rosemary | grishaverse oneshots

Jesper | Fire

"So the next mission is at Ivan's House?" Jesper started, not at all suspiciously.

Kaz hardly looked up from the papers in front of him. "Yes."

"The one with all the Infernis?" He prodded.

"Yes," Kaz's reply was sharper than before.

Nina, who was watching from the corner, looked very amused at where this was going.

"You know how you're always asking for suggestions? Because you're such a great leader and you value the team's opinion?" Jesper asked warmly.

"I don't."

"Right, so my tiny little suggestion is, how about we — uh, don't do this mission?"

"Why?" Nina asked, smiling. She knew the reason but hearing it aloud made everything so much better. "Because of a certain Y/N maybe?"

"No!" Jesper was quick to answer. "How is this connected to them?"

"Y/N hates fire," Kaz said, sounding bored. "We all know that."

"Okay fine," the sharpshooter sat down before him. "So please? Call this whole thing off. Or ask Y/N not to come."

"We need all the help we can get. Besides, I thought you hated Y/N."

"I hate blueberry sandwiches too, but I still vote for them on camping."

"That's because it's Y/N's favorite," Nina said unhelpfully.

"Can you stop implying I'm in love with that devil-spawn?" He snapped.

"Oh please, you have heart eyes anytime they're around!"

"I so do not! You know what, fine! It's okay, let's just pretend like this meeting never happened!" Jesper said, frustrated.

He left the room grumpily and Nina's sudden cough resembled something like the word "simp."

——————

The heist did, in fact, go wrong. Jesper was supposed to keep watch, but seeing Y/N sneak into the wrong room gave him an obligation to rush after them.

Well, a reason to rush after them.

He yelled for you to stop but you were already inside, which just so happened to be the venue of a meeting. (Most of them were Infernis as your luck would have it.)

Seeing their keftas, you gulped and murmured something about the wrong room, but the door closed on its own.

On the other side, Jesper made an annoyed grunt and knocked furiously, but the metal door stayed closed.

Inside, you were panicking.

"Who are you?" someone asked, stepping forwards. You gritted your teeth and faced them, determined to get out of there alive.

"Just a servant, sir," you said, your eyes on the ground.

"They're with that Ketterdam scum, I've seen their face on photos," another person informed.

You reluctantly looked up.

Standing before you were roughly 15 people, and most of them had on their fingertips what you feared the most.

Fire.

——————

The next day, you were still under Nina's supervision. Technically, Jesper was the one who was with you 24/7, but he only talked when he wanted to yell at you.

"Ridiculous stunt," he kept muttering under his breath.

"What else was I supposed to?" You sat up on the bed, wincing as your knife wound became alive. Putting one hand over it, you stared at Jesper, waiting for an answer.

"Anything other than throw yourself to the one who goddamn stabbed you!"

"I was in a locked room!"

"Then you should have fought!"

"I did, but—" you gulped, remembering the orange flames. "Fire."

He sighed. You were almost embarrassed to admit it, but he seemed like he knew of your pyrophobia already.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said, coming to your bed and sitting down.

"Thank you," you whispered, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze. "I know I'm impulsive and possibly idiotic, but I appreciate you caring."

"I'll always care," he said, his eyes gleaming.

In that second, you were tired and in pain, but you looked at him with something close to adoration. He felt the breath being knocked out of him and thought you were as lovely as sunrise.

You leaned into his shoulder, and though he didn't protest, he did freeze. As seconds passed, he seemed more and more giddy at your gesture. He finally rested his head over yours.

He thought he should tell you how he's been in love with you for a while, but that moment didn't need a confession to make it perfect.

Sometimes a lean on the shoulder and warm hands told the story more than words ever could.