it rattled the table.

Everyone cheered and Mal looked shocked. You patted him on the back and grinned, “Maybe next time, Oretsev.”

“Good one, Y/n,” he laughed as you pulled your jacket back on.

Saints, those biceps…

Zoya couldn’t help but think, as she had grown to enjoy these little masculine things about you.

“Guys, truth or dare!” Announced Jesper, holding up an empty glass bottle.

Everyone sat on the ground in a circle, with you sitting between Inej and Nina, as usual.

The bottle spun and landed on Jesper. “Dare,” he said boldly.

Everyone began to think and you said, “Alright, I have a good one,”

“Oh Saints, please, not Y/n,” Jesper panicked. “Anyone but her!”

You giggled maniacally, “I dare your chicken ass to kiss Wylan.”

“Wait, aren’t you all siblings or something?!” Asked Genya, shocked.

“No,” Nina replied, disgusted. “We’re best friends. Have been since second grade.”

“Yep,” you nodded. “The only siblings in this group are Kaz and I.”

“Interesting,” Mal chuckled. “Come on then, Fahey, don’t be a chicken!”

You all teased him relentlessly till he gave up.

“Fine!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. He marched over to Wylan, who’s big brown eyes were wide with shock as Jesper sat in front of him, held his face and kissed him soundly on the lips.

You all cheered as you and Nina high-fived announcing, “Wesper is official now, guys!”

Jesper smacked you upside the head before settling back next to Kaz, who had a small smile on his face at the interaction.

The bottle spun again and landed on Zoya, who panicked a little when Nikolai, Alina and Genya all got devious expressions on their faces.

“Truth or dare, Nazyalensky?” Her panic was replaced by annoyance as she heard your familiar voice.

“Truth,” she said boldly.

“I’m giving her one!” Alina said a little too enthusiastically. “Z, tell me, who in this room do you think is the most kissable?”

Oblivious to the obvious stares towards a blushing Y/n Brekker, Zoya replied, “I’d say Nikolai.”

A collective groan of annoyance spread through the circle and she shrugged, “I mean, look at him. He’s got the jawline, the eyes, even the hair is perfect.”

“Thank you, Zoya, for admitting that In beautiful, just how everyone else does at some point,” replied her friend with a laugh.

Mal chucked his empty plastic cup at the boy’s head and said, “Spin the bottle, idiot.”

Turn after turn went on, and the bottle hadn’t landed on you even once. By then, Nina had to sit in Matthias’ lap, Inej had to hold Kaz’s gloved hand till her next turn, Alina admitted to drawing a penis on every capital on the map of the world in school, and Nikolai had to flirt with a very confused David while Genya glared at him steadily.

“Y/n!” Everyone cheered when the bottle pointed at you.

“Damn it,” you sighed playfully. “I pick dare.”

A devious smirk appeared on everyone but David’s faces, and Genya said, “Seven minutes in Heaven with Zoya.”

Zoya, who was munching on some chips which were in a bowl placed amongst the many other snacks inside the circle coughed and choked on them while your cheeks became as red as Nina’s dress.

“Fuck you, Safin,” you mumbled. “Seriously, fuck you.”

“Come on, it doesn’t count if there are no feelings between you both, right? Should be easy enough,” said Nina with a knowing smirk.

“Well then it won’t count,” you said forcefully, standing up. “Where the hell do we do it? I don’t see any closet or anything here.”

“Since you two are humongous nerds, the library’s over there.” Nikolai pointed at a white door a little down the hallway.

“Fine,” you glared at Zoya. “Coming, Nazyalensky? Or will you need a gilded invitation?”

Zoya stood up with the utmost reluctance, and followed you to the library.

The very second you closed the door behind her, you both were aware of the people clustered in the hallway, with their ear to the door. To make sure, you banged on the door with your fist and called out, “I better not hear any giggling, you horny little shits!”

The library was kind of small, with a big desk in the center of the room, and three walls with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A small metal ladder was attached so that the upper books could be reached, and it had ball bearings fitted on the panel above the shelves to move it.

“Now,” you fiddled with your jacket sleeves, nervousness pulsing in your stomach. “Seven minutes…”

“Your time starts now!” Nikolai screeched, his voice muffled through the door.

“No feelings,” said Zoya forcefully. “At all. It doesn’t count.”

“Nope. Nothing at all,” you sighed, approaching her. “Wait…how do-how do I do this?”

Zoya rolled her eyes and caught your jacket collar in her fists, pulling you closer to her, saying, “Just kiss me, Brekker.”

“Um…don’t I ask for consent or somethi-“ before you could complete your sentence, she kissed you long and hard, her soft lips making your thoughts completely disappear.

She pulled away and smirked at your blushing, wide-eyed face. “Looks like I’m a better kisser, Brekker,”

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Your hands were frozen at your sides, your brain malfunctioning and rushing at a thousand miles a minute.

“Sh-shut up, Nazyalensky…” you stuttered.

Saints she had such soft lips…

She looked at you with a daring glance, crossing her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you make me, Brekker? Or are you too chicken?”

Finally clearing your thoughts, you put your hands on her waist and pressed her against the closest bookshelf, your lips on hers again, this time a little hungrier. You did, however hold back a little.

No feelings, she had said. At all.

Your thoughts vanished again as you got lost in just kissing her, Zoya’s hands suddenly on your cheeks, her tongue swiping your bottom lip as she deepened the kiss. Seconds later you were the one against the wall, and her hands were roaming your body, pushing your jacket off your shoulders while your hands went in her hair.

She pulled away and bent her head to kiss your neck, her movements swift and experienced. You let out the quietest of moans as she kissed down will your collarbone and found the soft spot of the crook of your neck with her teeth.

“Kinky, are we, Brekker?” She mumbled against your skin upon feeling your grip tighten ever so slightly at the action.

“Fuck you, Nazyalensky,” you breathed, holding her face in your hands to kiss her again. Your teeth grazed her bottom lip, hesitantly, and you prayed your hands weren’t sweating as you held back the urge to caress her cheeks. To curb the feeling, you waited till she put her hands on your waist to pull you flush against her body, so that you could feel the soft waves of her dark hair against your fingertips.

Zoya sensed how hesitant you were, how you were calculating every move to try and get a sound from her.

With your hands fisting her hair like that, it was almost working…

“First time kissing a girl, Brekker?” She panted as you put your hands on her hips to push her against the opposite bookcase, knocking down some books in your lust-filled frenzy.

“None of your business, Nazyalensky,” you smirked and dipped your head down, kissing the column of her neck just how she had done yours, making her tilt her head back and moan softly.

Saints that sound was gorgeous from her…

“Saints, Brekker,” she panted, pulling you up again, kissing you hungrily as if you were going to vanish any second. “Fuck you for being this good.”

“You admit I’m better than you, then, Nazyalensky?” Your hands slipped under her shirt, and she gasped at the feeling of your cold hands on her shockingly warm skin.

A pulse of pride in your chest had your cheeks warming up and you felt a soft warmth in your heart which was far too unfamiliar. It scared you shitless.

However, just as you fiddled with the hem of her jeans, the others slammed their fists against the door screaming “Time’s up!”

You moved back, fixing your jacket and trying to not stare at her.

You looked at her differently now. Where you’d daydream about her lips, you craved them. You wanted to feel her skin against yours, you wanted to have her pin you against the wall again.

You had to admit, you wanted her.

“Not bad, Brekker,” she panted, her lips swollen from kissing.

You blushed and shook your head, “Go fuck yourself, Nazyalensky.”

She shrugged, “Might want to do it yourself, maybe, Brekker?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Funny, cause you were kissing me like you’d never wanted anything more only two seconds ago. Catching feelings, are we, Brekker?”

“No feelings,” you snapped. “Or did you forget, Nazyalensky?”

What the hell had you just done? What were these thoughts? Why did you want her so badly?

She was a little shocked and perhaps a little hurt, too at your tone.

“You’re insufferable, Brekker,” she scoffed, opening the door.

“The feeling’s mutual, Nazyalensky,” you rolled your eyes.

You did feel bad, truly, seeing her face fall as you snapped at her. But you had no choice. She was out of your league. She could never be yours.

She was competition.

And she could never love you, nor could she ever be with you.

And you couldn’t be with her either.

You settled next to Nina and Inej, completely silent now.

They both exchanged confused glances with each other as well as with Genya and Alina, who looked quizzically at you and Zoya, where you were both making sure to avoid each other’s gaze.

‘Stupid,’ you both thought to yourselves as you both masked your emotions behind a smile, trying to make it seem like you both were enjoying. ‘She can never like you back.’

—Time Skip—

You sat on your bed after the party, Nina and Inej both looking at you in concern. You hadn’t spoken a word the entire ride back home, and avoided all questions about what had happened in the library.

You could still feel Zoya’s body against yours, her skin under your fingertips, her lips on your neck, and it made you want to throw up.

I can’t give in to these feelings, you thought. I won’t. I can’t make myself believe something can happen where it can’t. Where it won’t.

“N/n…” Nina sat next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Talk to me.”

You heard her gentle tone, felt her loving touch on your shoulder. Nina had always been like a sister to you, as had Inej, and the way they looked genuinely concerned, and wanted to know more than just the gory details, it was enough to make you break.

“Y/n, come on, we want to know what’s going on in that head of yours,” Inej added, sitting on your other side.

“Saints, I love her,” you breathed. “I’m in love with her and I hate it so much, you have no idea.”

Nina pulled you into a hug as you broke down into tears.

“I don’t know what to do, Nina,” you sobbed. “I can’t have her. She’s competition. Dating her would be like suicide. My grades would plummet, and she would use me…”

“Ssh…” Nina silenced your panicked rambling. “Is this kind of unrequited? Maybe. Cliché? Absolutely. But look, if you love her, there’s nothing you can do about it. I know how your little heart works, Y/n. We both do.”

“This girl must be special,” nodded Inej. “Because you don’t just love anyone. That heart of yours has a wall which few can scale. And Zoya has scaled that wall, as much as you hate to admit it.”

“I’m terrified,” you said shakily.

“Naturally,” Nina nodded. “But you decide what you want to do. Do you want to let her in, give in to the temptation that is Zoya, or do you want to hurt yourself by crushing your feelings to dust?”

“Think it over,” Inej patted your hair. “And decide what you want to do.”

You nodded and thanked them both, and bade them goodnight as they lay in their own beds, falling asleep instantly out of tiredness.

But you lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, thinking about Nina’s two choices till you reached a conclusion.

This was going to hurt.

—————

Summary: You and Zoya meet for tutoring, and another teacher throws you both together again.

First Part

Second Part

———————————————————————

Six p.m. You dreaded the hour as it crept closer. Naturally not wanting Zoya to one-up you, you had arrived ten minutes early. The only table which wasn’t occupied was in a dusty corner at the back of the library, and you’d taken out your heavily annotated textbook to read before she arrived.

Someone whacked you on the back of your head, and you instantly snapped back to elbow them in the ribs.

“Ow!” Zoya exclaimed with a scowl as she sat beside you. “You’re a little savage, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, “Never do that again or I’ll personally make sure you can never walk again, Nazyalensky,”

“Whatever, Brekker,” she scoffed. “So, we’ll be covering math today thanks to your abysmal performance in the last few tests,”

“Don’t have to rub it in,” you grumbled.

She raised a brow and said cockily, “What, that I’m smarter than you?”

You clenched your fist underneath the table. She was getting on your nerves now.

“Did you come here to tutor me or to gloat?” You snarled, a frown scrunching your brows together.

You were adorable when you got riled up…

Zoya laughed cockily and shook her head, opening out her equally heavily annotated math book.

“Alright, Brekker, let me dumb it down for you…”

—Time Skip—

Kaz wasn’t getting any better, and the doctor was talking about another week of bed rest, since the fever your brother had gotten had made his leg worse.

“He says I have to use the cane more,” your brother confided that evening as you sat with him playing cards to keep him entertained.

You sighed softly and patted his hand lovingly. “It’s for your own good.”

“I know,” he scowled. “But come on. I’m in high school and I’m using a cane. Think of how I’ll be bullied.”

You shrugged, “I know a guy who can make it badass for you.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

You nodded and smiled. “Really.”

He gently punched your shoulder good-naturedly. “You’re a good sister, Y/n.”

“Okay, no need to bust out the compliments yet, little brother,” you scoffed with a laugh. “You’re not dying.”

“First of all, we’re twins and you’re like, twelve minutes older than me,” he rolled his eyes. “And way to ruin an emotional moment, dumbass.”

“I have the emotional capacity of a toothpick,” you admitted. “So expect nothing from me.”

As much as you hated to admit it, tutoring with Zoya was helping. You were slowly regaining your position at the top of the class, and, suspecting that Zoya might sabotage you in some way, you made sure to study extra after she’d leave the library for the evening so that you could get a head start.

Obviously you’d never tell her that it was helping. She’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Had fun struggling in the test?” She asked snidely, referring to the stack of test papers on the teacher’s desk.

“Had fun getting lesser marks than me?” You asked, picking up your own paper from the pile.

“Pardon me, but who’s the one getting tutored?” She smirked, holding up her history paper which bore the score 49/50 in bold red letters.

You laughed, mimicking her cocky tone as you showed your own paper, which had 50/50 written with red and a good remark from the teacher beside it. “Pardon me, but who’s the one getting a full score?”

“Fuck you, Brekker,” she grumbled, her ears burning with irritation as you went to sit with Jesper and Nina.

“In your dreams, Nazyalensky,” you cackled, fist-bumping your two best friends.

“You know, I’m sensing some sexual tension,” admitted Jesper, nodding at Zoya.

Nina chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. The flirting is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Your ears burned with a blush as you shook your head. “Absolutely not! She is a cocky, arrogant annoying, and irritatingly attractive girl.”

“Attractive, hm?” Nina raised a brow, resting her cheek on her fist as she looks at you with a knowing smirk on her face.

You flicked her forehead and clarified, “Irritatingly attractive. Like, have you seen her? All sharp jawline, full lips and dark eyes. No one so annoying should have such attractive features!”

Inej and Wylan came up to you thee as they overheard the conversation,

“Do you like her?” Wylan hinted with a smirk.

You grimaced and fake-gagged, shaking your head. “Ew, I would rather die!”

“Sometimes, I wish you would stop being so delusional,” Inej sighed. “It is painstakingly obvious.”

You grumbled and buried your blushing face in your hands. “I hate you all.”

Meanwhile, Zoya was chatting with her own friends, Alina and Genya.

“Who does she think she is?” She glared at you as you talked to your own friends.

Alina shrugged, “Personally, I think you’ve got a thing for her.”

“Agreed,” Genya giggled, sitting on the edge of the desk. “Like, all you ever talk about is ‘Oh, Brekker is this, Brekker is that,’ or ‘You won’t not believe what Brekker did!’

Zoya let out an incredulous snort. “Me! Like her? Brekker? Absolutely not. I would rather fail all subjects and die!”

“Why is that?” Alina smirked, having spotted the lie.

“Well, she’s annoying, ridiculously cocky, and infuriatingly cute!” Zoya scoffed. “Like, no one should have the right to have such a smile when they’re the literal embodiment of irritation!”

“I’m sensing sexual tension…” Genya said in a sing-song voice.

Zoya shoved the redhead gently off her desk and mumbled, “You’re both idiots.”

The teacher came in and called for decorum, so the class settled down at last.

“Alright,” she said with a sigh. “Exams are nearly over, so I should brief you on your latest project. This one is worth 20% of your annual grade, so make sure your report is well done. I will be assigning pairs.”

A collective groan went through the class, and Jesper whispered to Nina, “Thirty vlachki says Y/n’s gonna be with Zoya.”

“I say she’s with Alina,” Nina replied.

“You’re both idiots,” you scoffed.

“Alright, you will all have to make a comprehensive report on any one nation in particular, mapping out every last aspect of its history. Simple enough?” The teacher asked, and the class mumbled in agreement. “Good because either ways I do not give a single damn. This is due in the next one week.

“Now for the pairs, Nazyalensky and—er—girl Brekker,” Jesper nudged Nina with a grin as she said it. “Starkov and Oretsev, Zenik and Helvar, Fahey and Van Eck, Ghafa and—well—boy Brekker?”

“I suggest you go with first names, Miss,” you chuckled, making the class hum with agreement.

“Fine,” she agreed, starting over. “Zoya and Y/n, Alina and Malyen, Nina and Matthias, Jesper and Wylan, Inej and Kaz…”

“I have a feeling she ships everyone with each other,” Nina chuckled.

You sighed in irritation. Zoya Nazyalensky of all people was your partner. It was like the Saints were condemning you.

First you have to be tutored by her and now you have to work with her?

After class, Zoya caught you near the lockers and said, “So, we have to work together now.”

You grimaced, “Yes.”

She chuckled softly and poked you with her pencil. “I guess I’ll have to make sure it’s good work, since I’m better.”

“Says the one who got a 49.” You scoffed, catching her wrist sharply when she made a move to poke you again.

She wrestled her hand from your grip and caught your chin in her hand, pulling you close.

“Gloat about that again, I dare you,” she hissed in a tone so menacing, you actually figured the consequences would be bad.

You giggled, however. “Getting riled up because you know I’m better than you, Nazyalensky?”

Her grip loosened around your chin as she caught your collar in her fists, her dark eyes glaring fiercely into your e/c ones.

Saints, she had pretty eyes…

“Shut up, Brekker, or so help me, I will make you fail,” she seethed.

“And risk getting in the bad books of Reznik?” you laughed evilly. “We both know you could never.”

She let go of you and scowled. “Tonight, six p.m. Keep your material ready and do not be late.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my work isn’t as mediocre as yours,” you shot back with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck you, Brekker.”

“In your dreams, Nazyalensky,” you chuckled and turned away, walking towards your friends who had somehow miraculously appeared there.

Jesper clapped you on the back and sing-songed, “Sexual tension…”

You gently elbowed him in the rubs and mumbled, “Shut up and go moon over Wylan, you dumbass.”

—Time Skip—

“Decided a country?” Zoya asked as she arrived at the library that evening.

You showed her your binder of resources as you said plainly, “We will do our project on Kerch.”

“Why Kerch, when Ravka has such a rich history?” She asked with a raised brow.

You grumbled and said, “Because Kerch is where we get everything from. We get our oil, our resources, our ships, our manual labour from there. Everything essential to run a country, Kerch provides.”

“I have to admit, Brekker,” she curled her bottom lip in approval, “I’m impressed.”

“As if your opinion means anything to me,” you kicked her under the table. However, some part inside you warmed up at her words.

Maybe it means something a little bit…

While you both discussed the topic, adding each other’s views and opinions while drafting, Zoya had to notice little things when you both would take long silences as a break.

She noticed the way you tugged at a stray lock of your hair, or how you began turning your wrists after a long round of writing.

Her favourite thing was when you’d spin your pen deftly between your fingers.

It had her mind going places it shouldn’t…

‘Stop it, Zoya,’ she thought to herself sternly. ‘You have to beat her, not stare at her fingers!’

Meanwhile, you noticed how she always furrowed her brows in concentration while she explained a topic to add in, or how she bit her lip if she was writing something down.

But, your personal favourite was when she’d make eye contact when you’d explain something, her head tilted slightly as she listened intently.

Insufferable as she was, she knew how to listen.

You leaned back in your chair and sighed loudly, rubbing your eyes tiredly. The clock had chimed ten p.m. it had been four hours of work, and both of you looked worse for wear. The table was piled with books, and you both had to scoot closer in order to work on the massive stack of pages which had the first draft of your report. Thirty two pages in four hours.

You wanted to collapse and fall asleep, but only after making fun of your partner.

However, you had to admit that Zoya with her wavy hair tied up in a messy knot atop her head, with a slightly sluggish smile of satisfaction on her face was…maybe a little bit cute.

“Take a break,” you said. “I need my opponent to be forever ready for battle, Nazyalensky,”

“You are insufferable, Brekker,” she rolled her eyes as she closed her eyes tiredly.

You chuckled and decided to draft a conclusion to the pair of yours’ messy notes.

Suddenly, you felt a bit of weight against your shoulder. You froze instantly, unsure of what to do.

It was Zoya, sleeping soundly, snoring a little with her arms crossed and her head against your shoulder.

The enmity against her within you made your skin bristle, and the urge to push her off you rise on your fingertips.

But something else, something a little stronger, pushed the feeling away and replaced it with the need to keep her peacefully asleep while you finished the work up for her.

You’d bully her about that later, obviously.

Zoya started awake twenty minutes later and immediately moved away from you, her cheeks burning red.

Did she really just fall asleep against your shoulder?

“Did I fall asleep?” She said, fixing her hair hastily, trying to regain composure.

You chuckled, “Looks like Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake.”

She kicked you under the table and replied sneakily, “Working with you is more tiring than working on a farm during harvest season.”

“Oh yes, because I’m such a slow worker that I made a draft conclusion for the report in twenty minutes?” You raised a brow, holding the paper out to her.

She snatched it from you with a side eye and pulled the pencil out from her hair, making her chocolate brown locks fall down her back in slightly tangled but otherwise captivating waves.

She checked over the page, making a few changes here and there before she placed the page down with the others, sighing deeply.

“Well,” she said, as if the words were a massive effort. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s our first draft, idiot,” you scoffed. “We have to work on it more, so don’t get too excited. I’m still waiting for a better response to my hard work.”

“You did a page in twenty minutes, that’s hardly anything,” she rolled her eyes.

You leaned closer and cupped a hand behind your ear, saying in a tone as though you were prompting her, “Oh, thank you so, so much, especially for letting me nap like the little baby I am while you did the work…”

“Thanks, Brekker,” she sighed. “You are insufferable.”

“I’m not usually insufferable, but you get so easily riled up it is hard not to be,” you giggled, packing up.

You both reached the steps outside the library. “Want me to walk you home so you don’t get lost, little baby Nazyalensky?” You jeered at her, leaning against the railing.

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand against where you were leaning, pinning you, somehow, against the railing, saying, “Don’t get too confident, Brekker. Take me on a date first.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, as your slightly shyer side threatened to come out.

What was it with her and pinning you against things this way? Did she know how it made you feel?

You made a face, praying the dim light masked your blush. “As if I would ever! No amount of money in the world could make me do that!”

You consciously avoided her gaze, afraid of the feeling in your stomach. It was a knot of heat which pulsed when she tried making eye contact with you.

Oh, but how enticing that offer was…

“It’s Saturday tomorrow,” she said, grasping your chin between her thumb and forefinger to keep you from looking away. Her dark eyes locked on yours magnetically, as you felt that foreign heat travel steadily lower. “So I expect you to be here at four p.m, got it?”

Saints, she looked good up close, too.

You laughed nervously, and moved such that you got slightly closer to her. Your gaze skirted to her lips unintentionally, and your body was practically immobilised in a gay panic.

But, when her breath hitched and her dominant demeanour faltered, you laughed and moved away, bowing mockingly.

“And that’s how you flirt, Nazyalensky,” you smirked, thankful to your ability to get easily flustered for once. “Getting a little too obsessed with me, I see.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s called wishful thinking, Brekker. As as if I would ever be.”

You hummed. “Well, you’re too annoying to be my type. So, wishful thinking on your part, really.”

“I’m too annoying? Brekker, you make a bratty toddler look like an angel,” she laughed humourlessly.

“Whatever, good night, little baby Nazyalensky,” you sniggered, gently punching her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck you, Brekker.”

Obviously, you gave her your standard reply.

“In your dreams, Nazyalensky!”

Zoya, as she walked away, mumbled to herself, “For now, dreams will have to suffice…”

———

WOW SO MANY UPDATES-

Summary: When your brother gets violently ill, you and your family take care of him in shifts. This, however, stresses you out, and your grades slip. This leads the teacher to assign you a student who can tutor you…

——————————————————————

“The answer is thirty three point five six cubic centimetres of volume,” you had raised your hand and delivered the answer to a challenging mathematics sum before Zoya for the fifth time that hour.

Obviously.

Zoya practically growled in frustration and resisted the urge to ball up her sheet of work and throw it at you. Again? You couldn’t possibly be that smart! It had only been two weeks of your admission in this school and you had missed the entire week which they spent learning that chapter!

“Well done, Miss Brekker,” smiled the teacher.

“Yeah, nice one, Y/n,” came the voice of Malyen Oretsev, the boy you had punched in the face when he’d tried making a move on Nina. A hum of agreement went through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly to yourself.

Saints, you had a cute smile.

Zoya caught her thoughts a second too late as she replaced it with a disgusted expression, moving on to the next sum.

“Catch up, Nazyalensky,” you giggled softly, poking her with your pencil gently.

“Watch me, Brekker,” she replied, her own pencil moving fast across the paper.

However, just as she opened her mouth to give the next answer, you had already announced it.

“Eighteen ball bearings will be required and the volume displaced is fifteen point seven cubic centimetres,” a smug smile took over your features as you spun the pencil deftly in your hand, looking at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it next time, Nazyalensky.”

From behind you, the voice of Nikolai Lantsov piped in, “I need a movie or a novel of these two!”

You crumpled up a paper into a ball and threw it at him, laughing good-naturedly. Quiet and mildly threatening as you were, everyone had to admit, you were very friendly. Well, with everyone but her.

Hearing you laugh, Zoya caught another thought a second too late again.

Saints, your laugh was adorable.

Why was she thinking this way?! You were her enemy! You were competition! She can’t call competition cute and adorable!

“Next sum, everyone,” said the teacher. “Exercise seven question three.”

Just as you began solving, the school secretary appeared at the door.

“Is Y/n Brekker in this class?” She asked softly. You frowned and raised your hand, confused.

“Please come with me, dear,” she said.

You apologised to the teacher before running out of the door. Zoya stared after you, slightly happy that she was back to being the only first bencher, however temporary.

You reached the nurse’s office where the secretary had sent you, to see your brother vomiting in a bucket, his body quivering weakly. You ran up to him and put an arm carefully across his shoulders in concern.

“Hey, Kazzle, what’s wrong?” You whispered, “When did it happen?”

“In Physics class,” he groaned. “I think I caught that blockhead Matthias’ stomach bug.” He leaned forward and vomited again, making your stomach lurch in disgust.

“We’ve called your guardians from the contact in your admission forms, and they’re coming to get him home. I’m afraid he can’t come to school for the next two weeks,” replied the nurse.

“What?!” You exclaimed, rubbing your brother’s back gently. “It’s exam season in two weeks! How will he study!?”

“I’m sick and you’re thinking about exam season?” Your brother groaned, kicking you weakly in the shin.

The door then burst open to reveal Nina, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan, and Inej, all with concerned expressions on their faces.

“Do you think we can get dismissed early, too?” You asked, raising a brow in question.

The secretary shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

You grumbled in frustration and pressed a kiss to Kaz’s hair. “I know you hate affection, but I’m worried, so bear with me.”

He rolled his eyes with a small smile and said hoarsely, “I’ll see you guys at home.”

—Time Skip—

Zoya noticed how you’d been anxious the whole day. Seeing you distracted in class was a very concerning thing for everyone, and several people asked if you were alright. Obviously wanting to keep a certain level of privacy, you shook your head and said all was fine.

“Take care of yourself, Brekker,” Zoya curtly said as she approached you at the end of the day. “Although, it’s nice to one-up you in class.”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, Nazyalensky. Just wait till exam season comes around. Let’s see you try one-upping me then.”

You turned on your heel and stormed away, ending the conversation with the real threat hanging in the air.

At home, Kaz lay on his bed, a bucket beside him and a quilted blanket atop him. You felt his forehead and shrank back at how warm it was. The landlady, Mrs Romanov, entered with a bowl of soup.

“Please, I can’t,” groaned your brother, grimacing at the thought of eating.

“Kaz, you have to,” Nina tried persuading him, but he was adamant that he would not eat the soup.

Mr Romanov entered behind his wife and announced, “Listen up now, children. While you are at school, my wife and I have work at the shop. I’m afraid one of you must be looking after him at all times. So if Five out of six of you has a shift with us, the last one won’t be out gallivanting, you will be at home with Kaz, understood?”

“Yes, Mr Romanov,” you all nodded in unison.

This was going to be a long few weeks.

—Time Skip—

The others had returned far too late the previous night and you had to stay awake till almost four a.m while they enjoyed delivering medicines and other supplies to people in need.

“Fuck you for mothering me,” Kaz had mumbled so many times that you finally slapped him on the face gently in irritation.

“Fuck you for falling sick, you idiot!” You had scoffed, dabbing the cold water soaked towel on his feverish head again.

You nearly dozed off for the fifth time in class, making the teacher gently rap your table with her ruler, before she sternly said, “Please see me after class, Y/n.”

“Don’t fall too far behind, Brekker,” sneered Zoya. But you were too tired to snap back at her.

“You too, Zoya,” added the teacher with a raised brow.

After class, you and Zoya stood in front of the teacher, who was looking through your latest assignments.

“Y/n, for the last week and a half, I have seen a sudden drop in your grades. I am quite concerned as you are one of my top students. This sudden slip is common amongst all your subjects, which is rather alarming,” she displayed your last three math revision tests, one English essay assignment, and a badly failed geography test.

Your ears and cheeks burned red with shame, as Zoya suppressed a snigger.

“What do you suggest, Miss Reznik?” Zoya asked with a cutting edge to her tone.

The teacher sighed and put your papers away before saying, “I suggest that you, Zoya, tutor Y/n for the rest of the semester. After all, we cannot risk this situation again.”

Your eyes went wide as you exclaimed, “The rest of the semester?! My grades slipped for a week!”

“And I see there’s a certain amount of…hostility between the pair of you, so I suggest you both take this as a learning exercise to maybe foster that hostility into friendliness,” replied the teacher. “When Y/n’s grades come up, you both may decide who tutors the other on which days. Preferably alternate days alternate person.”

“Ma’am, are you sure there’s no one else for this task?!” You asked, jaw slack with shock.

“Aw, I guess you have to admit I’m smarter than you, Brekker,” Zoya cooed at you snidely.

“Shut up, Nazyalensky,” you scowled, kicking her in the shin.

“Dismissed,” sighed the teacher.

You stormed out of the classroom while Zoya continued to taunt you, saying things like “Catch up, Brekker,” or “Looks like it’s obvious who’s smarter.”

Finally having had enough, you caught her by the collar and slammed her against the lockers nearby. The sound of her body colliding with the metal echoed through the deserted corridor, and her shocked expression made your anger cease a little. But not entirely.

“You better keep your gloating to yourself, Nazyalensky,” you seethed, your nod winches from hers. “Or Saints help me, I will make you sorry.”

Saints, some part of her wanted to kiss you desperately.

“Tomorrow evening six p.m, the local library,” she smirked, her hand moving up to grab your chin. “Don’t you dare be late.”

An extremely foreign feeling crept over your skin at her touch, at her gaze, making your cheeks tint pink. She took your distraction to her advantage and spun you around so that she wasn’t against the lockers anymore; you were.

She pinned your hands above your head by your wrists as she leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “Never do that again, Brekker. Two can play that game.”

Another violent blush coated your cheeks as you glared at her, making her smirk more as she moved back and walked down the hallway to the exit.

“Fuck you, Nazyalensky!” You shouted out to her.

“In your dreams, Brekker!” She laughed evilly and shut the doors behind her with a bang.

You walked back home with your head in a whirl and disbelief in your body at how she made you blush.

Your mind went back to how her gaze locked on yours so strongly, you couldn’t look away. How gorgeous she looked as she pinned you to the lockers.

How much you liked it when she did that…

“Saints alive,” you breathed as you rang the doorbell of your house. “What the hell is happening?”

————

Summary: Zoya Nazyalensky has always enjoyed top marks in class, and was always in the good books of the teachers. The truest first-bench student to ever exist. However, one day, a new student takes the spot. Through the year, several events bring Zoya and Y/n together, and in the end, something strange occurs.

High School!AU

Zoya Nazyalensky x fem!Brekker!reader

Warnings: None

———————————————————————

“Top marks as usual, Miss Nazyalensky,” smiled the home room teacher, Miss Reznik, as she handed Zoya her test paper. A round of soft groans went through the class, which all radiated the same message.

Obviously it was Zoya Nazyalensky who got top marks.

A self-satisfied smirk spread over Zoya’s features. She was good at everything, and she knew it. Every test? She aced. Every teacher? Loved her. First bench? Every class. Her academic reputation was unbreakable.

Or so she thought.

“Now that you’ve all received your tests, I think it’s time for me to introduce a new student to all of you. She’s just moved here from Kerch, and all this is rather new to her, so do be nice,” the teacher smiled and called someone in from outside. “Miss Brekker, do introduce yourself.”

A girl with h/c hair and lovely e/c eyes stepped gracefully into the classroom. She radiated a certain quietness which felt dangerous and calming at the same time, and it made Zoya a tad suspicious. However, that feeling seemed to vanish the very second the girl’s lips quirked up into a small smile as she shyly waved to the class.

“Miss Brekker, do introduce yourself,” smiled the teacher, sitting down.

She’s nervous, Zoya thought. Of course she is, she’s bait in a school of sharks.

“Well, I’m Y/n Brekker,” said the girl in slightly broken Ravkan. “And I just came here from Kerch, as Miss Reznik so kindly pointed out. I came here with the rest of my family, actually, and it is lovely to be here.”

The class clapped politely, and Y/n looked down, making her way to the closest seat.

The seat right beside Zoya.

A collective murmur spread through the class again, as they marvelled at the new girl’s choice to sit next to the teacher’s pet. And in the first row. It wasn’t like she had any choice, really, there was only one seat left in the class.

As Miss Reznik started class, Zoya couldn’t help but notice how the new girl sat attentively, listening to every word the teacher was saying. It was unusual for a quiet kid to sit on the first bench, and pay attention.

Miss Reznik started reading out the first few stanzas of a stupidly long Shu poem, one which the syllabus had included earlier that year.

“The garden is beautiful, with its flowers in neat rows, with each shrub trimmed, it worries little of the world outside, which is hidden by walls high and of stone.

The blackbird perches every day, on a big green tree, singing songs of love, loss, and tragedy.

The garden wilts, it’s walls start to crumble, the shrubs grow wild, as the weeds sprout beneath the carefully made path, the cracks growing larger as days and nights dance along.”

“Now, in this complex Shu poem, who can tell me what the basic idea of this stanza is?” Asked the teacher.

Before Zoya’s hand could shoot up, yours was already in the air.

Honestly, before you, Kaz, and the others had fled Kerch, you brushed up on every last bit of your studies, which included every single meaning of every Shu poem to exist.

Which was mainly a summer project you started with your closest friend, Nina. She had come to stay at the Slat with your brother and the rest after she came all the way from Ravka, so she knew what she was doing by taking that project up with you.

“Well, with reference to the garden, it symbolises beauty which has been held back from the world, made to be perfect by an experienced hand, even though it’s supposed to run free,” you said, in the same tone which Zoya used when she knew more than the class.

It infuriated her to no end.

“Well done” smiled the teacher. “I think you might have some competition, Zoya.”

Zoya smiled, but it was more of a grimace, as her hand clenched itself into a fist, her knuckles going white beneath the desk. She didn’t know you much, but she knew she hated competition. You were competition.

Naturally, she hated you.

Oblivious to the silent anger radiating off Zoya, you continued answering everything before she could, unknowingly infuriating her further with each passing moment.

The shrill sound of the bell made her anger cease, though she watched you through eyes narrowed in annoyance, as you exited the class.

She followed you out, and leaned a row of lockers as you high-fived a plump, rosy-cheeked girl with curly hair, and hugged a girl with deep brown skin and clever dark eyes, whose hair was done in a tight braid till her hips.

She decided she’d play a small game with you.

She sauntered over to you and the other two girls with a pleasant smile on her face, masking her cunning thoughts perfectly.

“Y/n Brekker, wasn’t it?” She asked, tapping you on the shoulder.

You turned around, and smiled slightly at her, replying, “Yes, indeed. Zoya, was it?”

She extended a hand for you to shake. “Zoya Nazyalensky. Lovely to meet you.”

You took her hand and shook it firmly, the way your brother had taught you, your e/c eyes fixed on hers, irises unmoving. Truth be told, Zoya didn’t know wether to be intimidated or turned on.

Little bit of both, maybe?

Focus, Zoya. She chided herself.

“Who are these two?” She asked, looking at your two other friends over your shoulder.

“Inej Ghafa,” said the dark-eyed girl with a curt nod. “Pleasure.”

“Nina Zenik,” smiled the rosy-cheeked girl, “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“I’d suggest you stay careful of who you decide to make your enemies, Y/n,” said Zoya slyly. “Just so you know.“

Confused, you smiled an upside-down smile, replying awkwardly, “Okay, then…thanks?”

She winked at you and turned around, waving her hand over her shoulder to bid you goodbye.

You were too confused for processing her statement, and you definitely knew you had a thing for that wink. It was a cocky wink, one which conveyed she was self-confident and she knew it.

“I need Kaz,” you said, running a hand through your hair, eyes widening as you turned your gaze to the floor.

Zoya was unpleasant and you knew it. She had this passive aggressiveness which you’d detected the second you walked into class. She was cocky in a way which pissed you off, and now you identified her as competition.

Just like her, you hated competition. And Zoya was competition.

And you didn’t like to lose.

———

Summary: Zoya admits she's extremely touch-starved.

Zoya Nazyalesky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some mentions of stress and some crying because of it-

---

Whenever Zoya looked at you, she felt her heart physically beat faster. Her body tingled and she desperately wanted your touch to grace her skin.

Obviously she would rather die than admit to being touch-starved.

Naturally, when she saw you combing out your hair in the morning after a particularly interesting night, she got the sudden urge to brush it for you.

And that is exactly what she did.

"Well, good morning," you chuckled as she grabbed the hairbrush from you and began brushing your hair out.

"Good morning, my darling," she smiled, basking in the feeling of your soft hair between her fingers. Her heart leapt when you leaned into her touch, and blushed a vibrant red when you took her free hand to kiss the palm of it.

You noticed her whole body shiver, and immediately knew what it was which had her reacting to your touch that way.

"Touch-starved, are we, darling?" You smirked, standing up and putting the brush away.

Shit, she thought. Was it so obvious?

"N-no-" She stammered, stalking off to the bathroom. Deciding to tease her, you leaned against the doorway and watched her pull her clothes off, still blushing.

"Is the cold, distant, frightening General Nazyalensky...touch-starved?" You giggled, soundlessly coming up behind her and running your fingertips down her bare back.

She shuddered and blushed even harder, to the point where even the tips of her ears turned pink. "Stop bullying me," she gently swatted your hands away, albeit reluctantly.

You put your hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, no need to get violent, my dear."

She threw a towel at you and mumbled, "Get out and stop teasing me."

"Okay," you giggled and left her to her own devices.

Later, you were walking down the hallway, books in hand, as you headed towards the library, when you felt someone gently loop their arm through yours. A smile spread over your face as you looked at Zoya, who walked forward with just as much confidence as she did when she wasn’t with you.

“Give me your satchel,” she said. “I’ll hold it for you. Those books look heavy enough already.”

“Thanks,” you blushed and handed her your brown satchel, inside which you’d put some notebooks you had to complete.

She pressed a quick kiss to your lips and continued walking with you to the library, quietly listening to what you had to say about the assignments you had pending and how much of a bore they were.

“How come you accompanied me to the library?” You asked. “I thought we had different things to do this evening.”

She shrugged and sat at one of the long tables behind you as you began putting away the books you’d issued, and began thumbing through the books you’d placed down on the table. “I just wanted to be with my girl,” she replied.

“Ah,” you smiled and placed another stack of books on the table to go with your first one. You slid into the seat beside her and opened out one book on astronomy and pulled your astronomy notebook. Zoya watched you closely as you picked the pages you wanted, and began to note down the important points from them.

Wordlessly, she put her head down and pulled your non-dominant hand to rest on her head. Realising what she wanted, you laughed softly and began to play with her hair, while you simultaneously wrote with your dominant hand.

Zoya had honestly never felt more fuzzy inside than she did at that moment, sitting in the silence of the library with you, her head resting on her arms while you ran your fingers through her hair, gently scratching her scalp in the places you knew she liked, all while you did your own work, as if this were a perfectly normal occurrence.

She couldn’t help but stare in awe at how the golden light of the setting sun filtered through the long windows and fell on your features so perfectly, highlighting your hair in a soft glow, and accentuating every curve of your face. The silence of the library made this moment even more special, as she saw all the reasons why she loved you so much all in just one moment of golden light and gentle touch.

“You can sit closer to me, if you want,” you said, looking at her with the same love in your eyes as you did when she’d first said ‘I love you’ to you.

She smiled and shifted closer so that her leg was touching yours, and she very hesitantly moved your hand from her hair and held it in her own, her head still resting on her crossed arms. She brushed a kiss across your knuckles very gently every now and then, giving you the same butterflies you’d been giving her.

While she saw you working, she additionally realised that she had been feeling stressed lately, and had been meaning to tell you about it. She knew you’d understand, and trusted you enough with her emotions to feel comfortable enough to share them.

“Y/n?” She whispered, catching your attention. You immediately put your pen down and looked at her, putting your other hand to her cheek, stroking the skin of it with your thumb.

“Yes, my love?” You asked. Seeing her troubled expression, your eyebrows knitted together with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Um…” she hesitated again. Did she want to ruin this perfectly blissful moment with her struggles? Did she truly want to burden you with her problems?

As if you’d read her mind, you gestured for her to sit up, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering, “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

She nodded, feeling her heart rate speed up at the soft brush of your lips over her skin, and said, “I’ve been feeling a bit stressed lately, because of training and all the schoolwork I have piling up thanks to my late-night training sessions…”

“Zoya…” your voice was soft as you spoke her name, in a way she’d heard countless times before, yet it never failed to make her fall more in love with you. It was the way you savoured each syllable, the way your tone stayed gentle, that made how you said her name so special to her.

“Come here,” you said. It wasn’t a demand, just a suggestion. A way to beckon her towards you. She sat on your lap, facing you, her eyes searching yours for any hint of what you might say next.

You said nothing. Instead, you pulled her into a hug, a hug you knew she needed. The warmth and sincerity of the gesture was what made her walls break, and she allowed her self to cry just a little, with only a few tears dropping down her cheeks and onto the silk of your kefta.

“I don’t want you to think that you’re someone who needs to do everything otherwise your worth reduces,” you said, reading her mind. “You are no object; whose worth is dependent on the things you do. You are human, you are whole, you’re worth everything good in the world, regardless of whether or not you can balance a hundred and one things every day.”

“I hate how you always know what I’m thinking,” she sniffled, burying her face in your hair. “And how you always know exactly what to say.”

“Darling, I know you inside and out,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to the side of her head. “I’m always here for you.”

She slid off your lap reluctantly and held your non-dominant hand, resting her head on your shoulder, saying, “You should finish your work.”

“Right,” you giggled. “My touch-starved sweetheart,” you added, squeezing her hand.

“First of all, you are so cheesy,” she scoffed. “And second, I am not touch starved.”

“Whatever you say,” you shrugged and continued your work, while she stayed right beside you, always finding a way to feel your embrace against hers.

Maybe she was a little touch-starved…

———

Summary: Nina forces you to come to a ball with her, and soon finds out why you didn’t want to be there in the first place.

Nina Zenik x fem!Kostyk!Reader

Warnings: Stressful social setting

Note: In this, pretend Nina never went to Fjerda in KoS. This is a little before those events, but definitely after Nikolai renounced his title as Sturmhond. And you’re a Durast, just so you know. And slightly neurodivergent. Very slightly.

———

You were quietly minding your own business at the Little Palace, helping some younger Fabrikators with their abilities. Your teacher had assigned them to you earlier that week, knowing you could help them as much as possible, with your never-ending patience and calming demeanour.

All of a sudden, Nina burst into the room, frightening you and one of the other children, who accidentally threw the metal ball he was practising with at you with his power.

“Saints alive-“ you wheezed, holding your side where the object had collided with you. “Um- why don’t you go there in the corner and practise hand movements, hm?”

“Sorry, Y/n…” the boy said sheepishly. You smiled and patted his head before he ran off to join his friends on the other side of the room.

“Nina,” you breathed out, looking at her practically vibrating with excitement. “What was so important that you had to burst in so…loudly?”

She was clutching a letter in her hands and squealed, “Nikolai’s planned a ball for absolutely no reason!”

“Lovely for you,” you smiled and kissed her forehead. “Forgive my asking, but…what does that have to do with me?”

“He’s invited you, me, Tamar, Nadia, Zoya, and the others, so you have got to come with me!” She giggled.

Your heart dropped to your knees at the very thought of going to a ball, where people danced expertly, knew how to woo a lady, and definitely didn’t step on their partner’s toes while waltzing.

“Um…my love, may we discuss this a little later?” You asked, looking around the room, any where but at her.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” you smiled. “It’s all good, just…I need to think it over.”

“Lovely!” She clapped her hands joyfully and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, which was punctuated by a dragged out ‘ew’ from the children.

Nina laughed and nodded, mouthing, ‘I should go,’ before squeezing your hand and going out.

Later that evening, you were, again, minding your own business after having returned to the royal palace, when she burst in yet again, making you almost upset your ink bottle over the paper you were writing on.

“My-my dear, if you could just knock before entering it would be far better-“ you laughed nervously, pushing your chair back as she planted herself on your lap. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, and you leaned up, kissing her cheek before smiling.

“Did you think it over?” She asked, leaning into your touch as you rested your cheek against the back of her shoulder.

You sighed, “I did, and I don’t- I don’t think I want to go…”

“Why not?” She asked, and you could practically hear her pout. “It’s a lovely evening to go for! There’s dancing, there’s music, there’s food…”

“Um…I think we can get that at any posh place in the city,” you admitted. “I just…I don’t want to go.”

“But darling, please,” she whined, turning so that her lower back rested against the edge of your table. Her arms looped around your neck as her soft green eyes met your e/c ones. “I really want to go with you! It’s been ages since we last went to an event together!”

You sighed and gave in, “Alright, but I will not dance.”

She gasped, “But why?!”

“I draw the line at dancing, my dear,” you said. “Please let it be enough that I agree to go.”

She decided not to press the matter further, and smiled brightly, her eyes grinning and her entire face lighting up. “I love you,” she said, before leaning down to kiss your lips gently.

“And I, you,” you said softly, smiling against her lips.

—Time Skip—

The day of the ball came faster than expected, and you were a nervous wreck as you and the others got ready for the festivities.

“What’s got you all jittery, Y/n?” Zoya asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm.”

“Zoya, have you met Y/n?” Nadia laughed. “She’s like her brother, she hates social gatherings like these.”

“So she’s a little baby,” Tamar joked, poking you in the side playfully.

“Don’t be mean, now,” Genya chided them all as she tailored her hair a little redder. “Y/n just finds them mildly uncomfortable. As does David.”

“No, no, I agree with them,” you nodded, pulling on the jacket which went with your suit. “I hate social gatherings.”

“Nina, how is it that you fell in love with her?” Zoya laughed, braiding her hair so she could twist it into a bun. “She’s the exact opposite of you.”

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for the quiet ones,” Nina giggled, coming over and kissing your cheek. “Lace me up, would you darling?”

You were already fidgety, and thankfully, lacing up your girlfriend’s dress helped quite a bit. “I was bullied into attending,” you admitted, earning a laugh from all of them. Confusion shadowed over your face as you frowned a little, “Why is that funny?”

“It just is, N/n,” Tamar ruffled your hair, earning a disgruntled noise from you as you gently pushed her hand away.

“I will…um…check on the boys,” you nodded, “Yes, I’ll go check on them.”

You hurried out of the room before anyone could stop you, counting your steps as you went to Nikolai’s massive dressing room, knowing it was precisely 203 steps away from Zoya’s, where you had been a moment ago.

You entered after knocking, and sat down on a small chair right beside a mirror.

“We’re the girls teasing you again?” Nikolai chuckled as he put his white shirt on. “Or were you just coming to visit?”

“I don’t know what they were doing, actually,” you frowned. “But I do know I don’t want to go to the ball.”

“Then don’t go,” Tolya said as if it was he most obvious thing in the world as he combed his hair back. Ball or not, he was still dressing as sharply as a soldier.

“You see, as a fact, Nina does not really enjoy missing any social gathering,” you said. “And I, on the other hand, would rather die than go to one.”

Nikolai began to wear his tie and laughed, “Am I really such a nuisance for organising these gatherings that you would rather die than attend them?”

“No, I-“ you paused, analysing his statement. “Was that a joke?”

“Yes, Y/n, yes it was,” he grinned, also ruffling your hair.

“Why does everyone keep doing that?” You mumbled, fixing your hair again.

“I agree with my sister,” came your brother’s similarly quiet voice. “I cannot say I enjoy being at such big events.”

“I’d rather be building something,” you nodded, to which David made a noise of agreement.

“Well, I can’t say you can just disagree with what Nina and Genya have said,” Tolya shrugged. “I have seen the two of them. They almost exist only for gatherings.”

“Y/n, you’ve worn something far too drab, did the others say nothing about it?” Nikolai said, looking at you.

You looked at your plain black suit, neatly pressed and creaseless. “What’s wrong with this? It’s my best suit!”

“For a funeral, maybe,” Interjected Tolya.

“Now you both are bullying me,” you frowned.

Nikolai went to his closet and pulled out a suit which looked far richer than yours, which had a white shirt, white pants, and a coat which had gold buttons all the way down the front. A thick gold border went down the length of it, and to finish it with a slightly feminine look, a delicate, spidery pattern of lace was embroidered onto the cuffs.

“Go on and try it,” Nikolai suggested, giving you the hanger on which it was kept and pushing you towards the changing screen.

You went in and tried it on, it fitting perfectly. The thick, almost kefta-like material of the coat felt nice under your fidgety fingertips, and the soft silk fabric of the shirt was welcoming on your skin. You’d never felt more confident than you did then, standing in a King’s attire.

“Let’s see how it looks, my friend!” Called out Tolya. You emerged from behind the screen, feeling your confidence give a little way for some amount of shyness at the attention.

“Damn,” Nikolai said. “I’d say Nina is going to be very happy.”

“She does say she loves me in blue,” you admitted, your hands already fidgeting with the hem of the coat, feeling the slightly prickly gold border against your fingertips.

“If you like the suit, you can keep it,” Nikolai grinned. “You look absolutely stunning in it. I have to say, you pull it off better than I do.”

You caught your brother’s eye, and he hummed in acknowledgment, nodding his head slightly. You both, even as children, had almost always communicated like this. With subtle hand gestures, eye movements, and nods.

After a little while of chatting, Nikolai exhaled sharply as he dusted off his coat sleeves. “Right, I will be on my way down to welcome the guests.”

“Hooray…” you said, with little enthusiasm. “That was sarcasm, by the way.”

“Well done,” Tolya patted you on the back. “It’s practically impossible to tell.”

You frowned, “Actually, I was being rather obvious about it…”

The giant laughed and led you out, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Never change, Y/n.”

“Um, I’ll go find Nina,” you nodded and walked off.

When your girlfriend saw you in the suit, her jaw dropped. As did everyone else’s in the room.

“I love how you look in blue,” grinned Nina as she ran her hands down your shoulders to your waist.

You smiled slightly and whispered a thank you, blushing a bright red.

“Guys, it’s nearly eight o clock, the guests should be arriving now,” admitted Nadia as she looked at the clock on the wall. She looked at both you and Nina, adding, “Now stop making moon eyes at each other and get your backsides downstairs.”

You nodded as Nina took you by the hand, leading you downstairs, while the others followed suit.

“I’m nervous,” you said.

“Don’t be,” giggled Nina. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I hope that wasn’t a joke…” you mumbled.

The ballroom filled up pretty fast, with the soft music of the band floating through the crowd. Men danced with their ladies in graceful two-steps, otherwise they whirled around in a fast-paced foxtrot. You stood at the end of the dance floor, watching closely while Nina and Nadia danced together, laughing hysterically.

There were too many people, though. Your skin crawled at the sudden thickness of the air, and you couldn’t really process the whole situation entirely. Sounds mashed together, the scent of perfume was choking, and the hum of people talking was getting annoying.

You were immediately broken out of your little freak-out when Nina caught your hand.

“Why is my gorgeous girlfriend standing here, alone, not dancing?” She asked, leaning up to kiss your lips.

“I…” you shook your head and whispered, “I’m just tired.”

“Hm…” she hummed in thought, trying to figure out what was wrong. “Do you mind telling me why you don’t want to dance with me?”

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you quietly replied, “I don’t know how to dance…”

Her eyes lit up as she held your face in her hands, and a smile tugged at her lips as she chuckled, “Was that all? You could’ve asked me to teach you!”

“I didn’t know how to ask…” you replied sheepishly.

She pulled you onto the dance floor where fewer people were swaying together, and she said, “Put your hand on my waist and hold the other,”

You did just so, and she smiled before guiding you towards doing a box step. You marvelled at how lovely a teacher she was, focusing solely on her voice.

“One, two, three, four, five, six,” you muttered under your breath. Nina laughed and squeezed your hand with hers, trying not to wince when you stepped on her toes with your hard leather shoes.

As the evening ended, you both collapsed into bed, tired for different reasons after having changed int more comfortable attire.

“You stepped more on my feet than you did the floor,” she chuckled.

“I will have you know that I was on beat,” you said. “You had it coming.”

“Well…you weren’t bad,” she nodded. “I must admit.”

You pulled her atop you and hugged her close, whispering, “Thank you for teaching me,”

“No problem, my love,” Nina replied, kissing your cheek. “It’s been a long night…” she sighed, sinking further into your touch.

“We should get some sleep,” you replied, tracing shapes on her back with your fingertips.

So there you both lay together, seeing comfort in each others embrace as the night went by, with its dark blue sky speckled with stars, and the wind blowing silently through the trees in the garden below.

———

Summary: You get your first period.

Your age: 13

Taglist: @winstonthecow22 , @ell0ra-br3kk3r , @trashmouthsahra , @myheartfollower

Warnings: Pain, blood, cramps, periods in general.

---

You were sitting in your room at your desk, doing some homework, when suddenly, you felt a stabbing pain in your lower stomach. You drank some water and thought it would go away, but decided to go to the bathroom the second the pain didn't cease.

When you took off you pants and underwear, you saw that there was a massive stain of blood on the cotton fabric, and some of it was on your pants.

You panicked, and your anxiety mixed with the pain in your stomach made any rational reaction escape your mind.

So, you changed your pants and underwear before running down the stairs screaming bloody murder.

Kaz was immediately by your side, eyes blazing and hands gripping his cane tightly in a way which looked as if he was going to bludgeon someone with it.

"Who do I need to kill?" He asked, looking around, standing in front of you protectively.

"Papa..." you breathed shakily. "I'm bleeding from-from down there-"

He froze for a moment, and his eyes went a little wide before he coughed awkwardly, "Do you-do you need a blanket, little crow?"

You felt a sudden surge of irritation and snapped, "I don't need a blanket, I need a woman, Papa!"

Still a bit shocked and confused he replied, "I thought I said no dating till-" his brain finally put the pieces together and he hurried away, mumbling, "Wait, I'll get Nina or Inej..."

"Saints..." You sighed and went to find your uncle Jesper.

"Uncle Jes..." you groaned, falling atop him where he lay on the couch.

He wrapped his arms around you, kissed your head and mimicked your tone, "Little crow..."

You grumbled softly and buried your face in the crook of his neck, wailing, "My stomach hurts...and I'm bleeding...it's so annoying..."

He heard those words and immediately leapt up, placing you on the floor. "You got your period?" He asked with a small smile.

"I think so?" You shrugged.

"Alright, before anything, I want you to go change your underclothes and your pants, wash out the blood and put a bit of tissue on your underpants to stop the blood, okay?"

"I changed my pants, but how do I keep the blood away?" You asked as he followed you up to your room. "And how do you know all this?"

"I've had Inej and Nina spend enough nights at my house," he chuckled. "Plus, Kaz kind of gets a slight ick from all this."

You knew what he meant by 'this', and laughed softly, going into the bathroom, following your uncle's exact directions.

You retched when you saw the blood on your clothes, and even though you'd fought your fair share of people, this blood was a little more unnerving.

You had only just exited the washroom when Nina and Inej entered, both of them holding paper bags.

Inej handed you hers, inside of which was a packet holding something you didn't recognise.

"It's called a sanitary napkin, or a pad," said the Suli, as you pulled one out and inspected it. "You stick it onto your underwear and keep it on for about 6 hours and change it according to how much you're bleeding."

"...oh," you said, still staring at the pad like it was something with two heads.

"Go and put it on, then I'll give you the stuff in here," Nina chuckled, patting your head.

"Follow the directions on the box, little crow," Inej suggested. "I think it'll help."

You awkwardly nodded, and walked back into the bathroom, discarding the toilet paper and doing as you were told. There was no way in hell you were going to go against their instructions this time.

Once you came out, you leaned against Nina as you sat on your bed, asking both of them, "Am I going to die?"

They looked at each other in confusion for a moment, before they burst out laughing.

"No, no!" Inej grinned. "That blood isn't from all over your body, little crow. It's from your uterus, which is a little organ right here," she gently poked your lower stomach where it was hurting, "And it develops this layer once a month to prepare your body for having a baby, and once your body realises it has no baby, that layer sheds in the form of blood."

"Disgusting!" You made a face. "I'm thirteen, why would I be having a Saintsforsaken baby?! Can't I just get a letter from god or something? Like, 'Oh, by the way, you're not pregnant, just letting you know in a painless, bloodless way!'"

"That is reasonable, but when is anything fair on us, hm?" Nina laughed and put an arm around you. She reached into her paper bag and handed you a small bar of chocolate, saying, "Sweet things always make it better."

You gasped and thanked her, before devouring the chocolate hungrily.

"I understand Kaz wasn't much help, was he?" Inej asked, eyebrow raised.

"No," you shook your head, licking your fingers clean. "He just got bug-eyed and ran off to find you two."

"Yeah, he's a little icky about this," Nina chuckled. "I don't blame him, though. He's not a very...adjusting person. Periods bring about some serious mood swings, let me tell you."

"Oh. So that's why I've been wanting to throw something at almost every person I see for the last few days?" You asked.

"Maybe," shrugged the pair of them.

You heard someone knock on the door and called out, "Come in!"

You didn't even have to look up to realise it was Kaz. He kept his gaze on the ground, limping towards you in a way which genuinely made you want to laugh, because he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

He held a brown paper package out to you, and said, "I um, I didn't know what to do, so I went out and bought you a book."

You accepted it and leaned up to give him a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks, Papa," you chuckled. "It means a lot."

"Wylan's making dinner tonight, so if you want to come down and eat, you can. Or if you'd rather stay in bed, that's okay too, I don't--" He began rambling, something you'd never seen him do before unless Inej was looking particularly stunning.

"Papa," you stopped him. "I'll be down in a bit, relax. I'm not a ticking time bomb."

"Right," he nodded and patted your head quickly, before hurrying towards the door. "Let me know if you need anything, please."

Later that evening, they all 'celebrated' you getting your first period by getting extra ice-cream after dinner, a treat which you and Nina specially enjoyed.

That night, after dinner and at around 1 a.m, you got a particularly bad round of cramps which prevented you from sleeping. You tossed and turned in vain, trying to ease your discomfort.

You must've made a lot of noise, because a little while later, your father came into your room, looking tired but concerned.

"Little crow, all okay?" He asked, concerned.

You groaned and shook your head, clutching your stomach. "It hurts badly, Papa..."

He knew periods gave him the ick, but seeing you in pain overrode his discomfort. Immediately, he took you by the hand and led you to his room, guiding you onto the bed.

"Sit here, I'll get you a hot water bag. Inej told me to keep one aorund here..." He looked around in his drawers and produced one of the rubber bags. He hurried to the bathroom to get it set and ready, while you lay on his side of the bed, his familiar scent of cloves and lemon comforting you slightly.

He gently placed the hot water bag on your lower stomach after he returned from the bathroom. "I hope this helps," he said softly, and his body language conveyed clearly that he had barely any idea what he was doing.

"Can you cuddle me, papa?" You asked softly. It was a rare occasion for you to ask him outright to give you physical affection, so he obliged and lay beside you, opening his arms for you to nestle in.

He had, by now, managed to quell some amount of his aversion to skin-on-skin contact, but you always made sure to keep enough blanket between you both so he could hug you but not touch your sin directly.

"Goodnight, my little crow," he whispered, gently kissing the top of your head. Another thing he rarely did.

"I'm not little anymore," you giggled, your words muffled against his nightshirt.

"You'll always be little for me," he replied. "Now go to sleep, or you'll be very irritated in the morning."

So you agreed and fell asleep, while Kaz kept you safely in his embrace.

---

Summary: What started as a good day goes south to the point where you display "concerning" behavious on the playground, which leads your principal to call your parents to school.

Your age: 10

Six of Crows x fem!child!reader

Note: Pretend Pekka still lives in Ketterdam, and never moved far far away.

Taglist: @winstonthecow22 , @ell0ra-br3kk3r , @trashmouthsahra , @myheartfollower

Warnings: Blood, mentions of sharp objects, prejudices, fighting, yelling, arguments

---

You sat at the breakfast table with Wylan, who was helping you with your math homework a little bit last-minute. While he taught you how to multiply decimals, you wolfed down your toast and eggs which Nina made for you.

"So, you think of the times tables while you do these, okay?" Wylan explained, when Kaz emerged out of nowhere.

"Come on, little crow," he said. "Or you'll be late."

You hastily put your math in your bag, gave Wylan a big hug and a 'thank you', before bidding everyone goodbye and following your father out.

"Papa, guess what?" You asked excitedly while he sat in the carriage beside you.

"What, little crow?" He asked, not bothering to feign any interest as you both stepped out of the carriage, with him holding your hand as you crossed the street.

"I might get top marks in my tests this week!" You grinned. "Uncle Wylan helped me with my Math and a bit of Science, and Auntie Nej did Social Studies with me, and Auntie Nina did the rest of Science! I'm super confident in class and no one, not even Sofiya Reznik could answer the questions the teacher asked us!"

"Reznik is the girl who's father is a professor, isn't it?" He asked. "I'm proud of you, Y/n."

"I need to go now, Papa," you said, nodding at his hand which was clutching yours tightly.

"Alright," he sighed. "But remember: never start a fight, always be the one to finish it, and please stay far away from Alby Rollins. I don't need Pekka breathing down my neck if you hurt the boy."

"I'm making no promises," you grinned and leaned against his side a little. "I've got this."

"Have a good day, little crow," he smiled slightly, letting go of you. Excited, you skipped in past the gates, running to greet your friends.

Kaz's skin prickled as he saw the children bustling about in the schoolyard. Almost all of them were mercher's children, and he knew they lived on the far richer side of Ketterdam.

Shaking off the feeling, he walked away, back into the carriage.

Your day commenced as it normally would. However, recess was the one part which caused your happy mood to sour.

You ran with everyone else on the playground, laughing as you all played tag. You'd been tagged, and chased relentlessly after a random kid from the other fourth-grade class.

You clapped him on his back and turned around swiftly, but you slammed bodily into Alby Rollins, Pekka Rollins' spoiled, rotten little boy.

"Sorry about that, Rollins!" You apologised hastily and tried swerving around him.

He shoved your shoulder and scowled, "Watch where you're going, Barrel trash."

You'd been called many names before, but that particular one struck your dignity hard.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as your e/c eyes blazed. "You take that back, Rollins."

He hit you on the shoulder, "Or what, slum rat?"

You noticed a sharp rock at your feet and picked it up, baring it at him. "Or I'll cut you."

His piggy eyes went wide, but he still held himself confidently. He kicked you on the back of your knees, causing you to tumble down onto the dusty ground. The stone in your hand cut a deep gash across your palm, but you didn't care.

"You'll cut me?" He scoffed, kicking you in the ribs. "You'll cut me? I don't think so, scum. Don't even belong here with us non-slum dwellers, do you?"

"I belong here just as you all do," you spat, trying to stand up, but he kicked you hard in the ribs again. You wheezed and collapsed again, arm clutching your abdomen.

"Think you're equal 'cause your Da owns a club?" He scoffed. "Kaz Brekker don't got nothing on Pekka Rollins."

But before he could even draw his leg back for another kick, you regained your posture and swung a fist at his nose with as much strength as your 10-year-old body would allow.

An audible 'crack' came from where your fist connected with his face, and he clutched at his jaw which you'd hit. The hit was cushioned by his round cheeks, but you weren't any older than him nor were your knuckles conditioned enough to handle a direct hit, and your fist pulsed with pain.

"You filthy Barrel rat!" He screamed, and knocked you down as he tackled you, his pudgy body weighing your down significantly. He threw punch after punch at your face and body, while you tried freeing your arms pinned under his knees. Around you, kids chanted 'fight, fight, fight!'

Of course no one was going to help. Your face was bleeding, and you could barely feel it anymore as he beat you bruised and bloody. Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded for him to stop. He didn't cease his relentless hitting, and no one dared touch Pekka Rollins' son anyway, so why would they attempt to now? You prayed desperately that someone went to get a teacher, and ignored every single insult he hurled your way. Regardless, a white-hot anger coursed through you, making you struggle harder.

You got an arm free from under him and caught his collar, before pulling him to the side hard enough to get him off one side of you. Wiggling out, you wiped a hand across your mouth for it to come down red with blood. Angry like a bull, you charged at him, fists swinging at his pudgy body as you hit and kicked every place you could reach. The other kids tried holding you back, but nothing would stop you from taking revenge for all he did to you.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL THIS?" Exclaimed a teacher. Beside her stood Sofiya Reznik, looking worried for you.

"Miss!" Wailed Alby pathetically while you wiped the steadily drying blood from your knuckles. Dragging your sleeve over your face, you wiped off whatever blood you could, and had only just been able to think rationally and clearly, when another teacher seized you by the elbow and dragged you inside. It gave you some satisfaction to see that Alby was also being dragged with you equally harshly. Clearly these teachers weren't scared of Rollins the way the others were.

"I need some context on what happened," sighed the teacher who'd grabbed you, while you sat on a cot in the nurse's office, Alby opposite to you and mewling pathetically to the nurse and teacher.

You allowed the young man to start dabbing away at the blood on your face and replied, "He called me Barrel trash just because I bumped into him, accidentally. I apologised, but then he had to escalate it."

"...and then the shameless Barrel girl punched me!" You heard Alby bleat, while the nurse and teacher looked thoroughly done with is antics.

"It's on him cause he started it," you sighed, holding an ice pack to your eye, which was starting to bruise over. "He shouldn't have hit me."

"I didn't lay a hand on you!" He protested, but the teachers saw right through him.

"Silence, shevrati," you snapped, using the Suli insult you often heard Inej say. "That's what you are, anyway. A know-nothing."

"Kids, enough," the second teacher intervened. She glared at Alby, "And quit your incessant bleating, you've just got a bruised eye. A well-deserved one at that."

"How can you believe that-that slum rat over me?" He gaped.

"None of that, boy," scowled the male teacher. "Come on now, both of you, to the Principal. Goodness, the things you all do..."

You sat quietly outside the office, waiting, and heard the sound of branded leather boots against the tiles of the floor. You looked up to see Pekka Rollins hurry over to his son, and heard his angrily muttered insults towards you.

"Atleast now I know where he learned it all," you scoffed, looking at the man.

"Y/n?" A serious and familiar voice made you look up, and immediately your heart dropped to your worn-out shoes. Kaz was there with your Aunt Inej, Nina, Jesper and Wylan, and all of them looked beyond pissed.

"Hi..." you awkwardly said, holding up a hand to wave at them. However, it took you a moment to realise that their anger istelf wasn't directed towards you. Kaz was glaring past you and at Pekka, who was comforting his crying child.

"Not this stuff again," you grumbled and flicked Alby on the ear. "I didn't even break anything, so quit your bleating."

"Don't you even--" Pekka began, but was interrupted by the secretary.

"Um...are you Y/n's family?" She asked, peeking out of the office. Kaz and the rest of the crows nodded, and she said, "I need the father to come in, please."

"That would be something you don't want to do," Nina interjected. "Unless you want another fistfight on your hands."

She looked defeated, and replied, "Just- just decide amongst yourselves who is to come in."

They all looked at each other, and you facepalmed. You did regret it immediately, though, as your eye throbbed thanks to the bruise on it.

“Please, honestly, we just really need the fathers here,” said the young woman. Seeing their incredulous glares, she added, “I don’t make the rules.”

You tentatively gave Kaz a quick hug, before running back to the chair you'd sat in. He looked at you in a way that made your skin prickle with unhappiness

“Little crow…” Nina sighed, shaking her head. “You’re just like Kaz. Can’t back down from a fight.”

“Hey, he started it!” You scoffed, glaring at Alby, who stuck his tongue out at you.

You suddenly heard raised voices inside the office and shrank back against your seat, looking a little afraid. You’d never heard Kaz raise his voice like that, atleast not in front of you. To be honest, it terrified you to imagine your normally calm father standing there in front of Rollins, his eyes blazing and gripping his cane hard.

“Little crow, you’ve got a bruised rib!” Gasped Nina. “How did this happen?”

“He kicked me," you mumbled, pointing at Alby. The boy glared at you again, and you heard him scoff something which sounded like 'tattletale'.

Jesper knelt in front of you while Nina attempted to heal your bruised rib, and asked, "Did you win, little crow?"

You grinned and nodded, "Yeah, I did."

Wylan immediately smacked his boyfriend upside the head and scowled, "Jesper Llewellyn Fahey, we will not encourage this behaviour," he looked at you and sighed, "Y/n, I'm really disappointed in your decision today. Why did you hit back?"

"Because he--OW!" You exclaimed as Nina made a sharp turn of her wrists, fixing the rib which you'd bruised. "Auntie Nina, that hurt!" You glared at her.

"Listen to your Uncle, little crow," she frowned. "He's right. You shouldn't have hit back."

"He called me barrel trash. Why am I in the wrong here? Besides, I had apologised for bumping into him, and he just had to insult me." You scoffed at them all. "Papa would've understood."

"My little crow," Jesper spoke after a long time, startling you. "If someone decides to stoop that low, you have to control your own emotions and walk away."

"You guys fight people on a daily basis," you grumbled. "It's quite hypocritical for you to say that."

You were honestly livid with their behaviour, thinking they'd support your decision, but the more they spoke, the more you wanted to throw and break something.

You slouched in your chair and noticed Alby sticking his tongue out at you, as the crows looked at each other, their telepathic adult conversation going back and forth.

The secretary came in and gestured for you and Alby, saying, "Kids, the Principal wants to see you."

You stood up and glared at the rest of your family, who simply looked back at you the way grown-ups do when they want to make a point. You had no idea why they were against you on this, and felt another surge of anger go through you at their expressions.

Inside the office, you sat quietly next to Kaz, who was seething with anger. His rage wafted off him in waves, which made you scoot your chair as far away from him as you could. His eyes blazed with fury as he looked at Pekka, who held his son's shoulder as the boy sat down.

"Children," the Principal said gently, looking at the two of you. "Could you care to explain exactly what happened? Let's start with you, Y/n, dear."

You tried not to cringe at her tone. She spoke as if you both were in kindergarten.

"Well," you said, thoroughly tired of having to narrate the story over and over. "I was playing tag with my friends and I didn't hear Rollins behind me, so I bumped into him by accident. Naturally, I apologised, but he just had to hit me and call me 'barrel trash' and continued to bully me about my background, and he got physical, so I responded in self-defense."

“See, Mr. Rollins, I suggest you try to control the language you use around your child,” sighed the Principal, looking at the man.

“Yes,” said Kaz, his voice stone cold. “Preferably teach him not to mess with her.”

“Keep that mouth of yours shut, Brekker,” growled Pekka. “My son would never say such things! He doesn’t do it at home, why would he do it outside?”

“I can call one of our students in to confirm, if you’d like, Mr. Rollins,” the principal replied pointedly. She hated it when fathers excused their sons behaviour when they were so obviously in the wrong.

You glared at Alby, “Confess else I’ll do more than just bruise your eye. We both know what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he scoffed. “She pushed me and just began hitting when I asked her to watch where she was going.”

“That’s a lie!” You shouted. Kaz rested the tip of his cane on your shoulder to warn you not to get up, for he noticed you tensing to hit again.

“We are dishing out a week-long suspension to you, Alby Rollins,” said the Principal, writing him a slip. “For starting a fight, greviously injuring another student, and for name-calling as well as bullying on the basis of their background.”

“You can’t do that!” Gasped Pekka.

“I run this school, Rollins,” said the woman, handing him a signed slip. “I do what I want. And I want to ensure your son doesn’t repeat this concerning behaviour again, because if he does, then he certainly will not have any place here.”

“Looks like you’ve lost this fight, Rollins.” Your father smirked at him.

“As for you, Y/n Brekker, I’ll be giving you a two-day suspension for retaliating instead of telling a teacher. Physical fights are not tolerated here. Please go to an adult the next time someone does something like this,” she wrote you a slip as well and handed it to your father, who looked at you angrily. It made you shrink in your seat, and you hastily avoided eye contact.

You exited the office with Kaz, your eyes trained on the floor. You didn't want to meet the furious eyes of your family members, and knew no one would really sympathise with you.

The carriage ride, too, was spent in silence, with Kaz glaring at you, his breath coming out in barely controlled huffs, while Jesper made futile attempts to lighten things up.

Back home, you waited for your father to start yelling. And he did.

"Why would you take a challenge with Pekka's son, when I specifically told you not to?!" Kaz bellowed, livid.

"H-he started it..." you said in a small voice, eyes fixated on the floor, while the other crows settled around the living room. You knew you had messed up, but did it really warrant this reaction?

Your father scoffed, his hands gripping his cane tightly. "Does that mean you will fight back? How many times must I tell you? Never interact with a Rollins!"

"But...but he called me Barrel trash and so many more names..." you replied in the same voice, not wanting to move at all, but at the same time, your whole body trembled as your defense mechanism to run kicked in.

"So you hit him?!" This time it was Wylan who spoke up.

"He hit me first!" You exclaimed, sick of being told that statement.

"And you hit back?!" Nina interjected. You met your aunt's green eyes which held an anger you had never seen before, and it terrified you. "Come on, Y/n!"

"But--but--" You stuttered, however, no one wanted to listen.

"Y/n," said Kaz, his eyes on you. "Why did you have to react? Do you realise how far this has escalated?"

"N-no..." you replied. And you actually didn't. From the time you'd started going to the local school, Kaz always told you to stay away from Alby, but he never told you why. You knew he had a feud with Pekka, so what did that possibly have to do with you?

"What part of stay away from Alby Rollins was unclear?" Kaz seethed, his body tense and taut as a bow string, while his grip on the cane increased drastically.

"He bruised my ribs," you choked out, finally gathering some courage. "He kicked me, insulted me, insulted you, made me look like an idiot in front of my entire school, and you wonder why I hit him back?"

Kaz took a step towards you, but you flinched away, afraid. A look of shock passed over all their faces at your reaction, and Kaz looked hurt.

"Why can't you just understand?" You sniffled and ran up the stairs to your room, slamming the door shut and curling up on your bed to cry softly. Your eye still hurt, as did your ribs, and everything Alby said echoed in your mind.

A soft voice came from outside the door, in a language which was gentle on your ears.

"Little crow?" Inej asked, her voice muffled through the wood of the doorway, speaking in clear Suli. "Can we talk?"

"No," you scowled, replying in Suli. "Go away."

"I'm on your side, my crow," she said gently. "But please, talk to me."

You sighed and opened the door, letting her in.

She came inside and sat on your bed, beckoning you to sit beside her. By force of habit, you did so and laid your head in her lap while her calloused hands stroked your hair comfortingly.

"Why can't any of them just understand?" You said, tears welling up in your eyes again. “I didn’t hit him just because I wanted to, I just was trying to defend myself…”

“I know, my little crow,” she said, “their reaction was way too uncalled for, but you see, your father just wants to protect you. Kaz and Pekka have had this feud going since a while now, and he just doesn’t want things to escalate. It might warrant your involvement, and he definitely doesn’t want that.”

You exhaled deeply and looked up at her. “I shouldn’t have hit him that bad, I know. I just—I felt so disrespected and so…pathetic…I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Look,” she said, “People will say what they want. As a female, and as someone from a slightly less privileged background compared to others, you’re bound to face this. People with closed mindset’s will treat you this way, and you have to develop a thicker skin as much as they have to recalibrate their way of thinking.”

“I think Ill go apologise to Papa, then…and to Auntie Nina. And Uncle Jesper and Wylan…” you trailed off. “I love you, Auntie Nej.”

“And I, you, my little crow.” She grinned and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your head.

You walked downstairs again with her and stood in front of the crows, who were assembled on the couch. You inhaled deeply and said, “I’m sorry for reacting like that. I know it was wrong of me to hit Alby, and Ill work on my temper a lot more from now on.”

“I’m sorry too, little crow,” replied Kaz. “I am aware that you don’t know what goes on amongst the adults and it was definitely wrong of me to assume you could figure it out.”

You nodded and went over to him, giving him a big hug, whispering, “It’s okay, Papa,” in his ear. The rest of the crows fell atop you two in a group hug, with both Nina and Jesper crying.

“So…as a way to shake off the horribleness of today…” Nina suggested when you all collected yourselves, “Why don’t we all go to the Kooperom for tea?”

“I could use a good plate of pie, to be honest,” said Jesper.

“Same,” you grinned, turning around in Kaz’s lap.

“Alright, grab your coats and let’s go,” smiled Inej, doing exactly that.

So, you all let go of your old anger and enjoyed together, laughing over plates of waffles and cups of tea till the sun began to set and the clouds turned grey with the onset of night…

———