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#grishaverse nikolai imagines
heliads · 3 months
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because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!
'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov
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There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.
Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.
And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.
That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.
You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.
Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now:  curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.
You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.
And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.
Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.
You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream:  the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.
You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–
He was a prince.
Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.
The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.
Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.
You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.
The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.
So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.
No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed. 
A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.
You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?
It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.
However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.
“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.
She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”
She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”
The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.
You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens:  you feel better.
You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”
“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”
You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?
The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.
Almost.
The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.
The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.
Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.
Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”
You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.
It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.
You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.
The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.
Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.
Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.
Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.
You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.
“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.
Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.
You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.
“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.
Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”
A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”
“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”
“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.
“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”
You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.
“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”
This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”
The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”
He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”
You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”
Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”
You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”
Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”
You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small. 
Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what’s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.
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kay-i-guess · 1 year
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stay, stay, stay | Nikolai Lantsov
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Nikolai Lantsov x gn!Reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of an argument 
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | after an argument Nik and y/n apologise and confess how much they love each other
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | based on this request <3 
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 600 ish words I'm sorry its short :(
I pace a few times outside the door before gathering the courage to knock. I freeze. I can't do this 
I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night, I remember all the yelling, I cringe as I recall throwing a book across the room. 
“Who am I kidding he probably left early this morning, he probably hates me now” I drag my hands across my face.
As I turn to leave I see the door swing open, I whirl back around to see Nikoli staring back at me.
“Nik” I breathe out in relief “you stayed?”
He looks at me questioningly “where was I going to go?”
I shake my head “doesn't matter” I wring my hands nervously “can we talk?”
“Of course” he steps back letting me into his room.
I hear the door shut and Nikolai makes his way until he was standing in front of me “Okay let's talk”
“Nik I’m so sorry, I don't know what happened last night but I feel so guilty” he doesn't say anything so I continue “I'm not good at this whole relationship thing, and anyone I've ever dated took all their problems out on me” 
“y/n you know I didn't mean-” 
“I know” I cut him off 
“Look Nik, I love you, you have given me no choice but to
stay,”  
 He looks shocked for a second ad I fear I said something wrong “I'm sorry i-” he takes my hand cutting me off “y/n! I've loved you for quite some time!”  
“Really?” I start to smile 
“Really” were both grinning like idiots now
“I'm sorry about last night y/n” 
“You know what will make it better?” I grin slyly 
“He laughs at my obvious ploy but goes with it nonetheless “what?”
“A kiss” my arms go up to his neck as he laughs
“I can't argue with that” he leads down meeting my lips with his 
It's a sweet kiss full of apology and love, all too soon we have to break away as there's a sharp knock at the door  
“Sorry love,” he says to me 
I pout jokingly as he greats whoever's at the door 
I make my way over to his desk which is covered with papers, I spot a book sitting on the floor and pick it up examining it for damage, it must have been the book I threw across the room, I smile at just minutes ago I was stressing over this very book I place it gently on the desk and make my way over to Nikolai and the interrupter at the door. It's Zoya, she seems to be annoyed at him, something about missing a meeting.  She says one more thing before stalking off.
Nikolai runs his hands over his face, and I giggle over his frustration “hey, hey look at me it's okay” I pull his hand down and hold them in mine.
“I know, it's just frustrating, sometimes I wish it was just you and me.” he sighs and pulls me into a hug placing his head atop mine I hum in agreement “I love you y/n it's like you know everything about me” I look at him in curiosity his eyes meet mine and I can tell his words are true “you've memorized all of me. My fears, hopes and dreams” he presses a kiss to my forehead “I just like hanging out with you, all the time”
“I step back and study his face “Nik honestly, all those times that you didn't leave It occurred to me I'd like to hang out with you for my whole life”
“Honest?” he breaths so quietly I almost miss it 
“Honest” I conform 
A smile breaks out on his face and I can't help but kiss him
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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months
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In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader
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[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]
☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾
SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<
It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.
Almost.
The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.
“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.
Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”
“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”
It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”
“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.
“I find it quite admirable.”
Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.
“Excuse me?” you stutter out.
That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”
“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.
Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.
“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”
The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.
“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.
The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”
Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.
His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”
A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."
To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.
The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.
Outside. You need to get outside.
Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer. 
With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.
A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.
Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.
“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”
“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”
You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”
“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.
“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”
Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.
“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”
“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”
A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.
“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.
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“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”
Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”
When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.
Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.
His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:
“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.
Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”
“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.
Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:
“You know her.”
Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?
But for now, he needs to stay focused. 
“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”
Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”
“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”
Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.
Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.
“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”
Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.
Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.
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You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.
Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.
“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.
Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.
You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?
Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.
He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.
The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”
“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.
“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”
You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”
Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.
“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”
Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’)  but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.
The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.
Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”
You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.
A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”
“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”
You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”
“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”
You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”
Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”
“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”
“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”
“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”
Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"
You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."
Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”
“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”
His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”
"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"
"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."
"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."
That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”
As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.
“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”
It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?
“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.
“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.
Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.
A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”
“Gross.”
“You wanted a frisky sailor.”
"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”
"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.
"Pirate sounds sexier."
Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."
Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time. 
He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.
“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.
“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”
You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:
“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”
“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”
He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”
Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.
You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”
“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”
“I don’t think Alina heard you.”
His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”
“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.
Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.
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зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)
солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)
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hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart……
Enchanted
Request: hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart…
and: btw I saw your post about sab season 2 and i would like to request something with nikolai. i dont really have any ideas but i love that blonde boy so anything that you'll write with him is going to make me happy- but if its angst please im begging for a happy ending im already depressed because im reading rules of wolves
and: omg omg omg enchanted x nikolai sounds so perfect 😭 literally written for him
Hi! I absolutely adore these requests, thank you for sending them in. And sorry for the long wait, I’ve been a bit busy. And please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing for Nikolai, this is only my second time. Also, this request was combined with two others, I hope that’s alright, and sorry for anyone who’s request was altered a little bit to fit this story. I’m happy to accept another request if you don’t like this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! 
(Warnings: arranged marriage, swearing, very very brief angst, very vague suggestive content, drinking, let me know if i missed anything)
You had nearly begged on your knees when you found out you were to be wed, pleading with your parents’ advisors. 
You were no fool. You knew that one day you’d have to marry, and you were prepared to do your duty. A Princess isn’t awarded the luxury of a choice, and you knew any match that was made probably wouldn’t be from a place of love. But you never thought your parents would be prepared to ship you off to a man none of you had ever even laid eyes on, and that’s including the advisors.
A second son, and a rumored bastard at that. It was all happening too fast, and you weren’t having an easy time processing it. 
“You can’t send me! We already have an alliance with Ravka, why send me still?”
One of the men had stood, trying to ease you. “You must go, Princess. We may have an alliance, but our forces need to be strengthened. Prince Vasily is already spoken for. Marrying you to Prince Nikolai is the fastest way.”
“I am told he is charming, if it is any consolation,” another man said, though his voice was firmer. “It is time, Princess, for you to do your duty. You will marry.”
You finally relented, your fate beginning to set in. “That’s it, then. When will I be expected to leave?”
There was a moment of silence, and an awkward shuffling of feet as the advisors stood. And then one of the men spoke, sending dread running through you like ice in your veins. 
“Your arrival is set for the end of the week. The King and Queen are expecting you.”
The journey passed far quicker than you had anticipated. A trip like that should have been grueling, yet each moment felt more fleeting than the last. By the time you arrived on Ravkan soil, you would practically be theirs. Upon your arrival, you were escorted to the Great Hall to meet the King and Queen. 
“Moi tsar,” you curtsied, keeping your eyes low. “Moi tsaritsa. It is an honor.”
The words tasted sour on your tongue, but you spoke them anyway. The King and Queen were not known to be the kindest of people, and you’d rather spend your time in a foreign country on the good side of the sovereign. 
“Princess,” the King greeted as he stood, his eyes racking your body. “You are as beautiful as they say. My son will be pleased. Unfortunately, your arrival has preceded his. He attended a meeting with our generals, and is set to arrive in a few days. The wedding will be in a fortnight. Until then, please enjoy our hospitality. I look forward to this new found alliance between our great countries.”
“As do I,” you said, forcing a smile. 
As the days passed, you grew more uneasy. The weight of your duties were beginning to drag you down, and you didn’t know if you could bear the burden any longer. 
Nikolai had yet to return to court, but with his inevitable arrival looming, it became harder to face each day. You were practically alone in the castle, having yet to make any friends. And you doubted the arrival of a Prince—the subject of scandalous rumors—would do anything to lessen the loneliness and fear you felt every night. 
One evening, the pressure became too great.
Despite your duties, and the anger you knew both countries would feel towards you, you fled. It was a rash decision, and a stupid one at that. But it was the only option that could give you your freedom, so you took it.
It led you all the way down to the harbor, which you briskly made your way to with little more than the clothes on your back.
Your window of opportunity was closing, and you took it. In mere hours, someone would notice you were missing from your room. Guards would be sent all throughout the palace, and they’d track you down if you weren’t quick enough. One way or another, you would marry the second Prince of Ravka. You’d be forced to. And although the thought of being alone in an open country you knew next to nothing about terrified you, it was less terrifying than the thought of being trapped in that castle forever. 
So you went. Fled, more accurately. All the way to the harbor, in nothing but a dress and cloak, with a bag of coins hidden in your skirts. 
As you approached the harbor, the shout of guards could be heard in the distance. “Spread out! She cannot have gone far.”
The Kingsguard.
You felt your chest tighten as you quickened your pace, pulling your hood over your head. You rushed as inconspicuously as you could, clambering to get as far from the palace as possible. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your wrist. 
“What’s the rush for, My Lady? You’re going to hurt yourself running in those shoes,” the woman said, her brows furrowing.
You stopped in your tracks to take her in, realizing she was standing next to a much larger man. She had axes sheathed at her waist, and a confused but intrigued grin. 
“Please, excuse me—” You stuttered out, trying to pull away.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” the man said, in a tone much gentler than his appearance. “We mean you no harm. What are you running from?”
“I need to get away from here, and fast,” you pleaded, deciding to trust these people who stopped you. 
“That wasn’t an answer to our question,” the woman said, easing her grip. 
You let out a frustrated sigh, turning to look over your shoulder before turning back. “Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want. Just let me go. I have to get out of here, and quickly.”
The woman shared a glance with the man, and for a minute, you were beginning to think you had been found out. They somehow recognized you, and would know that the castle guards were looking for you. If that was true, the pair didn’t show it, looking back at you. 
“We have a ship,” the man finally said, gesturing behind him. “And a captain. A name you’d perhaps recognize. Sturmhond.”
Sturmhond, you thought to yourself. The richest pirate on the True Sea? What was he doing in a port in Ravka? You shook your head, having no time for questions. 
“Would he grant me safe passage? I can pay, I have the means. Please, I need to know if this is my only option of getting out of here. I haven’t done anything illegal, I promise. I just need to go.”
The woman laughed, her relaxed disposition beginning to ease you. “Illegal would have been more fun. Don’t worry, Princess. We’ll take you to our captain. You’ll be safe with us.”
Your eyes widened, and you stepped back to retreat, when the man raised his hands in surrender. 
“We mean you no harm, Princess. Clearly, you’re in trouble, and we have the means to get you away from the palace.”
“Trust me,” the woman said, offering you her hand. “We have no wish to return to the palace.. I’m sure our captain isn’t too keen, either.”
You looked between the ship and back at the castle uneasily, when you heard another shout coming from the guards marching through the village. You turned towards the man and woman, who you just realized looked very similar. Siblings, perhaps, who had just gotten back from a journey at sea.
“Sturmhond is quite the character, but he’s a good man. You have my word,” the man said. 
“Alright,” you said, making your decision as you took the woman’s hand. “I’ll go. Thank you, uh…”
You trailed off, making the man smile. He led you towards a nearby ship, helping you climb your way onto it. 
“I’m Tolya, and that’s my sister Tamar. We’re part of Sturmhond’s crew. Come along, he’ll want to meet you.”
They quickly led you aboard a ship, ushering the crew to cast off. The crew looked around with confused faces, but listened anyway. As the ship slowly left the harbor, you were led downstairs to the cabins below. 
“Captain,” Tamar called, knocking on the first doorway below deck, before opening the door herself. 
“Do you want to tell me why my ship is moving away from the dock?” Sturmhond asked without turning around, shuffling through his cabin as he pulled on his coat. 
You cleared your throat. “That would be because of me, I think.”
Sturmhond turned around at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he took you in. “I don’t believe it. Good evening, Princess. I do hope you are well. Tamar and Tolya have treated you kindly, I expect?”
You shrunk under his gaze, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Is my title that easy to spot? You’re the second to figure it out, is it something I’m doing?”
“Tamar has a keen eye,” Sturmond shrugged, grinning. “But you’re also wearing an evening gown fit for court, and the jewels around your neck could buy a small country. Those things aren’t exactly subtle, darling. Even with that cloak.”
You nodded, still nervous but relaxing with his calm demeanor. “I was told you could grant me passage away from the palace? I can pay, I don’t expect you to do this out of the kindness of your heart. But seeing as we’ve already left the harbor, I don’t think you have any other option but to take me with you. Unless you intend on throwing me overboard into the bay, although I’ll thank you kindly not to do that.”
“In that dress? You’d sink to the bottom, darling. There’s no need to worry, Princess. You’ll stay dry on deck, that I can assure you,” he chuckled, motioning for you to sit. 
“We’ll inform the crew our trip has been extended,” Tamar announced, pulling Tolya behind her to leave the cabin. 
You sat in the chair on the other side of Sturmhond’s desk, and he sat across from you. He offered you a kind smile, one that surprised you. You had heard plenty about the infamous privateer. You hadn’t expected him to be this young and handsome. His reputation matched that of an old tycoon, not of what appeared to be an ex soldier. He looked at you with curiosity, motioning for you to speak. 
“So, would you like to explain to me why my ship is sailing back out to sea? Not that I’m upset or anything, I was dreading my return to Ravka myself. But as I understand it, you were asked to come to Ravka to strengthen a political alliance—”
“And how would you know about that?” You interrupted, raising a brow. 
He smiled, shrugging. “I have my ways. It pays to know lots of things about lots of things. Including which Princesses are being married off to far away royalty.”
“Do you know him?” You asked, your voice a little unstable. “The Prince, I mean. Nikolai. I could hardly find anyone who knew him, and any knowledge of him was limited. I went into this alliance blind, thanks to my parents and advisors.”
Sturmhond’s grin widened as he nodded. “I do know him, yes. We were briefly acquainted some time ago.”
“And?”
“He’s alright,” Sturmhond laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Dashingly handsome. A bit cocky for my taste, perhaps a little spoiled, but what royalty isn’t, right? No offense.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “None taken.”
“I suppose you’re lucky in that you’re set to marry him, and not the Crown Prince. Vasily is—how should I put this—well…”
“A bastard?” You finished, making Sturmhond chuckle, nodding. 
“He is, yes. Nikolai is, in another manner of speaking, the same as well. Is that why you’re running? You don’t want to risk your reputation on a second son who may not even be the second son?”
Sturmhond looked at you through curious eyes, although there was a little apprehension in them. A little vulnerability that you didn’t quite know what to make of. You shook your head, inadvertently easing his thoughts. 
“It’s just rumors, Sturmhond. Whether there is any truth to them, I don’t know, and I don’t care. History records names, not blood. A true Lantsov or not, it doesn’t matter to me. It’s not Nikolai’s fault who his true parents are, and he shouldn’t have to bear the consequences of their actions. All that matters to my parents is what he means for my country. His reputation doesn’t affect that.”
“And what matters to you?” Sturmhond asked, his eyes softening. “Your secrets are safe with me, and I promise to not throw you overboard for whatever your answers are. Why are you running, Princess?”
You sat in silence for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. Sturmhond politely waisted for you to start, nodding encouragingly for you to speak. 
You fiddled with your hands in your lap nervously. “Nikolai’s blood doesn’t matter to me, truly. All that really matters is that he has a kind heart, and he makes living at Ravkan court for the rest of my life more bearable.” 
Sturmhond nodded as he listened intently. You continued.
“From what I hear, he’s a perfectly good man. Compared to my list of options, he was probably the best I could have hoped for.”
“Was? Or is? Do you intend on running forever? Seems like a waste of time in what is already a fleeting existence, Princess,” he said quietly. 
“I know,” you nodded, growing frustrated. “I don’t know why I did it. I just thought about being alone at court for the rest of my life, and even the promise of a semi decent Prince wasn’t enough to ease my fears. I just wanted control over my own life for once, you know? My own freedom. It was a rash decision, I admit. But it seems to be working well in my favor so far.”
Sturmhond nodded, standing up from his desk to pour two glasses of whiskey. You downed yours the second he placed it in front of you, deciding it was better to let the second one sit when he refilled your glass.
“And Nikolai? What are his thoughts on the matter?”
You shrugged, fiddling with the glass. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been at court since I arrived. I have yet to meet him. Although, once he hears of me running, I’m sure any first impressions he could have had of me are ruined.”
“I don’t know about that.”
You raised a brow, coaxing him to continue. “Really? Why is that?”
“From what I hear, Nikolai isn’t really one for court, either,” he started, shrugging. “He runs when he gets the chance, too. Why do you think he’s away from court so often?”
You pondered the thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I always assumed his duties took him elsewhere. He’s not the Crown Prince, so he doesn’t need to remain in the palace. He serves in the First Army, doesn’t he?”
Sturmhond nodded, grinning. “He does. Or, to put it more accurately, he did. I think he just loiters around neighboring countries until his Mother forces him to come home and make an appearance now.”
You chuckled, letting out a deep sigh. “Isn’t that a treat? Coming home for the first time in months, only to find out your bride to be has run away.”
“With a face like that, I doubt he’ll care much about anything once he sees you.” 
You felt the heat creep to your cheeks at his words, setting your eyes to your lap to avoid Sturmhond’s heavy gaze. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he breathed out a laugh. 
“Besides, I’m told the Prince isn’t expected back at court for a few more days. Plenty of time for you to decide whether or not you want me to turn this ship around. Who would I be to deny a Princess?”
You smiled, your voice soft. “And if I don’t want to turn around?”
“Well, you’re paying me. I don’t really care either way, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he said, grinning as he topped your glass off. “But just between you and me, I’d do it for free. Anything for a pretty face like that. Just don’t go telling everyone I said that, I have a reputation to maintain.”
You laughed, nodding. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
You spent the next few days on the ship, feeling more and more at ease the further you made it from Ravkan shores. 
At night, you longed for home. 
Not for you parents, or any of their advisors. But for your own bed—not on a constantly rocking ship—and the familiar trill of the birds outside your window on dewy mornings. For the library in the East Wing people seemed to forget was even there, and the soup the cooks would make when a chill was in the air. For the gardens midmorning where you could escape to when you wanted to avoid all the guards constantly watching you. 
Sturmhond did a good job at keeping you distracted from saddening thoughts, though. It was sweet of him, really. Making sure you had someone with you during the day, taking all his meals with you in the evening. 
Your time on the ship was the most relaxed you had been in a long time, actually, which you attributed to him. 
Sturmhond had quite the representation amongst high society—or any society, really—and he certainly met your expectations. He was charming, and attractive. Clever and ambitious, like everyone said he was. 
You hadn’t expected him to be as attentive as he is, however. He seemed to really enjoy a new guest on the ship, one that could keep up with his banter. He didn’t make you feel like a burden like your parents so often did, actually including you in his daily routine. 
Tolya and Tamar were great, too. Kind, and funny. Fiercely loyal and protective, both of their captain and of each other. They were the kind of friends you hoped to make during your time in Ravka. 
So far, it was off to a good start. 
As the days moved on, you found yourself growing closer to Sturmhond. You tried to stop yourself in the beginning. Despite not wanting it for yourself, you were engaged to Nikolai. Falling for another man wasn’t exactly a good thing for your future
But that damned smile.
His ridiculously attractive smile, and his stupid mop of hair that had only gotten longer from his time at sea. The infuriating way he’d look at you and make you want to shrink away from his gaze, but you could never bring yourself to look away. The obnoxious green emerald ring he wore that could probably buy a small village.
He had charmed you, despite your reservations, and you were practically head over heels. It scared the absolute shit out of you. 
Tamar had of course noticed already, confronting you about it one night after dinner. She joined you on deck, sitting next to you on a crate as you watched the stars twinkle in the sky. They were so visible out at sea, away from all the lights and clutter of the cities. 
“You’re not hiding anything from me, you know,” she smirked, sneaking your flask away to take a few sips from it. 
You feigned innocence, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tamar.”
“Come on, darling. Let’s skip the bluffing…you like him. It’s so obvious.”
“Saints, I hope not,” you groaned, scrunching your nose up at the thought of Sturmhond finding out. 
Tamar grinned at your embarrassment, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I may not swing that way, but I know the look when I see it. He’s all puppy dog eyes and desperate looks of longing when he sees you. It’s gross, really. I can actually hear his heart skip a beat when he sees you. He likes you, too. I’d stake money on it.”
You swallowed down your excitement, trying to think rationally. “Don’t even joke about that, it’s not funny.”
“I’m serious! You’re a catch, Princess. He may be my captain, but he’d be a fool not to want you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, but we can stop there,” you nervously chuckled. “We don’t need this going to my head. I’ll do something stupid like staying on this boat forever.”
She grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Would that be so bad?”
The next few days, you couldn’t get Tamar’s words out of your head. You went on with your routine with Sturmhond as usual, trying not to put much thought into it. 
Your feelings for him were true, that’s for sure. 
And when you’d catch him looking at you from across the deck, you’d swear by the look in his eye that he felt something for you, too. What it was, exactly, you didn’t know. 
But it was something. 
On your last evening before you had to make a decision about where you wanted to go, you skipped dinner. You couldn’t bring yourself to go along with your usual banter with Sturmhond, beginning to feel guilty about just how close and comfortable you’d gotten with him. 
You still had a duty to your country and your family, which meant at least a little to you. Plus, it wasn’t fair to make a promise to Prince Nikolai, only to leave him hanging when he returned to Ravka. 
You were leaning against the deck railing, watching the way the moonlight bounced over the still waters. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t register Sturmhond’s approaching footsteps. 
“A bit chilly for stargazing, isn’t it?” He asked, coming to stand next to you. 
You turned to see him, smiling when you noticed he was wearing his signature blue coat. You couldn’t remember a time since you met that he wasn’t dressed to the nines, no matter what time of day it was. 
“You know, for a pirate, you don’t really look like one.” 
He grinned, gently correcting you. “A privateer, darling, not a pirate. There’s a difference, I assure you.”
“Ah, a privateer. How could I have forgotten?” You chuckled, hugging yourself in an effort to shield your arms from the biting cold. “But seriously. The emerald on your finger is the size of a walnut, and that coat is fit for royalty. I find it hard to believe a privateer does well enough to afford things as nice as those.”
“Maybe I’m just good at my job,” he retorted, that signature smirk on his face.
It was enough to stir butterflies in your stomach, making you turn to look back out at the water. His gaze lingered on you a moment, and you could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks under the weight of his stare. 
“You’re cold,” he observed, breaking the silence.
“I’m fine,” you tried to say, but Sturmhond interrupted you.
“I can practically hear your teeth chattering,” he laughed, shrugging his coat from his shoulders. “Here. Seeing as my coat is fit for royalty, as you say, I think it’ll suit you better.”
“Sturmhond—”
“Princess,” he mirrored, smirking when you relented, letting him place it around your shoulders. 
“Thank you,” you said softly.
You turned away from the water to face him, leaning back against the bannister. His eyes flitted up and down your form at his coat wrapped around shoulders, before his eyes met yours. He took a seat on the crate behind him, leaning back and settling into the post next to him. It was quiet a moment before he finally spoke.
“You weren’t in your cabin at dinner. Where have you been?”
You sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat. “Thinking.”
“Thinking? About what?”
“About my future,” you said shakily, shoulders slumping. “Both the imminent one, and the one to follow based on what I decide tonight.”
Sturmhond nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, if I’m being honest.”
You raised a brow at his words. He’d been thinking about your future? He’d been thinking about you? The thought was both intriguing and terrifying, and you hoped the confusion on your face wasn’t too apparent.
“Well, I…I’m sorry, what?”
“Your future directly impacts me,” he quickly corrected, suddenly steeling his face and meeting your confusion with his usual grin. “Where you go I go, remember? You are paying me, after all.”
You tried to hide your disappointment, forcing a smile. It was a foolish hope to have, that he’d think something more of you. But it wasn’t a hope you were ready to give up. 
Not just yet, at least. 
He seemed to notice your disappointment, brows furrowing. “Have I upset you?”
“No,” you quickly replied, trying to brush it off with a laugh. “No, it’s not you. I’m just not quite sure what I should do. I know you need an answer, and Ravka needs an answer, but…I don’t have one yet.”
“Why?” 
You shook your head, sighing in frustration. “Earlier, I had more than halfway made up my mind. I value my freedom, but I think I value my dignity more. I don’t think I could go anywhere and face anyone, knowing I’ve turned my back on my duties. It may have not been a promise I made for myself personally, but it is a promise I had every intention of keeping.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, a genuine look of concern on his face.
His eyes softened on you as your face fell, and you turned away from him as you felt heat creep up to your cheeks. You could hear him stand and approach you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 
“Princess?” He asked, only worsening your embarrassment. 
He spoke again, finally getting you to acknowledge him. “You’re worrying me, darling. Surely it cannot be that bad.”
“But it is,” you groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes to stave off the tears you could feel brewing. 
“Try me,” he said gently, carefully placing a hand on your arm. “You can tell me the truth. What’s stopping you from returning to Ravka?”
You could feel his touch even through the coat, which struck you like a punch to the gut when you remembered it was, in fact, his coat you were wearing. And to make it worse, that damned grin was on his face as he spoke with such a genuine kindness in his voice that it made you want to cry. 
You finally met his eyes, taking a sharp breath. Shit, you thought to yourself. You were really going to admit it. He eagerly awaited your response, which you finally managed to utter. 
“You.”
He sucked in a breath, withdrawing his hand. He looked up at the sky for a moment, before taking another breath and turning back to you. 
“Me?” He asked. 
“You,” you said again, exasperatedly laughing. “You, and your ridiculous clothes, and your infuriating charm, and your kindness and ambition…that damned smile.” 
Sturmhond’s cheeks flushed, and he took a step back, although he was grinning like a fool. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. You didn’t dare speak, waiting for him to say something. After an agonizing moment of silence, he leaned against the bannister, letting out a chuckle.
“What?” You forced yourself to ask, preparing yourself for his answer. 
“Saints, Princess…you’ve gone and done it now.”
You shook your head, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. “What?”
“You’ve managed to outdo me. On my own ship. Quite the feat, I’ll give you that,” he laughed, still grinning. 
You narrowed your eyes, still shaking your head. “Sturmhond, I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re saying to me right now. Will you do the honor of enlightening me, or are you going to stand there grinning at me all night?”
“You like my grin,” he mused, making you flush.
He spoke again, saving you from your embarrassment. “And it just so happens that I like yours, too. I like all of you. Very much so indeed, Princess.”
Your heart lurched into your throat at his words, and you had to grab ahold of the bannister behind you to keep yourself steady. He placed his hand over top of yours, his palm warming yours. 
“I cannot believe you beat me to the punch. It’s rude to upstage a captain on his own ship. You’re lucky you’re royalty. I’ll allow it just this once.”
You had just now calmed your breathing, beginning to take in the weight of his words, and what it meant for you both. “Sturmhond, I—”
“I have a confession to make,” he suddenly said in a very serious tone, startling you. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I must tell you something before either of us share something we can’t take back.”
“Alright…” You said uneasily. 
Carefully, he took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You let him hold it, waiting for him to speak. Absentmindedly, you comfortingly ran your thumb along the back of his hand, silently reassuring him. 
“My name isn’t Sturmhond,” he finally said, the nerves in his voice the worst you had ever heard them. 
Trying not to jump to any hasty conclusions, you nodded, squeezing his hand once more. “Alright…if it isn’t Sturmhond, then what is it?”
“Well, technically it is, but it also isn’t. It’s just a nickname—” He rambled, and you placed your other hand on top of his to stop him. 
“I gathered that much. What else are you trying to tell me? Go on, you can say it.”
He took a deep breath, his voice soft. “It’s true that people call me Sturmhond, but I’m much better known for my birth name…Nikolai. Nikolai Lantsov.”
The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. You tried not to flinch in his grasp, but you knew he could feel you stiffen. You cleared your throat, feeling your voice begin to grow hoarse
“Nikolai Lantsov…as in Prince Nikolai Lantsov, second son of the Ravkan throne? Moi tsarevich,” you croaked out, attempting to curtsy. 
“Please,” Nikolai said, holding both your hands in his to keep you from bowing. “There is no need for such formalities, darling. If anything, I should be the one bowing to you.”
You stood up straight, shaking your head. “We’re long past that, don’t you think?” 
He chuckled, nodding. “I suppose so.”
The reality of your situation began to set in, and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling along with him. He smiled at the sound, raising a brow. 
“What is it?”
“I suppose my little dilemma is solved then,” you said, shrugging. “I was beginning to spiral, thinking my annoying habit of not being able to contain my feelings had ruined any decision I could have made. But of course—in your usual fashion—you’ve managed to upstage me. As is your right, it is your ship, after all. Well, I suppose there’s no decision to make now. At least, I think there isn’t…right?”
Any nerves you had mustered up were immediately squashed when Nikolai brought his hands up to cup your face, running his thumbs across the tops of your cheeks.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take you wherever you wanted to go. All I can hope now is that you’ll allow me to join you…wherever that is.”
You brought a hand up to rest against his wrist. “Don’t you want to go home? You’re expected back in Ravka any day now.”
“I love my country, but I’m in no hurry to return. You’ve told me multiple times how dreadful court was for you—”
“That doesn’t matter,” you quickly said, squeezing his wrist. 
“Of course it does! I cannot ask you to return to a country you’ll be miserable in for the rest of your days for a man you barely know.”
“It’s a good thing you aren’t asking, then,” you reaffirmed, giving him a smile. “I told you. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. I said that I was afraid I would be all alone at court, and that I was afraid the man I am promised to wouldn’t want a life with me.” 
“What a fool he’d have to be to not want that,” Nikolai joked, making your grin widen.
You continued to reassure him, not convinced that he was believing your words. 
“You say that you’ll follow me wherever I go. Well, I want to go with you. Wherever that is. And I want you to go home. I may have not known you for long, but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you won’t truly be content if you’re tied to my wishes. And I know you’re too stubborn to admit that, so I’ll tell you my wishes, and I need you to believe me. I wish to be with you. I wish for you to return to wherever feels like home, and I wish for you to take me with you. If that’s Ravka, then Ravka will be home. Court will become much more bearable with you there. And if it begins to become too much, I know a certain privateer that can whisk us away for a few days.”
He was doing it again. Smiling like an idiot. He seemed to be in disbelief at your words, this being one of the very few times in his life that he couldn’t find the right words to say. 
“I didn’t mean to trick you, Princess. I should have told you who I was from the beginning.”
You shook your head. “I don’t blame you, Nikolai. If I was given the chance, I wouldn’t have told you who I really was, either. At least, not until I knew I could trust you. I would have done the same as you did. It’s alright.”
“I can’t believe my luck,” he grinned, taking your hand. “How is it that my betrothed managed to stumble upon my ship the very hour I returned to Ravka?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not one to believe in fate, and it sounds impossible.”
“Not impossible…improbable,” he corrected, smirking when you playfully narrowed your eyes up at him. 
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile at your turn of luck. “Are we doing this? Are you going home to Ravka?”
“Are we going home, you mean? I can’t be expected to abandon my betrothed when she turns out to be the single most invigorating person I’ve ever met, now can I?”
“You cannot,” you agreed.
A comfortable moment of silence passed between you both, and you looked down at his hands as you held them in yours. The familiar glint of green on his finger made you chuckle. 
“I knew it, by the way,” you added, grinning. “This coat and that ring are far too ridiculous for a privateer. They’re fit for royalty. Fit for a Lantsov.”
“Am I to understand that you’re not interested in a Lantsov emerald for your engagement ring?” He asked, smirking when you quickly shook your head.
You laughed, pulling his hand closer to inspect his ring. “I said nothing of the sort. I was merely observing how ridiculous it is, as well as this coat. But I’m still wearing it, aren’t I? If I’m going to be married to a ridiculous man, I should begin preparing now, shouldn’t I?”
He narrowed his eyes, playfully jutting his chin up at you. “You just like the coat and want to keep it. It’s alright, darling, you can admit it. We can have your own fitted for you, all you have to do is ask.”
Nikolai gripped the hem of your sleeve, tugging you closer by the arm of his coat. You let him pull you, chuckling nervously when he drew you nearer. 
“I admit nothing, only that my future husband has a taste I will have to acquire. But I’m sure I’m up for the task. We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”
“We do,” he smiled, settling his hands around your waist. “Although I’ll have to admit, I don’t think we know each other well enough to become husband and wife.”
You tensed under his hold, and he quickly retracted his statement, shaking his head. He didn’t give you enough time to truly panic, interrupting your train of thought. 
“And that’s perfectly fine, darling. Like you said, we have all the time in the world to get to know each other. I think I’d like to take advantage of that starting now. After all, it is our last night on the ship, isn’t it? At least, I assume it is. I expect you’ll want to set a course for Ravka now. Unless you’d rather I get down on one knee, and make a big show of it first. I can do that, if you wish.”
“I certainly wouldn’t stop you,” you chuckled, letting your hands rest on top of his as your tone shifted to a more serious note. “Are we really doing this, Nikolai? Returning to Ravka? Getting married?”
He smiled wider, a twinkle in his eye as he looked down at you. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you stepped foot on my ship, the second I laid eyes on you. And I’ve wanted you more every day since. I’m not one to believe in fate either, but I do think the Saints may have gifted you to me. Who knows what I did to deserve it, but you most definitely won’t find me questioning their will if you’re the result.”
You felt your heart swell at his words. He was right. Of all the ships in the harbor, his was the one you found yourself on. Of all the captains in Ravka, he was the one who took you in. The man you were supposed to marry, and you found yourself falling for him long before you even knew who he truly was. If that isn’t fate, then what is?
“I’ll take all the influence from the Saints I can get when it comes to explaining to your parents why I’ve disappeared right out from under them,” you said with a groan, leaning into him. 
Nikolai chuckled, holding you close. “My Mother will forget all about it when she sees my future safely secured with marriage. There is no need to worry, trust me.”
“I may not have to worry about her, but I do need to worry about Tamar,” you said, letting out a pained chuckle. “I think she staked money on our little situation.”
“She most definitely did. I expect Tolya will be paying up when they hear the news. Who should break it to him?”
You grinned, shaking your head. “I think that duty lies with you, as my future husband. If I’m going to have to listen to Tamar’s endless bragging about being right, then you should have to take half the burden in the form of telling Tolya. That’s how marriage works, isn’t it? Half and half. It’s only fair.”
It was his turn to groan now as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, taking yours in the other. 
“Alright, I’ll do it, but you have to accompany me. I think your presence will help soften the blow. What do you say, darling? After all…it’s only fair.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, squeezing his hand. “If I must. You’re lucky you’re pretty, Lantsov.”
“Darling, I’m lucky for a lot more than that,” he smiled endearingly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
— A/N - Hi! This is SO long, I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been busy and had no time to write. But I finally forced myself to get this done, and now I have more time to write! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you think! Thank you again for the requests :)
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futurecorps3 · 11 months
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Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.
Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞
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Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.
Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes
A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)
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Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.
How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?
When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.
Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.
Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.
They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.
His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.
"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.
"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.
Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.
Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.
The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."
Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".
˚ · • . °
She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.
Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.
He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.
If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.
Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.
"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.
She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.
The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.
"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.
Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.
Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.
"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.
Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.
Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.
Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.
This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.
So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.
After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.
"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.
The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.
A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.
"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".
˚ · • . °
And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.
As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.
Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.
"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.
As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.
They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.
She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.
Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.
Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.
They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.
˚ · • . °
Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.
In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.
Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.
He just hated that feeling.
It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.
And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.
The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.
"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"
The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.
˚ · • . °
Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.
He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.
He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.
He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.
He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.
He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.
He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.
Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.
˚ · • . ° .
Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...
Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!
Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3
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criminalamnesia · 1 year
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.
warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, no gendered pronouns used (that I know of), grisha!heartrender!reader
author’s note: dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift inspired this! also listen I love zoya and nikolai but nikolai is just sooooooo ksjfjsjs I wanted to write a reader insert for him.
What you had with your captain was something no one understood– not even the two of you.
Sturmhond– or Nikolai, as you knew him in secret– was your friend. Your captain. But he was also something more.
He was a rogue ship, and you were a lighthouse guiding him home. He was a dangerous sea, threatening to drown you if you tested your luck– and oh, how you were so close to seeing what would happen if you did.
You shouldn’t even know his true identity. But, as fate would have it, he needed a heartrender with a specific set of skills that you just happened to have, and you needed an escape.
You were his tailor– disguising his appearance and turning him into the infamous Sturmhond. That was the only reason you were allowed to see him without his mask– you were the one to put it back together.
“You’re not surprised?” He had asked you the first night your services had been requested.
The ginger hair of Sturmhond had faded. The crooked nose had straightened, but the same smug grin was still present.
“No,” you had said. “I know that heartbeat. I knew it was you a mile from your ship.”
That took him aback. How did you know his heartbeat?
You had laughed, your eyes twinkling with something he found mesmerizing. He didn’t know you– he was sure of it. He wouldn’t forget a face like yours.
One of your hands was on his shoulder, holding him still. The other roamed his face, fingers dancing across his skin as you worked.
“You’re staring,” you stated, your fingers moving to his messy blond hair. “Trying to figure out how I know you?”
“Yes,” he admitted, eyes watching your face intently. “Were you at the Little Palace?”
You nodded. “I was.” The blond of his hair started to turn red. “But I spent most of my time in the Grand Palace.” You paused, your hand leaving his shoulder to move to his chin, tilting his head to the side. You could hear his heart beat a tad bit faster.
“The Darkling gave me to your mother, as he did with Genya. I was her apprentice. She taught me how to tailor.” You told him.
“I didn’t suffer the same fate she did, if that’s what you’re wondering. Your father had eyes for her, not me.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Nikolai flinched.
“You were rarely home– but I met you once, when we were both still small. That’s why I know your heartbeat. The only one of the Royal Family to have a good heart– not a sour one. It stuck with me, I guess you could say.”
“I don’t remember you,” he admitted, and you gave a small laugh. His blond hair was almost completely red now.
“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re not the only one being tailored, Captain. The First Army can’t take me back if they don’t recognize me, now can they?”
“Are you listening?”
Nikolai’s voice broke you from your thoughts. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters on the ship. You stood between his knees, your hands on his face as you changed him back into Sturmhond.
“Mhm,” you hummed. You weren’t. This routine was something you could do in your sleep, and truthfully, you found your mind drifting off more and more whenever Nikolai required your assistance. It’s not that you found his company dull– quite the opposite, actually. But you didn’t want him to know that.
“No you weren’t,” he gave a small chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab one of yours. He pulled it from his face as he intertwined your fingers.
“Nikolai,” you hissed, pulling your hand from his grasp. “Do you want me to mess up? I was in the middle of reforming your nose.”
He sighed, his hand falling back to his lap as you raised yours once more. You avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw in them.
Between the two of you, he was the more open with his feelings. For the past few weeks, he had continuously tried to corner you and get you to talk about whatever the two of you were. To try and figure things out. You had successfully avoided him thus far, but you knew you were dancing on thin ice.
It was only a matter of time before he recruited one of the twins to subdue you while he forced you to listen. You wouldn’t put it past him, and you knew for a fact Tolya would help him. Curse that hopeless romantic.
“You’re insufferable. And exhausting,” he told you as you grasped his chin gently between your fingers, turning his face this way and that to examine your handiwork.
“I know. You tell me quite often,” you remarked, nodding to yourself as you moved to focus your sights on his hair.
He sighed. Silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost smothering, full of unsaid words and the tension between the two of you. You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him– his knees caging you in as you stood between his spread legs. His face in your hands, his hands now on your waist.
“We keep dancing around this,” he said. You didn’t reply, choosing to focus more intently on the roots of his hair. “The whole crew thinks we’re sleeping together.”
That caught you off guard. You gave a snort, rolling your eyes. “Of course they do. You call me to your quarters in the night, every week. You always stare at me, especially when you think I’m not looking. And you’re handsy– you’ve always got a hand on my back or my shoulder or something.”
Nikolai chuckled. “Well, you’re one to talk. Every time you laugh at something I’ve said, you grab onto my arm and go ‘oh Sturmhond!’. And don’t act like you don’t stare, too.”
“I do not say ‘oh Sturmhond’,” you said, looking down at him. He grinned that same crooked smile.
“I know you’re thinking it. Probably thinking some other things, too. Like how you’d like to–”
“Shut up, or I’m going to give you a black eye.” You hissed, pulling his hair harder than you should’ve.
He laughed. “You wouldn’t. You like my face too much.”
“Im sick of it, actually,” you remarked. “I see it everyday.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” He replied.
“You say that as if you’d let me leave. I’m the only tailor you’ve got.”
He shook his head. “That’s not the reason I wouldn’t let you leave, and we both know it.”
You dropped your hands as the last of his blond turned red. Your job here was done. There was nothing stopping you from bidding him goodnight and excusing yourself to your own cot. You knew he would drop it and let you go without another word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You didn’t want to say anything.
“So now you’re keeping me prisoner?” You said, suddenly all too aware of his hands squeezing your waist.
“Maybe I am. At least until you admit you like me,” he said, and you scoffed.
“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here–” you began, but he cut you off.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
He moved to stand. You tried to step back, but his hands on you kept you rooted to the spot. You looked up at him, heat rising to your cheeks. Your chests were touching now, and there were only inches between your lips and his.
“When are we going to stop playing this game?” He whispered, one of his hands moving from your waist to brush a strand of hair from your face.
“You like it too much to stop.” You retorted.
“I’d like honesty more,” he said, and you shook your head. “As much fun as playing cat and mouse is with you, I’m growing tired of chasing. And we both know you’re tired of running.”
His hands were on your hips as he swung you around the deck, a laugh on his lips as you clung to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile as he dipped you, your eyes meeting his. There were unspoken promises in his gaze– too many feelings, and you had to look away.
Others danced around you two as a few of the crew played some song you’d never heard on makeshift instruments. Laughter and conversation made it hard to think straight. Spirits were high– you’d all just succeeded in breaking through a Fjerdan blockade– and that called for a celebration.
“They’re all going to think we’re together,” you had told Nikolai as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. He had laughed, leaning in close to whisper “let them” in your ear.
He had kissed you for the first time that night, after the party had subsided and everyone was asleep but the two of you. You had been talking quietly, watching the stars and listening to the waves, and he had kissed you and you had melted.
“Nikolai..” you sighed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“I don’t care,” he told you, and his heartbeat was as steady as it had ever been.
“I do,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You can’t play pirate forever. What happens when you go back to Ravka, back to your family? You can’t marry me. I’m nobody– not a princess, not a diplomat. I’m an escaped servant who knows too much and would be imprisoned or executed for escaping.”
“Privateer,” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. “And I’m the second son– a bastard second son. I’m already a disgrace in their eyes,” one of his hands moved to the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. “I can’t disappoint them any more than I have.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think of you now, they still won’t let me anywhere near you.” You replied, and he shook his head.
“Why are we even talking about this?” He asked. “We’re not in Ravka. We’re in the middle of the ocean, and no one cares what we do.”
He was right. You were far from Ravka and his family and your pasts. You were someone new, and he was, too. You weren’t an escaped servant– you were Sturmhond’s first mate. You were his most trusted friend– besides the twins– and you were the one he wanted.
And you wanted him, too.
“I don’t care about details,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t care about families or consequences or rumors. I care about you, about that little smile you always get before you win at cards, about how you let me drag you onto the dance floor while the crew stares, and how you put up with me more than you should.”
You didn’t say anything, too stunned for words.
“I would do anything,” he began, his face slowly inching towards yours. “To dance with you again. To kiss you again. To not hide behind stolen glances and little jabs at each other.”
“Nikolai,” you murmured, your eyes flitting down to his lips.
“Yes?” He asked as your eyes found his once more.
“Just shut up.” You said, and you closed the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his.
Maybe nothing he said would be true in the morning. Maybe he would realize this was all a big mistake, but you didn’t care.
He was right. You were tired of running, and you were so glad he was tired of chasing.
And as you kissed, that heartbeat that you’d remembered after all these years– that you’d always remember– soared.
And you knew he wasn’t lying.
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beautysamour · 1 year
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Your beauty never ever scared me
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Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader
Summary: figuring out you were a descendant of the darkling messed up everything. with all the backlash you received because of this, your self esteem takes a blow. the company of a certain prince causes you to realize that you aren’t the monster you began to think you were.
warnings: some angst but this has a happy ending
a/n: the nikolai brain rot is real 😔🫶 enjoy! Also this is set before it’s revealed that mal is the third amplifier.
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No. No, Baghra was wrong. You knew who you were and who your family was, she was wrong.
You’ve been going over the pieces of dialogue you had with Baghra ever since the sun set in your bed- well one of the palace’ bed. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of being related to him, to sharing his blood, his power.
To having any connection with the darkling.
You were never discovered by the grisha as a kid. Whenever the testers came by, your parents would give you a small cut somewhere on your body that could easily be hidden and at the time you didn’t think much of it- because you could barely remember them doing that.
You never had a good relationship with your parents so you didn’t think anything of it when they’d hurt you. It was just normal.
You never necessarily feared grisha, but you always feared the Fold and by extension, the power of the darkling. To think that all it would take for the Fold to get worse was to piss him off.
And piss him off you did.
During his little demonstration with Alina in the Fold, he tried to get you to join him thinking that you knew. That interaction finally made sense to you.
Feeling your head start to hurt and feeling even worse after realizing what’s in your blood, you turn off the lights in your room and go to bed.
“I hope I’m not ruining your day too much, sweetheart.”
Nikolai woke you up early this morning and asked for you to accompany him on a horse ride, “just for fun.” he said.
You knew better though, Nikolai never batted an eye at you since you boarded his- sturmhond-, ship. Alina was always more interesting. You knew that you were respected once you got the palace though, Tolya continuously singed out praises of your name to the army.
You knew that people in the palace had no problem with your presence, until now. Until people learned that you were grisha. Not everyone knows you’re related to the Darkling however, only a few people know.
Including Nikolai.
So you knew better. You knew that the only reason why you were with him right now is because he was told to keep an eye on you, to supervise you. You were now considered to be scum, as you were grisha.
“Wasn’t planning on doing much today, so I’m fine.”
You heard a soft snicker come from Nikolai’ direction but chose to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path in front of you two.
“Right,” he says with a slight grin on his face, “I’m glad, I’d never want to ruin a pretty girls’ mood.” From your peripheral you could see Nikolai observing you, looking for a reaction. He’s use to the normal flush of the cheeks and a stutter through a sentence, but you had no reaction to hearing him call you pretty. He had a rather flirty personality so his words meant nothing to you.
You remained silent hoping he would drop the conversation. You didn’t have anything against Nikolai, you actually really liked him. You could tell that he was going to be the king that Ravka needs.
But there was too much on your mind for you to be able to have small talk.
Nikolai suddenly let out a distressed sigh, “I have a meeting to get to sweetheart, if Vasily wasn’t getting on my back every hour of the day I would’ve stayed all day out here with you,” he pulls the reigns on his horse and turns towards the palaces’ direction, “let’s go back?” He gives you a small guilty smile and tilts his head resembling a puppy begging for a treat.
You nod feeing glad that you’ll be able to fully indulge in your thoughts and pull the reigns on your horse, riding back to the palace.
“She’s a monster!”
Nikolai was tempted to raise his voice, he and Vasily have been at it for the past hour. Yesterday, news got out that you were grisha- the soldiers gossip- and Vasily immediately told Nikolai that he should make you leave. Nikolai fought back against that idea and to get Vasily to shut up for at least a day about you, he agreed to “spy” on you.
“Nothing has changed, she’s still the same person Tolya constantly praised, and that you wanted as your bride.”
Nikolai did not want to have this conversation again. You were still the same girl he met on the ship, the two of you may have not interacted as much but he still saw you.
You were nothing like the Darkling and he had no problem reminding his brother of how infatuated he was with you.
“That was before I realized she was his kin, a monster just like him!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, finding it harder to control his raising temper. Vasily paced around his room, repeatedly mumbling out curses in the remembrance of previously touching you.
He was disgusted and he, like many other people in the palace, wanted you gone. He stopped pacing when Nikolai straightened his back before getting up from his chair and walking to the door of the room, indicating that this little meeting was over. “Nikolai,” Vasily called out in a strained voice, “Think about the people.”
Nikolai felt his body freeze. Think about the people. Oh, he was thinking about the people. You were no threat, maybe to your enemies but not his people. Not wanting to lash out at his brother, Nikolai took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Good night, brother,” he decides to say. He faces his body towards him and while still trying to keep his composure, he sends his brother a sharp glare with eyes filled with pure irritation, “I will not change my mind.”
You pressed your head further into your pillow trying to block out the obnoxious knocks that were coming from your door. Who could possibly already be in need of your presence?
After a few more seconds of the continuous knocks getting more aggressive and louder, you gave in to the persistent demands for you to open the door and got up.
“It’s really quite early,” you said through loose lips. You abruptly finished your sentence, a slight feeling of panic rushing into your body. Nikolai Lantsov. He was here again, the people must be getting more weary of you if he felt the need to visit you again.
You didn’t bother fixing up your hair or straightening out your evening wear before opening the door and you greatly regretted not doing so at the moment, you dropped your shoulders feeling embarrassed that he saw you in an unprofessional state.
He put on a slight smile in attempt to charm you, which he succeeded at, you internally pushed away that feeling of giddiness and straightened your posture waiting for him to speak.
“Yes it is quite early, that’s why I came here,” his eyes trail down your body and back up to your eyes before outstretching an arm, “breakfast?”
“Uh,” you stutter out, “sure, just let me…clean myself up.” You awkwardly moved your gaze from him trying to avoid how awkward this situation was as you closed your door- his was mid sentence in saying of course he’ll wait- but your door closed before he was able to finish.
You sat down in the chair that was in front of a middle sized mirror just above the table. You stared at your reflection for a few seconds before bringing your hands up to cover your face and curling your body into yourself. You much prefer not having the Prince’ attention.
It’s been a little over three months since Nikolai invited you for breakfast and you’ve begun to question his actual intentions.
He comes to your room each morning and invites you for breakfast and shares most of his hours with you, but all of these hangouts tend to follow your own terms.
If you wanted to go back to your room, Nikolai would simply walk you to your room, kiss the back of your hand, and continue his day without you. Usually you’d be the one to reach out to him during these days if you decided you wanted to be outside your room again.
You almost forgot that he had a duty as being a prince and that you were related to their current number one enemy. And you almost forgot that people still feared grisha. Almost.
People talk and rumors spread fast, you and Nikolai weren’t invisible whenever you two walked around the palace grounds. Inevitably people began to gossip.
Nikolai was always with you, he spoke of finding a bride openly around you which has caused some people to theorize about your relationship with him. The most common theory was that you were using him, that you used your grisha powers as a threat against him, that you would hurt the people if he did not enter a romantic relationship with you.
You tried to block them out. Nikolai never brought those rumors up so you assumed he just never heard them, well you weren’t going to be the one to tell him about it. What if he hears them then realizes that they might be right, that he was an idiot for ever letting his guard down around you.
As much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t deny the way your heart would race every morning, every time he knocked on your door and offered his arm. Every time he’d invite you into his personal quarters and give you that stupid smile paired with a tilt of his head that made you want to do anything he’d ask of you.
He made you feel like you weren’t a monster, that you weren’t a threat. You didn’t want to loose his trust, and you didn’t want to loose him. The amount of trust he has put in you threw you in for a loop, you’ve been constantly arguing with yourself over whether or not he’s being genuine or is still keeping an eye on you.
You couldn’t fault him if he was just doing this to keep an eye on you still, the Darkling has been visiting you, just like he was been with Alina.
“Sweetheart?”
You immediately tore your eyes away from the food in front of you after hearing his voice. In front of you; Nikolai was leaning slightly forward his eyebrows furrowed giving his face a worried expression.
“Yes?” You replied. You don’t know how long it’s been since you zoned out, but when you pick up your silver ware to put some of the food in your mouth it was cold.
Nikolai let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding, “Did you hear what I said?”
Shit.
You opened your mouth to say a lie, yes, but you knew that he’d immediately call your bluff. He was observant, too observant sometimes. He had a talent for reading people.
“No,” you decided to say, “sorry, I zoned out.”
He leaned back in his chair and relaxed his eyebrows, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been telling you about my day and you zone out? Do I really not matter to you?” He whines.
Nikolai had a thing for theatrics, especially when it was to tease someone. Seeing that you had no regret in your gaze towards him, he lets out another breath and gives in to the smile he was holding back.
“That’s alright, this means that I can spend more time with you.” His wholesome smile now turning into a flirtatious grin, he puts his forearms on the table and leans closer to your face, “I do quite enjoy your company anyways.” His smile slightly drops as his eyes also fall to your lips then back to your eyes.
Lately you two have been having more moments like this, where the two of you fall into moments like these where Nikolai’ flirting feels more genuine.
The one thing that hasn’t changed throughout these few months of you two hanging out was that you knew better. Flirting was a regular thing for Nikolai, and because of that you let out a laugh causing Nikolai to lean back; seeming to now be avoiding your gaze.
“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me? The big bad grisha,” you tease. You felt a little disappointed at seeing that he was avoiding your gaze, Nikolai wasn’t the type to back away from flirting. You lean forward on the table, “Saints Nikolai, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.”
Taking your teasing tone as a dare, he returned his gaze to you and leaned forward on the table coming dangerously close to your face. This time you were taken aback, and ever the observer, he saw. He accompanied his smug expression with a smirk, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.” His voice turned into a whisper as he finished his sentence.
He waited for you to do something. He wanted to see how long you’d last, for what exactly, well only Nikolai really knows that.
You counted your heartbeats, and three heartbeats later Nikolai dropped his gaze and turned his head as he let out a snicker, “Just messing around princess,” he straightened his back and got out of his seat, “we leave before sundown.”
You watched as he left the dining area, a little confused at what he meant about leaving before sundown but then you remembered; the mission.
“Shit.”
“Nikolai,” you called out to him as you walked into his tent, “why is my tent all the way on the other side of camp?”
This mission really wasn’t that dangerous compared to everything else that was going on but you didn’t want to gamble Nikolai’ life, since he was a prince.
“Good evening to you to sweetheart,” he said in a lighthearted tone before putting down the letter in his hand, “can’t keep your mind off of me?”
He was right, you couldn’t.
You let out a scoff slightly annoyed, “What if you get attacked? And I’m all the way on the other side of camp- I wouldn’t be able to help!”
Mirroring his actions earlier in the day, his refused to meet your gaze as he leaned back in his chair. “If I were to get attacked, you’d be safe. I have people with me- fighters who’ll be able to protect me if I somehow am not able to protect myself. You don’t need to worry.”
You exhaled as you felt yourself deflate. You wanted to say more but you knew that it wouldn’t matter once the conversation ended. All you would’ve succeeded at was creating some unnecessary tension between the two of you, with you being annoyed, which Nikolai thought was already out of character with you getting upset about something so small, and Nikolai being busy.
You glanced back at him before turning around to leave his tent, resembling a toddler who got upset after hearing they couldn’t get a toy they wanted.
Hearing your footsteps get further away, Nikolai lifted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head and picking up the letter again.
Nikolai lifted his head from his desk as soon as he heard a deafening scream, immediately on high alert and running out of his tent. The first thing that greeted Nikolai were soldiers running. Tents were on fire and the once peaceful camp was now overwhelmed with chaos.
Instead of his first thought being to get his people out of this ambushed camp, which was his second, he wanted to get to you. Now he regretted putting your tent on the other side of camp, now he had no idea where you were or if you were ok.
He started running to your side of the camp before getting blocked by a drüskelle-
“Desjenet!” yelled out the drüskelle. Nikolai began to reach out for his sword but made no action to take it out yet. “I’m not grisha-“
“But you protect them,” seethed out the drüskelle, “you are an enemy if you protect them.”
Not leaving anytime for Nikolai to respond, the drüskelle lunged forward but was never able to make contact with Nikolai. The man began to sway before falling apart. His head, upper body, and lower body all disconnect from each other as he falls to the ground, a dark wisp of smoke fading into the air as he does.
Nikolai didn’t take much time looking at the corpse in front of him when he heard another scream, forcing him to look up and see who was responsible for the death.
You. There you are standing in front of him, seemingly frozen in place and regret immediately floods into your veins. You just killed some using his power. You looked up at Nikolai and suddenly felt the need to throw up. So much to not wanting him to see you as a monster.
Nikolai, remembering that someone screamed, moved his gaze to the soldier a few feet away from you who had seemed to have seen you kill a man using the Darkling’ power. “Monster…” the soldier whimpered out before running away.
Nikolai had the urge to curse out his soldier but swallowed that urge down, the camp was still on fire and the two of you needed to get out. He ran over to you and grabbed you by the arm. “Are you alright,” he asks. You avoid his gaze. When you don’t answer he begins to start running, with his hand still on your arm dragging you through the camp, trying to find a horse.
He felt you stiffen and he felt you resist your urge to pull away from him. He wanted to look back at you, to talk to you face to face and assure himself that you’re alright but he decides against it. You guys will talk once you get back to the little palace.
You’ve been in Nikolai’ personal quarters before but you’ve never been on his bed. You’re sure your thoughts would’ve been completely incoherent if you weren’t so caught up about using the cut.
Saints, you were truly a monster.
Nikolai entered the room, he was checking up with his soldiers and making sure everyone or at least most of the people who were at the camp came back here. If there were any that didn’t, a rescue squad was already sent out.
You didn’t bother to look at Nikolai as he sat down on the edge of his bed next to you. You couldn’t look at him, you didn’t even want him to speak. You couldn’t bare to hear him call you a monster-
“Are you alright,” he says instead.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckles. You thought you’d never hear that again, you never he thought he’d bring you back to the palace.
“I’m alright. Now, are you going to give me an answer?”
You don’t give him an answer for a few seconds. Then suddenly the confusion become to hard to contain, “Why did you bring me back here?”
He turns his head to you and tilts it, now being the confused one, “You’re one of my soldiers, why would I not?”
“Because I’m a monster!” You blurt out. You don’t get why he cared, and now you’re really questioning if he was just spying on you the entire time or not, it seems like he was not.
“I’m not just a grisha Nikolai, I’m related to the enemy, I used to his power to kill someone right in front of you! Now everyone in the palace knows I’m related to him, all the soldiers are weary of me and it makes it even worse that I’m close to you. You’re reputation is getting corrupted because you’ve been seen with me.”
He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on you and lets you continue.
“The people think I’m- that I’m using my power to manipulate you and seeing how you had no reaction to me using the cut, they might come to some stupid conclusion that you’re actually conspiring with the enemy-“
“Y/N.” He finally interrupts, “Is that what’s been on your mind for these past few months?”
The last time he called you by your name was when he was Sturmhond. Hearing him call you by your name succeeded at making your heart ache even more.
“Yes,” you say, “so I don’t understand why I’m still here.”
You turn your head to meet his eyes and regret it immediately. The amount of intensity in his eyes is enough to make you choke on your saliva.
“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. You can’t figure out if he’s trying to change the topic or maybe you just smell that bad. Maybe changing the topic is what you needed before you end up having a full on mental break down in front of him.
“Ok,” you whisper. Nikolai gets up and walks to his bathroom, soon you hear the sound of water entering his bathtub. Noticing that you didn’t follow him, Nikolai sticks his head out of his bathroom and gestures you to come into his bathroom.
Even though the atmosphere was rather uncomfortable, you still…liked him. So being invited into such a personal space still managed to make you shy.
Nikolai is leaning against his bathtub when you enter his bathroom. Hearing you enter, Nikolai lifts his head up to look at you then glances at your face, your hair, and your body before getting up to give you some alone time.
Getting a random surge of boldness you grab his hand and keep him in place. He turns his head to look at you and tilts his head in confusion, once again resembling a puppy.
“Can you…stay,” you cringe internally after hearing those words come out and avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush. You hear a cough, as if someone was trying to stifle a laugh.
“Ok.”
You’re thankful that he doesn’t tease you for asking him to stay, the atmosphere is still rather uncomfortable for that.
He keeps his back turned to give you some privacy as you undress. Once you finish undressing, you fold your clothes and tuck them into a corner that you were sure wouldn’t get wet.
You cleared your throat once you fully got into the tub, “You can turn around now.”
From your peripheral, you see Nikolai sit down on a stool that was right next to his bathtub. “Do you need help cleaning yourself?” He asks.
You should’ve shaken your head because you’re fully capable of cleaning yourself, but you couldn’t fight back the giddiness in you that manifested at the thought of a physically intimate moment with Nikolai. So you nod.
Nikolai picks up a small towel and rubs it on a bar of soap before putting it on your body. You hoped he wasn’t able to see your red face as you flushed even more when he started moving the towel.
“You aren’t a monster.” He says instead once again, “You haven’t changed at all,” you turned your head to look at him but he didn’t meet your eyes, his eyes focused on your body as he cleaned it. “You’re still the same girl that boarded Sturmhond’ ship. You’re still caring, and thoughtful. You still overthink and stress too much on what other people think of you, but you’re also confident at the same time. You know your worth and you simply want to make sure other people do to.” He moves you hair out of the way as he moves the towel to the back of your neck.
“Actually maybe you aren’t the same girl I met. But you’re not to blame for that.” You didn’t think it was possible but your heartbeat began to thump even harder at feeling his hand, even though it was separated by a towel, on your neck. Oh, and also by his words. You didn’t think he noticed you that much when he was Sturmhond.
Suddenly he looked up and you looked away.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-
“You aren’t the Darkling. You saved me. Well I mean, drüskelle are strong, I admit, but they wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”
You could hear the grin on his face, it was attempt to lighten the mood, to see if you felt better.
“You’re power doesn’t determine what you are, Y/N, how you use it determines that. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t used it unjustly.” He curled his index finger under your chin and put his thumb on your chin to turn your head, so you’d finally be looking at him. “Don’t let your fear of your power determine your worth.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you got lost in his eyes. Yes, you were listening to him and it made your heart ache in a good way at hearing his words, but feeling his touch made it difficult to concentrate.
“Ok,” you whispered. You looked down, fully processing his words. You weren’t a monster. You weren’t a monster.
You weren’t a monster.
Noticing the sides of your lips slowly lift, Nikolai felt a small smile form on his face and lets go of your face. He failed to see how the sides of your lips slightly went down.
Feeling that the atmosphere felt more light, you attempted to make a joke, “Well, are you just going to sit there?”
“Hm?” Nikolai raises an eyebrow at your question. Did you want him out…?
“You’re not going to join me?”
Without missing a beat, Nikolai speaks up, “Do you want me to?” It wasn’t meant to be teasing, but it easily came off as such.
Fully expecting Nikolai to say something a little more…bold, his nonchalant yet teasing question caused you to look away from him, again, feeling embarrassed at your bold “joke.”
Nikolai lets out a laugh that makes you swoon. Saints, the affect this man had on you was embarrassing.
“Saints Y/N, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.” He says, mirroring your previous conversation.
You turn your head back at him and take a moment to figure out what you want to say in return, you decide to say something you’ve heard before. Leaning slightly towards him but still managing to cover your cleavage, you say, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.”
Nikolai freezes completely, not sure how to react to that. Yes, he wants you to commit, he wants you, but do you want him? He’s sure that he’s been interpreting your feelings as romantic correct, but he still had that thought of just maybe, maybe he was wrong.
Nikolai was never one to back off from a challenge however, so he leans forward and rests his forearms of his knees; leaning in closer to your face, “Yes,” he says, “I do.”
He brings one his hands up to the side of your face and cups it, leaning in closer but leaving enough room to still be able to back away if he was reading this all wrong. He looks into your eyes and practically pleads for your approval, for you to let him kiss you.
When all you do is lean closer, Nikolai fully closes the distance and connects his lips with yours.
As one could expect from a kiss with Nikolai, it was passionate and loving and deep. You could feel how deep his feelings for you ran and you could feel all of his feelings. Growing impatient, for some reason, Nikolai grabbed the back of you neck to deepen the kiss. He brought his other hand up to your bottom lip and brushed it down. Realizing what he wanted, you opened your mouth and to your surprise; Nikolai whined into the kiss.
Finding it funny that Nikolai was a whiner, you began to laugh. It started with small giggles but then turned into actual laughs causing Nikolai to pull away and slightly deadpan at you.
When you didn’t stop laughing, Nikolai leaned back and let out a sigh, opting to just let you finish laughing.
“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t take you as a whiner,” you say before you burst out laughing again.
Nikolai continued to watch you laugh with a slightly annoyed, but adoring, expression before brushing your hair out of your face. “You know, you never answered my question.”
You wipe fake tears out of your eyes as you try to calm down, “huh?”
“When I asked if you wanted me to commit to you, you never gave me an answer.”
“I think my answer is quite obvious now.” You let out a soft laugh before Nikolai spoke again.
“Yes well, I want to hear it.” Nikolai leans forwards again but not as close as before, just close enough to where he could you whisper yell, “I want to hear that you want me.” He finishes with a slight smirk.
You look away from him, getting flustered again. He really wanted to hear you profess your feelings for him, huh.
As you were getting flustered you remembered that Nikolai was a whiner. As much as you wanted Nikolai, he was arguably more desperate for you. So why not tease him a little more?
You leaned forward again, not bothering to cover your cleavage anymore, and pressed your lips onto his, but not necessarily kissing him. “Alright my prince,” you whisper out. The smirk on his lips immediately drop as he tries to kiss you again but then you pull away, and before he could whine again, you leaned forward again. “I want you to commit to me. I want you.” Nikolai could barely focus at feeling your lips brush onto his, feeling as if he didn’t kiss you right here right now, he’d go crazy.
Feeling smug, you pull away from him to which he immediately follows. He puts his hand on the back of your neck once again and pulls you forward, connecting your lips again.
He groaned this time at the feeling of your lips on his.
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year
Text
Still be here in the morning?
Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader
Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*
Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D
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It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.
You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.
"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.
"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.
"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"
"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."
"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"
"I'm aware."
"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."
"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."
"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"
Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"
You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."
"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."
"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."
After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.
To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.
He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.
A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.
"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.
"What do you want, Mouse?"
"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."
"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."
"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.
"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.
"Make me."
"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.
"I said, make me, Lantsov."
"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.
Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.
"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.
"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.
"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."
Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.
"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.
Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."
He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.
He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.
He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."
His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.
Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.
Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."
"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.
He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.
Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.
Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.
"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.
Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.
You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.
You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.
Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.
"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.
His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.
"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"It's stupid."
"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.
"Why would I be mad?"
"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.
"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"
"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.
You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"
You shook your head.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded your head.
"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"
You hesitated.
"Well, we've found our problem."
"You don't love me."
"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.
"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."
"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.
You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"
"Honey, you drive me wild."
You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.
You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.
A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."
You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.
fin.
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pr-olvdr · 9 months
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myhairpintrigger · 1 year
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Hi, I just stumbled upon your blog and immediately fell in love with your writing (that darkling fic), so I don't know if you write for Nikolai, but I think that man is a man written by Taylor Swift, so if you could, could you write a fic based on a song “I think he knows” like maybe they're friends but Nikolai has a crush on her and Nikolai is always smug about it and shamelessly flirts with her because he loves getting her all flustered but she just shrugs him off because she believes that Nikolai is always flirty with everyone but Nikolai proved her wrong and just continued on flirting with her until one day she confessed that she also has a crush on him? I don't know if that made sense.
this is my first time writing for Nikolai, admittedly, so I apologise if it isn't the most magical thing you've ever read. I did try though! but ill stand by when I said the entire grishverse was ghostwritten by Taylor swift. there is no questions. PERIOD. btw I love u, anon <333
warnings: none
word count: 2k
I Want You, Bless my Soul
(nikolai lantsov x fem!reader)
-
“One of these days I am going to charm you into a kiss, and then you won’t be able to resist me.”
You scoffed and looked up at your best friend while he stood over the desk you sat at, sketching a bit in your notebook, “A kiss? I bet you offer kisses to all the girls you know.” You countered and glanced back down at your work. 
Nikolai simply shrugged and sat down on the other side of his desk and he crossed his arms over his chest, “Well, there aren’t many girls around here to talk to.” He argued back playfully and reached across the desk to give your nose a little tap. 
“You’re insufferable!” You gasped playfully and then you shook your head, “you should be ashamed, making all the girls around you feel so pretty and special.”
“Does that mean I make you feel pretty and special?” He asked excitedly and you simply shook your head. 
“No, because I know better, Lantsov.”
“Ah. Well. One of these days. You’ll see.” He promised and you rolled your eyes in return. 
-
You stood up on the deck of Nikolai’s ship and drummed your fingers against the hard wood rails while you watched some of the Grisha on the ship work to keep it sailing smoothly. You’d been friends with the blonde prince as long as you could remember, and when he skipped off to do his own business and sail, he’d eagerly invited you to join him. 
Meaning, you were the only person aboard the ship to know he was the Lantsov prince, a secret of which you kept at the utmost importance. You loved the boy with all of your heart- a little bit too deeply- in fact, you were one hundred percent sure that you were in love with your best friend. But the only issue was, he was a natural flirt. It seemed like every girl he spoke to, every time he opened his mouth, every word he said, had someone swooning or falling to their knees. You had accepted a long time ago that you had no shot with the prince and you had made your peace with it. 
That didn’t make it any easier when he came around just to bother you, though. 
Like right now. 
You sat down on a little bench on the deck of the ship and peered out at the water around you, and Nikolai mirthfully approached you and reached out to hand you something. You looked down into his strong hand and saw a little pearl resting in the palm of his hand.
“Look. I found it in one of the oysters we caught.” He said proudly and you gently took the shimmering pearl out of his hand and held it up to the light.
“It’s pretty. What are you gonna do with it?” You asked and placed it back in his hand. 
“Well, I was going to give it to you. Because it’s so lovely, it just reminded me of you. Plus, it sparkles like your eyes or something like that. Was that a romantic enough thing to say?” He asked and winked down at you. 
You scoffed, as you often did in his presence, and took the pearl from him again, “Oh, please. It was just about as cheesy as it gets, you brat.” You replied and he hummed. 
“Well then why are you blushing?” He asked and pointed down at you, wiggling his finger near your face. 
You gaped up at him and you brought your hand up to your face to feel your cheeks which were indeed, quite warm and you scowled at him, “I am not blushing!” You protested, which caught the attention of Tamar nearby. 
She glanced in your direction and then up at the blonde boy in front of you and she grinned, “Oh yeah. You’re blushing. Hard.” She commented and Nikolai pumped his fist in victory. You stood up from the bench and tucked the pearl away in your pocket before you shook your head and stomped off below deck. 
-
The next time the Prince flustered you had to be in front of the Sun Summoner herself, and you couldn’t remember a time where you’d been more lost for words. You stood in his office while he went over some maps with Alina and her friend Mal, who stood awkwardly to the side. You took a guess and figured he did that a lot. Standing off to the side. You were perched on the corner of Nikolai’s desk and you tapped a spot on the map. 
“We gotta be careful here. Big rocks, remember?” You pointed out and he wasted no time in making you a mess. 
He reached down and grabbed your hand off of the map and raised it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles politely, “Ah yes. Big rocks. Not much bigger than the one I’ll put on your finger one day, though.” 
You stared up at him and your jaw almost dropped. He still held your hand in his and you wanted to yank it away and go hide, but half of you wouldn’t allow you to even budge. You let out a breathy, nervous laugh and you shook your head, “Time and place.” You mumbled under your breath and looked away from him but he simply tightened his grip on your hand and grinned. 
“We’d make beautiful children too, Alina, don’t you think? Her bone structure and her eyes and my hair and smile?”
The Sun Saint stood there and let out an awkward laugh before she looked to Mal and he cleared his throat, mentioning something or other about the sea whip. You tugged your hand away from Nikolai and looked down at your lap for a long time before you slid off of the desk and you put your hands into your pockets. 
“I’m going to head to bed I think. It’s been a very long day.” You squeaked and then without another word, you dashed out of his office and went to stand at your favorite spot at the back of the ship. 
You let the brisk night’s air cool your cheeks and you let out a long, frustrated sigh. You hardly thought it was fair that he kept flirting with you, especially when it was just so casual and asinine.  No one was on deck at this time of night and you took advantage of that and leaned over the side of the boat to feel the sea spray against your cheeks. You wanted to slap the smug little smile off of Nikolai’s face every time he made you feel so… giddy. You wanted to scream at him and tell him that it wasn’t fair that he unleashed butterflies in your stomach every time he opened up his beautiful mouth. But most of all, you wanted to smack him in the middle of the chest and tell him just how in love with him you were and just how unfair it was that he teased you relentlessly for it. 
That was why he did it, right?
You wondered for a moment and then finally shook your head. There was no other explanation. You’d known the boy since you were both just children and he’d always been a shameless little flirt with everyone, especially in his teenage years. It made sense that perhaps this was how he interacted. This was just his personality, everybody knew so… right?
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned around with your hands raised, only to feel waves of relief when you saw it was only Nikolai. 
“You scared me.” You commented with a sigh and the boy shrugged and then he let out a laugh, a beautiful sound that brought a smile to your lips. 
“Yeah I can tell. You look very menacing with your hands up like that. I almost feared for my life.” He teased and you rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him back before you turned back to the water, silence settling over the two of you. 
“So,” Nikolai began and leaned up against the rails next to you, “Is this the part where we kiss? In front of the ocean, under the light of the moon?” He singsonged and sidled up closer to you. 
You turned and looked at him with a frown, “You have to stop that.” You said quietly and then bit down on your bottom lip. 
“Stop what?” He asked cluelessly.
You studied his face and then you shook your head, “Nikolai, I mean you need to stop messing with me like this. I’m not just every girl. They all swoon for you and they all giggle and blush when you talk to them but for me it’s just… so much more complex.”
He raised his eyebrow curiously as if he didn’t understand what you meant and you let out a long sigh and rubbed your face, already blushing, “Nikolai, I am in love with you. I have been for years, and I probably will be for a long time. And when you sit and flirt with me like this… make me feel special, make me feel so giddy, it makes it even harder for me because that’s how you talk to every girl!” You said, hiding your face in your hands. 
There was a long pause in which you could only hear the ocean around you along with the wind, when suddenly the boy next to you let out a loud, amused laugh. Your face turned even redder and you went to walk away before he grabbed onto your arm and he pulled you back to him and grinned down at you.
“Oh, y/n. My sweet, sweet girl. Do you ever hear me say these things to other girls? Really.” He asked and you blinked up at him. 
You knew he had a charming demeanor, but come to think of it, he’d never made comments like the ones he made to you to every other girl he ever met. You stared up at him blankly and he laughed again, a beautiful sound that made you want to melt into his arms entirely. 
“I’ll take that as a no.” He replied and then he let out a soft sigh, “I don’t mess about with other girls, I don’t tease them relentlessly like I do you. And it’s all for good reason. You’re simply the only girl I have my sights on, and saints are you a slippery little worm. I think I’ve finally got you and then you’re running off and hiding.” 
Shock was evident on your face, this much you were sure of, and you shook your head once, “You have got to be kidding me.” Was all you could manage and Nikolai laughed again and he reached down to cup your cheeks. 
“My pretty y/n. I’d never joke about such things.” He said, leaning closer to your face. 
“Oh for the love of the saints, Nikolai.” You groaned and stood up on your toes to finally greet his lips with your own. 
The kiss was met with much eagerness from the Prince and he only pulled you closer to him as he kissed you back with a sweetness unlike anything you’d ever felt. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach and when he finally pulled back, his grin was highlighted by the moon as he stared down at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world to him. 
“I do believe I told you that one day I’d charm you into a kiss.” He pointed out smugly and you grabbed the collar of his shirt and shook your head. 
“I think I’m the one that charmed you.” You remarked and pulled him down to where your noses brushed. 
“More than you’ll ever know.” He replied softly before he brought another heavenly kiss to your lips.
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thesuntomyshadows · 3 months
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Y/N: *Tending to Nikolai's injuries* Take off your shirt.
Nikolai: *Raises his eyebrows*
Y/N: Unlike some people, I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning.
Nikolai: Are you sure? Because viewing my naked chest has caused many people to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me.
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heliads · 8 months
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can you make a nikolai lantsov x reader?? i've been thinking about one where reader was one of sturmhond's crew as a tidemaker and they were together for a long time, but when nikolai became king, the two separated because royalty had done too much harm to r family and she didn't want to become one of them (besides her being Grisha). maybe after RoW they finally talk and get back together??
yesss pirate!reader x nikolai my beloved
masterlist
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If Nikolai Lantsov were to regret anything in his life, anything at all, it would be how he handled her. It’s not that he regrets her, he wants to make that clear. He couldn’t if he tried, and Nikolai has tried many times to get over her, to find some flaw out of an improbability of perfection so he might not feel as achingly heartbroken as he always does.
But when Nikolai lies awake at night, unable to sleep despite a gilded bedroom and dozens of lush pillows and luxurious blankets, the worries troubling his mind are not of a country to run, nor the endless cycles of politics constantly reinventing new problems to crush his world beneath his boot. No, he thinks of one woman. He thinks of you.
Before Nikolai was the latest Lantsov king, before he was a homeward bound prince, he was a boy, and a boy who wanted to run. A much younger Nikolai in body and spirit had signed onto a pirate ship the second his guards turned their backs. It was a terrible decision for a golden prince to make, but the best choice for the bastard who never wanted to see another silver spoon again unless he was stealing it.
When Nikolai was a young man, he determined that he would be the captain of a ship, and a captain always needs a crew he can depend on to carry him through thick and thin. Nikolai sailed to countless foreign shores, finding friends and enemies in oceans sapphire and stormy, cerulean and calm. He wore dashing waistcoats and ruined them with the blood of slashed throats. He blockaded and benefitted small towns with equal joy.
And, most importantly of all, Nikolai found his first mate. It is a difficult thing, of course, choosing someone who could be your successor. If he picked someone a little too captivating, he ran the risk that they could depose him in a mutiny. If he gave that spot to someone the crew hated, though, his leadership would be undermined all the same.
He was just starting to think it would be impossible to find the right sort of figure, and then this young woman he’d never met before had simply walked up and asked for it. Technically, it wasn’t such an easy meeting as that. She had actually stolen one of the rowboats off of his ship while it was tied to their ship in the harbor with her abilities as a Tidemaker, then used the water to ferry her over to him.
From anyone else, Sturmhond would consider that a punishable offense. However, the privateer in him was also a politician, and one used to fronts and facades at that. Nikolai looked at the woman in front of him and realized that she wasn’t looking to use him as an avenue for a coup to captainship. She’d done her research and figured out that he was the best captain to serve under, and was simply ensuring that she made a good impression.
There is nothing Nikolai can appreciate like a fine display of showmanship, so he’d accepted her acceptance of his non-offer and told her to move her belongings into the first mate’s cabin that night. The crew woke up to a new member, and they took to her as readily as Nikolai himself.
After that, it was easy. Nikolai skimmed over frothy waves and he had someone by his side, a proper companion. He has liked his crew heartily all this time, but Y/N– he likes Y/N even more. Saints, he loves her. It takes him a while to realize that, but he does. Once that knowledge is common to him, the fact that he could have felt anything else is nothing short of absurd.
He’d given her his name a long time ago. Part of it, at least. They’d been on night guard together one shadowy twilight and she’d begged him for some sort of name she could use. Sturmhond, although great for inspiring fear and leadership as he saw fit, wasn’t personal enough for a friend, and Captain was too formal. Nikolai had witnessed many years of his father forcing everyone to refer to him as the king and nothing more. Never will he force a title on anyone.
So he’d said Nik, she could call him Nik, and that was more than good enough. It feels like cheating, a little, to have her bypass his real name and go straight to the familiar nickname. If anyone could do it, though, it would be her. Captains aren’t supposed to have favorites among their crew, but this is Y/N, and he loves her, so she calls him Nik, and he– he lets it happen.
All this truth, this love, and he never told her who he was. Not by choice. How could he? Y/N hated the monarchy, and so did he. The elder Lantsovs did not treat Grisha kindly, only tolerating them in the confines of the Little Palace. There was nothing Nikolai could do to protect them, to protect her, half as well in Os Alta as he could as Sturmhond, so he kept it a secret.
You could call that selfishness. You would be correct in doing so. Nikolai did not tell Y/N he was a prince because he was terrified of how she would push him away. In the end, there was nothing he could do to avoid that. The Darkling called on his help in capturing Alina Starkov, and Nikolai revealed that last ace in his sleeve the night before he was to dock in Ravka and personally escort the Sun Saint and her friends back to Os Alta.
He will never forget how Y/N had looked at him when she finally learned what he was, not as long as he shall live. He had asked her to come to his office, to lock the door so no one could hear. Y/N has been host to a great many of his secrets, good and bad and terrible, so she thought she could handle just one more.
She was wrong. Nikolai stood before her, and said, “I am the son of the king.”
She’d laughed, actually, but that had dried up when she realized he wasn’t joking. “No. You can’t be serious. All this time we’ve been out here, and you haven’t told me? You would have told me.”
Her eyes were desperate, pleading. Y/N L/N is one of the finest pirates Nikolai ever had the pleasure of meeting. He’s seen her go into no-luck gunfights with a grin on her face, and now she looks like all of her luck has finally run out. How awful, that he would be the one to finally crush her spirit underfoot.
“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” he tries to explain.
Y/N shakes her head. “No. I don’t like it when Tolya borrows my knives to slice fruit. I don’t like it when we stay in small towns too long. Nik, it’s not that I don’t like it that you’re a royal. It’s that you’ve betrayed me. You know how the Lantsov kings have treated Grisha, how they’ve treated anyone who isn’t an elite.”
It occurs to Nikolai that this might be how he loses her, in truth. “Y/N, please. We can change everything. Why do you think I came out here in the first place? I want to help Ravka. I want to help my people. Just come with me. We can do it together.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “No. I don’t want to be one of them.”
Not like he is, at least. Nikolai is endlessly, ineffably them, but she doesn’t have to be. She’s safe from them. From him. “Y/N. I love you, and I want you with me. Please, come to Os Alta with me.”
She turns to him abruptly, eyes violent. “No. That’s final, Nik.”
Ah. So it ends. And so Nikolai had gone to bed alone, heart a bitter mess of hurt, and he had disembarked from his ship with Alina and Mal and the rest. He had taken them to Os Alta, he had reclaimed his position on the throne, and all the while, he knew that he would never want anything in the world half as strongly as he just wanted her. 
It’s funny, isn’t it? Nikolai is a king now, and despite all his reach and power, the one thing he desires most will never be in his grasp again. She will always be the sea’s, and, as of late, that means she will never be Nikolai’s. Nikolai is chained to the crown; he will never leave it, he can never leave it. Y/N will be out there on the storm-tossed waves forever, as wild as the night he met her, and that will cause him grief until the day that he dies.
Nikolai grows up and it gets no better. He watches friends lose themselves to war and misery. He wears the crown upon his head, and then, surrounded by the clamoring voices of those who wanted him gone, he relinquishes it. Nikolai had tried to do his best while he was in office, but, walking back from the meeting with a strangely light feeling upon his head and shoulders where a great burden no longer rests, he wonders if it had ever been enough.
No one can ever be enough for Ravka. This he has known since he was a child. He had tried, though. The trying should at least get him somewhere. Nikolai passes blind laps around the Great Palace, attempting to remember every garden and room before he leaves it. He’ll have to pack his bags at some point, move out and find somewhere else to call a home after so many years in this one place.
Zoya has already offered for him to stay here, albeit in a different room. He’s a valuable advisor thanks to all his years on the throne, and he’s still as good a diplomat as ever. Nikolai will probably take her up on it; he wants to help Ravka, and this seems like the best way to do it.
About a week later, Zoya knocks on the door of his new rooms before letting herself inside when he invites her in. She’s taking to her new royal title very well, even if this seems to include her stealing his tea far more times than is strictly proper. 
This time, though, she isn’t here to stop and talk. Instead, Zoya hovers hesitantly at his door, and says, “There’s someone here to see you.”
Nikolai arches a brow. “I didn’t realize relinquishing my crown meant I got to have the Dragon Queen herself here to announce my visitors. Will you do this every time?”
Zoya laughs sarcastically, but her voice is still stilted when she adds on, “Just this time. She says she knows you. She was on your crew. First mate.”
Nikolai swears his heart stops in his chest. This is– no, it couldn’t be. He told Zoya about Y/N a long time ago. She’d asked why he hadn’t been more invested in finding a suitor and he’d admitted that he was pushing it off for as long as possible, knowing he couldn’t love unless it was her.
He nods a little frantically. “Alright. Where is she?”
“Here,” says a voice behind Zoya, and then the queen of Ravka is disappearing back down the hall and Nikolai is alone in a room with someone else and– and it’s Y/N, Y/N after so long, and he doesn’t really know how to think straight, let alone say anything at all.
She pauses over the threshold before finally going inside and shutting the door behind you. “I suppose I should be glad you’re speechless. Shows you still care, at least.”
“Of course I do,” Nikolai chokes out. “But– you do too? You’re here.”
She inclines her head, taking a seat on the chair opposite him. “I came as soon as I heard that you would no longer be king. I thought it would be hard. To lose this one last thing from your family.”
Nikolai frowns. “You hate my family.”
“I don’t hate you,” she says simply, “and even if they treated you harshly, they were still your blood. That means more than any of us want to admit, I think.”
Nikolai sighs. “You’ve always been the wise one, Y/N.”
She smiles at that. “Isn’t that why you hired me, Nik?”
The nickname again. His heart contracts painfully in his chest. “I should have told you,” he blurts out. “I should have told you everything.”
“I knew a lot,” she replies, “Enough to love you. I’m glad for every moment. There would have been fewer if you had told me sooner.”
Nikolai grimaces at the truth in that. “So you’re alright with me being a Lantsov now?”
She furrows her brow. “I heard some whispers that you aren’t entirely a Lantsov at all.”
He can’t really argue with that. “Who am I, then?”
“You’re Nik,” she tells him, “My Nik. My captain. And yes, my king, even if you’ve given over the throne. I always kept track of what you were doing during your reign. I was always proud of you.”
A bright burst of pride flares in his chest. “What do you advise I do now, if my reign is over?”
She stands, extends a hand to him. “We could always go back to a good time. The sea only gets bigger.”
Nikolai looks up at her, and he thinks– this is what he’s missed. Nikolai makes a fine king, but he has always missed adventure. He’ll have that now. And, when they both get old and tired, they can come back here, and continue making policies now that they’ve lived the lives of both the rich and the outlaw. It sounds wonderful to Nikolai.
He takes her hand. “Shall we go, then?”
She smiles. Radiant. He loves her just as much as he did at the start. “I think we shall.”
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syllvane · 1 year
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soldier, poet, king - tolya yul-bataar x reader
a/n: reader is sister of nikolai, feminine pronouns are used but no physical characteristics are ever described. ty for all of the love <3
Your brother would fire him if he found out that you had even considered Tolya in a romantic way. Not out of any disdain for him- out of anyone you could have grown fondness for, you were sure that Nikolai would prefer Tolya over the numerous suitors that waited for you back at Os Alta, but out of a protectiveness of you, as if you weren't perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.
“What are you thinking about?” Tamar asked, leaning against the wooden side of the ship, bright eyes looking at you.
”Nothing.”
“You know I can tell when you're lying.”
”When has that ever stopped me?”
Tamar scoffed, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.
“Never,” She said, her eyes shining. “I don't know why I even ask, your heart only beats like that when you're thinking about my brother.”
Your heart jumped and Tamar let out another breathy laugh, feeling it without any effort.
“Too easy.” She said smugly and you rolled your eyes.
“Not funny.”
“Speak for yourself, moya tsarevna.” She said and you cringed at the title.
“As soon as Nik becomes king, I’m banning you from using that title.”
“Not Tolya though?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and gave her a look.
“I’m going to push you off this boat.”
A firm arm went around your shoulders, startling you and from the other side of you, Tolya grinned down at you.
“Now you know I love you, but why are you threatening to throw my sister off the boat?” He asked jokingly and you prayed to every Saint that your heart wasn’t going as fast as you felt it was.
You looked at Tamar and instantly regretted it, barely contained laughter on her lips.
“As first mate, I demand it.” You said stoically in response, a small smile on your lips and Tolya raised his eyebrows, removing his arm from your shoulder.
“Well, we should at least run it by Sturmhond.” 
“Oh who are we kidding, he’d choose you over me everyday.” You joked, able to relax more now that you weren’t in direct contact with Tolya.
“I’ll choose you then.” Tolya said and your smile softened at the sweetness of the sentiment.
“Spoken like a poet.” Tamar teased and Tolya scoffed, but beamed at the accusation.
“Do you think you would be happy, living a life like the one Nikolai and I had?”
“Back in the castle?” Tolya asked and you nodded. “I mean, I know you’re both going to go back eventually. Me and Tamar will be there as your guards.”
“Not as guards though, as… forget it, I’m just being silly.”
Tolya looked at you, studied for you for a moment with only the moonlight illuminating your features, peering off into seemingly endless sea.
“It’s not silly.” He said, moving so that he was ever so slightly closer to you. “I’ve never really thought about it before. Do you think I’d make a good noble?”
“No,” You answered quickly. “You’re too kindhearted. You’re too good.”
“So are you.” Tolya argued and you smiled.
“And I’m hardly the picture of good noble, I ran off with my older brother to play pirate- sorry privateer.”  You said. “I’ve always been a better soldier than princess, much to my mother’s dismay. I used to sneak off and follow Nikolai to his basic training instead of go to etiquette classes.”
Tolya snorted and you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.
“I’m glad you skipped your etiquette classes, I like you how you are.”
Your heart jumped. Tolya looked over at you but didn’t say anything.
“Why do you ask? About me being a noble?” He pressed and you shook your head.
“As much as maybe me and Nik want it to, this can’t last forever. We have to go home at some point, him to try to take the throne that Vasily has never wanted, and me to sit around as set dressing, I suppose. To get married. I just… it really is silly, Tolya.” You said, standing up and preparing to walk away before he stood up and quickly caught your wrist, making you look at him.
“Tell me.” He said softly, letting go of your wrist. “Please.”
You took a step closer to him before grabbing his hand and putting it on the cloth covering your heart.
“Do you really not know?” You took a deep breath, painfully aware of how fast your heart was racing. “I’m not asking for marriage or anything like that, I’m asking… I don’t know what I’m asking.”
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
His hands moved to your shoulders and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours gently. He pulled away, his hands still on you.
“As long as you will have me, I will be here.” 
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sophierequests · 1 year
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i have a request, my love! nikolai lantsov x reader
y/n is the sunshine-y, sweet person who literally brightens up any room. and she caught nikolai's eye and he tries to make his move but everytime he tries to talk to her he finds himself... well, unable to get proper words out. he can't string together a single sentence. y/n picks up on this and teases him ('cause he's obviously known as a flirt) and makes it a bit harder before she finally asks him out herself
you take my breath away
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Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x f!Reader
A/N: *screams because this is such a cute idea* Omg omg omg, I LOVE THAT IDEA, EL! Nikolai being nervous and flustered >>> Thank you sm for the request, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy reading this <333
Summary: What happens to the oh so charming Nikolai Lantsov when he starts crushing on a someone that - quite literally - takes away his breath?
Genre: Comedy, Fluff
Word Count: 4.4K
Warnings: Mention of sword fighting, pining, oblivious!Nikolai, slightly suggestive ending if you squint, Zoya being an icon
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“Zoya, I really don’t think that all of this,” he ambiguously gestured at the array of files in front of him, “is as good of an idea as you think it is.”
The Squaller groaned, hauling the papers towards herself again. The two of them had been wasting their time in his sitting room for hours on end, flipping through files and files of eligible royal women that could become Nikolai’s future wife. It was hell - for both of them - but Ravka needed a queen. So as king, it was his duty to find someone that could rule alongside him.
If he would be completely truthful, he already had someone in mind. Someone that was roughly his age, not promised to anyone else and of royal blood. Meaning, that someone would tick all of the necessary boxes.
You were one of the rather newer Ladies at Ravkan court. Your parents were a duke and duchess who he didn't necessarily remember meeting. Yet, ever since he first laid his eyes on you, he was absolutely smitten with you. You'd be an excellent choice. He really liked to think that. You got along with everyone you interacted with - at least to his knowledge -, you were kind, well-spirited and utterly lovely. You were a literal ray of sunshine, and he couldn’t get enough of you. It was almost like you were born to be a queen - his queen.
Everything seemed to be so perfect. The only issue was that he couldn't even get out one word before his brain went into shutdown when you were around. He had tried and tried to strike up a conversation with you, only to fail miserably. It was as if all of his usually flirty demeanour had been stripped off of him, and he was left with the confidence of an insecure stuttering teenage boy. He had been with countless women before but never had he been left this helpless.
The first time he attempted talking to you, was probably already enough of an embarrassment for you to never give in to any of his advances.
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Nikolai had just finished another terribly draining conference and, as much as tried to get his mind off of all things political, he still had another dreadful load of paperwork waiting for him once he reached his sitting room.
He has been so lost in thought, that he didn't register the other person that was coming around the corner. And with both of you not paying any real attention to where you were going, you ran straight into him at full speed. But before he could - quite literally - knock you off of your feet, his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady. It took you a minute to break free from your daze when you noticed who you were currently staring at.
"Oh Saints! Your Highness! I'm so incredibly sorry. I should have watched where I was going." You apologized profusely, taking a step back to give him a bit more personal space.
"Don't apologize, it's fine!" He started grinning like a fool after he realized who he was talking to. Your hair looked slightly out of place - probably a side effect from almost toppling over - but somehow, you still managed to look absolutely magnificent. His heart couldn’t help but skip a beat while he watched a faint blush rise to your cheeks.
And when a wide smile began to grace your lips, he almost thought that he would pass out. In a treacherous motion, he could feel that his own cheeks started to warm up now. How he hated this.
"Oh, thank you, Your Highness! I have just been so lost in thought that I didn't watch where I was going."
"Please, it's call me- I mean, please call me Vas- Nikola! Nikolai. Please call me Nikolai." Well done, he couldn't even introduce himself correctly anymore.
"Alright Nikolai," you let the name roll over your tongue slowly as if you were trying to savour its taste, "I'm not one for titles either, so feel free to call me Y/N." He wanted to answer, to say or do pretty much anything else, instead of just gaping at you as if you had grown a second head.
You had expected him to offer you a cheeky comment or a flirtatious smirk in response, but the cogs in his brain still seemed to process your words. It was odd, and not at all what you had expected. You had heard stories about the smug and cocky Ravkan king, who was never too shy to hand out brash compliments or whisper promiscuous promises into the ears of any young woman that would give him more than one minute of her time. The man standing in front of you seemed to be anything but that.
Before you could open your mouth to break the uncomfortable silence, a voice calling out his name and the clicking of heels could be heard coming from the corridor right next to him.
"Nikolai? Nikolai! Did you forget that we still have some correspondence to take care of today?" A slightly agitated Zoya came into view, eying you from head to toe, however, still giving you a polite nod.
"I should better get going. I didn’t mean to keep you from your work, Nikolai. Enjoy yourselves!” You gave him one last smirk before turning on your heels and continuing your way down the corridor.
“Thank you!” He didn’t even know what exactly he was thanking you for. “Have a great evening!” Zoya stifled a snort when she heard that.
“Nikolai, it’s not even time for lunch yet. The poor girl will think that she’s the one going crazy.” She remarked, her eyes drifting from watching you leave to Nikolai’s still mildly flustered state. She’d definitely remember this.
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“Why don’t you just marry Lady Y/L/N? She fits the criteria, she probably doesn’t plan to strangle you in your sleep, and you seem to have found quite the liking in her. That’s probably the best choice you have.” Zoya exclaimed, falling back into her chair as she continued to stare Nikolai down.
“I can’t.”
“And the reason for that is…? You need to give me more than that. I may be extremely lucky to have this many talents, but mind reading sadly isn’t one of them.”
“Keeping secrets isn’t really one of your many talents either, Zoya.” Nikolai averted his gaze, thinking that looking through another mountain of profiles would be way more comfortable than having to explain why he didn’t think that courting you would be possible.
“Lantsov, you’re not getting any younger, and you’re sure as hell not getting any prettier, no matter how long you’re trying to postpone this. Just tell me, and we can move on!” She was seconds away from tossing his royal ass out of the window but getting thrown in prison for the murder of the literal king wasn’t too desirable.
“I’m certain that she believes me to be an absolute fool.” The young king sighed, hiding the embarrassment on his face with one hand.
“Many people do. It would surprise me if your future wife wouldn’t think of you as such.”
“No, no, you don’t understand. I can’t even formulate one coherent sentence whenever she is around, and it is driving me mad! Whenever I attempt to make a move on her, every single logical thought abandons the ship and leaves me gaping like a fish on land.” He mumbled defeatedly. “She has to assume I’m just looking for an excuse not to be around her.”
This time, Zoya didn’t hold back the laugh she had been holding in. She didn’t know what she expected, but this definitely wasn’t it.
“Won’t you look at that? Ravka’s Sweetheart gets all hot and bothered in the presence of a girl he likes.” She took a sip from the glass of wine she was holding before returning her attention to a sulking Nikolai. “She’s the most suitable choice, Nikolai. Keep on pursuing her, until you’re one hundred per cent sure that she isn’t worth it. And maybe she thinks your nervousness is endearing? That would be a bit pathetic, but that seems to be your type.”
Apparently, Zoya also seemed to have a gift for clairvoyance, because her last two statements held more truth than she had envisioned.
You had picked up on Nikolai’s odd behaviour whenever he was around you quite soon after that first hallway encounter. At first, you thought that there had to be something wrong with you. How else could it be explained that you were the only girl at court he just couldn’t hold a conversation with? But soon enough you realized that it wasn’t apprehension, but genuine fluster that made him act like this. And it felt terrible admitting it, but you enjoyed using this information against him.
It had been three days since your last brief encounter with the king, and your mind was putting your quest of teasing him on the back burner. That was until you silently crept into the library of the Grand Palace, only to find him hunched over a heap of books, occasionally taking notes or letting out a huffed breath.
“Nikolai?” You mused, sauntering over to him with an innocent smile on your lips. The blond had to do a double-take when he saw you appear from behind the shelves. Saints, someone should really open a window.
“Lad- Y/N!” He gave you a strained smile, slyly straightening his back and smoothing out his sleeves. Did his hair sit properly? Did his breath smell? Did he-
“What are you doing here this late?” You leaned against the desk opposite Nikolai, your upper body slightly bent over the table, very visibly accentuating your cleavage. You really would be the death of him.
He haggled for the right words to say, but everything inside his mind screamed at him to abort the mission. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not when the two of you were completely alone, and you looked like a literal Saint.
“Reading.” He forced out, immediately regretting that he even opened his mouth.
“Oh?” You asked quizzically, rounding the table to stand beside him, giving yourself a better look at the books in front of him. One of your hands rested on the backrest of his chair - dangerously close to touching his neck or playing with his hair - and the other hand laid on the edge of the desk. “What are you reading?” You could have just turned the book around to see for yourself, but you were set on toying with him for a bit.
“Ravkan and Fjerdan poeti- political relationships.” He had to stifle a cough after he felt the soft breeze of your breath hit his neck. You were close. Very close.
“Care for some company?” Nikolai’s eyes met yours as he considered the possibility of having you stay here. He would probably get nothing done, but he had the chance to finally make a move. That’s what he imagined, at least.
“Gladly.”
“Very well then.” That’s all you needed to hear before pulling out your own novel and sitting down in the chair right next to him.
As he had already suspected, he couldn’t even get through one page without allowing his eyes to wander towards you. And whenever he caught himself doing so, he had already forgotten what he had read only mere seconds before. He knew that you were quite literally just trying to read your book, but even that simple gesture made his heart beat a thousand times faster.
“Oh dear!” You uttered after taking a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner. “I’ve been in here for almost three hours! I should really leave you alone now, Nikolai. I still have a few duties to fulfil.” A faint chuckle left your lips, as you finished speaking, watching the man next to you gawk at the clock in disbelief. Three hours had passed, and he had neither finished any of his work nor managed to ask you out. Maybe he should allow Zoya to kill him. He supposed that death would be more welcoming than whatever little spiel fate had concocted for him.
There were two more instances of you absolutely giving him hell. And oddly, both of them included a territory that he should’ve had the upper hand in. The training grounds.
Nikolai wasn’t too keen on wasting any thought about sparring or other physical activities today. But staying inside the Palace would result in Zoya berating him about finally choosing a wife, so he preferred prancing around with a sword for a few hours.
However, his attention was promptly seized by hearing a burst of loud wholehearted laughter coming from the direction of the archery area. Without thinking, he allowed himself to take a look at whatever was going on over there.
He watched you talking to one of the archery instructors, a wide smile on your face as you excitedly listened to her while she explained something to you. You looked like some sort of mythical creature out of a folksong and he couldn’t help but smile at that thought.
Something inside him told him to move and before he could even start considering all of the negative outcomes of that thought, he already began walking towards you.
“Your Highness!” The woman next to you gave him a curt nod as she noticed him approaching. You felt a grin tug at the corners of your lips as you saw who she was greeting.
“Good afternoon, may I ask what is going on here?” Nikolai tried his best to not let his gaze wander over to you. He was sure that if he’d spend too much time looking at you, he would lose his capacity to form sentences again.
“I was just about to teach Lady Y/L/N how to properly shoot an arrow. She seems to be rather interested in the craft, but I sadly don’t have too much time today to show her everything.” The teacher rasped, letting her fingers run over the wooden part of the bow.
“As I mentioned earlier, I can also come back another ti-”
“I could show you.” Both of your gazes instantly flicked over to the young king, who was currently cursing himself for not being able to just shut up. Now he had to run with it.
“Are you sure?” You asked softly, raising an eyebrow to underline your question. “You don’t have to. I assume you’re terribly busy.”
“No, I, uhm, I insist.” He reassured, taking the bow from the instructor and signalling to her that he would take over now.
Only when he thought about what he was actually supposed to do, he started to realize what he had gotten himself into.
“Archery is a delicate skill.” He began, handing you the bow and arrow. “Everything stands and falls with how adept your aim is.” You took the arrow and adjusted it on the bowstring, imitating the posture you had seen many times before. Nikolai stood behind you, carefully monitoring your moves, whilst also trying not to get overwhelmed by your closeness. “Try to, you know, uhm, aim. Aim for the heart, I mean.” Saints, he sounded stupid.
“Like this?” You asked smugly, leaning back a bit closer to him and roughly pointing the arrow in the direction of the training puppet’s chest.
“No, you need- you have to-” He took a deep breath, stepping even closer to you now. “Look.” Both his hands found their way to yours. One helped you steady your grip on your bow, while the other corrected your aim ever so slightly. Your skin felt like lightning underneath his fingertips, and for a moment, he was glad that he could simply visualize his thoughts without having to embarrass himself by being a stuttering mess.
He pulled the arm that held onto the arrow back a bit, permitting you to shoot. However, he completely underestimated your proximity, especially the proximity to your elbows. Whether that was because of his lack of archery mentorship experience or simply because he was too focused on you was something he didn't want to answer. As soon as you let go of the arrow, your elbow flew back, right into his chest with full force, causing him to stumble backwards.
“Nikolai!” You yelped, cringing at the sight of the violently coughing blond behind you. This was not how any of you had hoped this would turn out. "Saints, are you alright!?"
“Good shot." He choked out as you hastily dropped the bow to help him stand. Against all odds, the arrow had gone straight into the centre of the target, however, you had other worries to tend to.
"Did I hurt you?" Your hands held on tightly to the fabric of his sleeves, fearing that one measly blow might have managed to knock the air right out of him.
"Fine. I mean, I'm fine." He sputtered, admittedly distracted by the feeling of your hands on his biceps. Your touch was practically scorching his skin without even having to make skin contact. He was definitely going insane.
"We really should stop making violence the climax of our interactions."
This wouldn't ring true, of course.
The next time you ventured down to the makeshift training grounds a few days later, you were met with the sight of Nikolai and Tolya practising their sword fighting skills. You kept an eye on them for a while before actually venturing down to the men.
It was as if Nikolai could sense your presence because as soon as you stepped closer to the platform, his gaze met yours. This brief distraction gave Tolya enough time to deliver one heavy swing to the base of his sparring partner's sword, disarming him in the blink of an eye.
Nikolai stared at the discarded sword and then back up at the Shu man in front of him. He rarely ever lost these kinds of duels, especially not because of some minor mistake like losing his focus. Things such as the size or competence of his opponent didn't matter substantially, since he had the advantage of being quick on his feet and the knowledge on how to outsmart the majority of his competition. Only losing because you were around seemed to be another act of fate telling him that he wasn't able to function properly when you were around.
"Lady Y/L/N." The mountain of a man greeted you happily, curtly shaking hands with Nikolai before walking off to bother his sister and her wife.
Again, the king seemed to have a frog stuck in his throat. He just couldn't get a word to leave his mouth. Instead, he continued to ogle at you with a hint of humiliation flashing over his features.
This time barely anyone could really blame him for that though. Your usually bright and well-put-together wardrobe, consisting of colourful dresses or professional-looking robes, we're now replaced by the suitable training attire one would expect a Lady to frown at.
Unable to string a coherent sentence together, he raised his eyebrows, vaguely motioning up and down your body with the hope that you would understand his unsaid question. Saints, he really felt stupid.
"Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?" You laughed, skipping up the stairs to face him properly. If your eyes weren't trying to deceive you, you could have sworn that he was blushing when you approached him. "Or did my utterly enchanting appearance simply take away your breath?" He gave you an unintelligible answer before just nodding in defeat.
“It’s just that, uhm, Lady- I mean, it’s just not wh-” He attempted futilely, but you were quick to cut him off.
“I know, I know. This flattering article of clothing is not really what people would expect me to wear. But I thought it would be nice to get some training done, or else my joints might begin to rust.”
“Training?” Nikolai blurted out, utterly bewildered. It wasn’t entirely unusual for the women at court to receive some sort of self-defence training - not all royal men were as decent as he was - but it was pretty unlikely for them to indulge in actual combat training.
“I used to sword fight with my older brothers whenever I had the time to do so. I’m not particularly good at it though.” That was a slight lie. You didn’t necessarily look the part, but in reality, you were talented when it came to dealing with a sword. However, that was a fact you’d rather keep to yourself, not wanting others to see you as brash or brutish.
“Oh.” He grinned, a new idea on how to get over his nervousness popped into his head. Maybe a nice little training session would do your relationship some good.
“Oh?”
“Do you, uhm, want me to- Would you like me to train with you?” He internally patted himself on the shoulder for finally managing to string together one mildly coherent sentence. And he could pat himself on the shoulder once more when he noticed the playful nature of your expression.
“If you dare.” You teased, picking up the discarded sparring sword off of the ground.
Both of you readied yourselves - you giving him a short bow before taking the position across from him. With the motion of a hand, he signalled to begin, being quick to do so.
His first move was bold, way too bold for it to actually be effective. You parried his blow with an agile countermove, warding him off strongly enough to force him to take a step back. This dance continued for a while longer, with only a few attacks actually coming from you, while you were mainly busying yourself with fighting off his advances.
There was one move you weren’t able to fight off.
He had only retracted his hand for a split second before he sprang forward again, a fierce blow disarming you immediately. However, that wasn’t the end of it. You could’ve still reached for the weapon, but he quickly blocked that move with his own, putting the unsharpened blade to your throat and pulling you against his chest. None of that was done with any real force, but his brashness still managed to catch you slightly off-guard.
You didn’t let allow him to bathe in his supposed victory any more than needed. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you. You cocked your head to the side just enough to face him. He was already slightly overwhelmed by you being pinned against his chest, so you knew that any sense of flirtatiousness coming from you, would make his brain go into shutdown.
It took you one cheeky wink to make him gape at you again. So without thinking about it, your foot slid behind his, abruptly bringing it forward to make him lose balance. He stumbled for a moment before clumsily falling backwards, however, also taking you down with him.
With a groan coming from Nikolai, you tumbled right on top of him, staying on his chest for a second to catch your breath. When you dared to open your eyes, your face was only inches from his. If either of you had decided to be especially bold, you would have probably finally put each other out of your self-imposed misery. However, neither of you dared to do so.
You barely saw him the following week. Which shouldn’t have been such a bad thing if the failed training session from the week prior wasn’t so engrained in both of your minds. You wanted to see him. No, you needed to see him. It was time to end your teasing spree - even though you did thoroughly enjoy it - and make the first move. Because Saints know whether Nikolai would ever have it in him to ask you out himself.
“Nikolai?” You cracked open the door to his sitting just enough to look inside. His eyes snapped to meet yours, the previous tiredness vanishing from his chestnut-coloured eyes. He gave you an inviting nod, and you accepted his offer gracefully.
“Lady Y/N- Lady- I mean-” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry, this, this is starting to get embarrassing. It’s just that-”
“I know.” You stopped him in his ramblings, only leaving him with a confused expression.
“You know?” He took a sharp breath, suddenly feeling as if a rug had been pulled from beneath his feet.
“You haven’t been that subtle over the last few weeks, so yes, Nikolai. I know that you have feelings for me.” You watched as his face went through at least a hundred emotions, ranging from relief to shock.
“Wait,” He paused, his brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “You were aware of my feelings the entire time?”
“That’s what I’m implying.” Now he genuinely felt like an idiot.
“You did all of that teasing on purpose?”
“Well, I wouldn’t really call it teasing. I was just waiting for you to make the first move.” You gave him a playful wink, sitting down at the edge of his desk right in front of him in a last act of riling him up. “But I figured that I didn’t want to wait until I’m old and wrinkly, so I might as well take matters into my own hand.”
“Take matters into-” You didn’t allow him to finish, instead pressing a brash kiss against his lips. This could either go terribly wrong or terribly right.
Thankfully, Nikolai was ready to answer this question. All of a sudden, all of his nervousness seemed to have vanished into thin air. With a swift move, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you off the desk and into his lap whilst returning the kiss with even more urgency. He didn’t regret not making the first move now. At last, there were no words left to be said.
“Does that mean that I can finally stop wasting my time looking for your future bride?” Zoya called into the room, almost causing you to fall off of his lap. “I suppose they won’t be needed anymore.”
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Taglist:
Grishaverse in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light
Nikolai Lantsov: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaye-here @maximoffgxrl
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NIKOLAI LANTSOV MY LOVE
Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded
Salt In The Wound
Request: Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded
Hi! This is my first time writing for Nikolai! Bear with me while I try and get his character worked out, he’s a bit hard to write for. But I hope you like the outcome! Thanks for the request :)
(Warnings: season 2 spoilers, mentions of death, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, general angsty shit, let me know if i missed anything)
When you arrived back in Keramzin, you found Nikolai and his crew in tatters. You had gone with Tolya to find the Sword of Neshyenyer, orders directly from Nikolai himself. It was bullshit, in your opinion. 
He had done it to keep you safe, you knew that. He didn’t want you anywhere near the Fold, not while the Darkling still lived. Tolya was more than capable of keeping you safe, so you were sent with him. It wasn’t like Nikolai thought that you couldn’t handle yourself. That wasn’t it at all. He just preferred being the one to keep you safe, and he couldn’t do that while the Darkling was still in play. You had whined, but relented, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already under.
After your own obstacles, you finally made it back to Keramzin with the sword in your possession. To your horror, Nikolai’s ship was found wrecked in the valley. 
Tolya ordered everyone to split up, and you followed him. You fought alongside him, letting him take the lead. When you caught onto Nikolai’s trail, a Heartrender found their way up the cliffside where you and Tolya were hiding. 
“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, holding you still by your shoulders. “I have to slow our heartbeats so she doesn’t know we’re coming.”
You nodded, sitting as still as you could beside him. It felt like you were suffocating, your body going rigid. Tolya held you like that until he was sure the other Heartrender was gone, and then he released you. You gasped for breath, slumping against the boulder behind you. Tolya stood, bracing your arm with his to hoist you up.
“Your heart is pounding. Are you that scared for him?” He asked, continuing on Nikolai’s trail. 
You quickly followed behind, trying not to think about the worst possibilities. He could be hurt, or–Saint’s forbid–dead. The thought nearly made your knees buckle. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the idea. But there was no point in pretending. Tolya knew your heart. He knew who it was beating for.
“I always am.”
Minutes later, you had followed Tolya all the way through the first crowd of Grisha that were blocking Nikolai and his crew into a corner. Together, you took them down one by one, following their trail all the way to where Nikolai was hiding. The Crows came in from the opposite direction, taking out what was left of the band of Grisha still fighting. 
Tamar buried her axe in the last Squallor’s head, and Nikolai stood to shoot the last remaining Tidemaker. 
The one you would come to hold responsible for the death of Dominik Vertov, Nikolai’s oldest friend. Tolya boosted you over the wooden wall just in time to see her body hit the ground. 
“Nikolai,” you gasped, taking in his appearance. 
He was caked in dirt, his clothes torn. He had cut himself somewhere along his temple and cheek, with blood and grime matted into his hair. His pants were ripped, revealing a nasty gash in his lower thigh. He appeared to be limping as he turned at the sound of your voice, his shoulders slumping in relief. 
You closed the gap between you both, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. 
“You’re alright,” he murmured, breathing you in. “Saints, I thought that was it for me for a second there. Sending you with Tolya was smart thinking on my part.”
You squeezed him tighter, grumbling as you scolded him. “I’m never listening to you again! From now on, you’re staying by my side. I don’t care what your orders are. Look at you, you’re hurt!”
“Barely a scratch, darling,” he said reassuringly as he finally pulled away, taking your hand in his. “You can yell at me later, alright? The blade, did you find it?”
Kaz picked up his cane, nodding. “Inej has it. They’ve gone to find Alina and Mal.”
“We have to do the same. If Kirigan brought the fight here, he’s gunning for her.”
Tolya patted Nikolai on the shoulder, getting his attention. “Y/N and I cleared a way into the fort. Come on!”
You wanted nothing more in that moment than to whisk Nikolai away from all the chaos and madness of the looming threat in front of you. Keeping him away from the Fold and out of harm’s way was what your brain was screaming at you to do. But you had your duty to Nikolai, and to Ravka. You had a duty to Alina, who was going to save you all. You had to put aside your own wants, and do what was right. 
Nikolai nodded, squeezing your hand. “Come on, milaya.”
Sweet girl.
You sighed, wrapping one arm around Nikolai’s waist, letting him hold on to the other to brace himself. Once you were sure he was ready, you moved in tandem. Together, you hurried behind the group into the fort. 
The following events couldn’t have taken more than an hour. But it felt like a lifetime, watching Nikolai’s every move in the Fold. 
Kaz had given him his cane so that your arms were free. You were able to fight then, and you fought with your life alongside your friends as you made your way through the fort. 
By the end of it, the Fold was gone. The darkness was gone, and the Darkling along with it. 
But not before the nichevo’ya got ahold of Nikolai, clawing him in the shoulder as it dragged him up a column. 
That was the worst of it. Knowing he was looking death in the eye, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The nichevo’ya were unkillable without the blade, and Inej was nowhere in sight. You had clambered to get to him, screaming and waving your hands to try and distract the monster, begging for it to let Nikolai go. 
Tamar had held you back, letting Tolya take the lead alongside Adrik and Nadia. 
“He’d kill me for letting you die for him, and you know it!” She said solemnly, her face crumbling at the sight of her King. “I promised him I would keep you safe, Y/N! Let them do this.”
You felt your knees buckling, and your throat beginning to burn as you let out desperate wails and pleas. You could barely see through your tears as you begged Tamar to let you go, trying to wrench yourself free of her hold. Nadia and Adrik continued to use their powers to try and separate the shadows, their attempts failing.
Finally—to your relief—the monster disappeared upon the Darkling’s death. 
Nikolai dropped to the floor, landing with a harsh thud. Tolya moved to catch him, and Tamar let you go, joining her brother at Nikolai’s side. 
“Kirigan must be dead!”
You scrambled to the floor, reaching for any part of Nikolai you could hold on to. He immediately chased your touch, clinging to your arms as you laid by his side. He gasped for breath, clutching his chest. 
You let out a cry of relief, cupping his jaw. Your throat was raw, your voice small. 
“Nikolai,” you said through tears. “Are you alright?”
He clutched at his shoulder, grimacing in pain. He remained stoic, trying to hide his fear for you. It was a valiant effort, but he couldn’t keep up the facade, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks as he breathed heavily. 
“I’m alright, darling,” he nodded, not sure if his words were more in an effort to reassure you or himself. Either way, not much comfort came from his words. 
He clutched your hands tightly for a moment, before allowing you, Tolya, and Tamar to help him up off the floor.
Outside, you rested Nikolai on top of a crate to get him off his feet. 
Inej came down with Alina to confirm the death of the Darkling, letting Nikolai know that Zoya was guarding the body. With your help, he shakily stood, thanking everyone for their help. Much to your displeasure, he asked you to take him back to his ship. He needed a minute to himself, before everyone needed to gather and discuss what to do next.
“That’s a lot of walking on that leg, Nikolai,” you said anxiously, walking cautiously behind him as he led you up the hill. “You’re so stubborn, sometimes.”
He smiled, leaning into you. “You love it.”
You rolled your eyes, keeping your arm around his waist as you followed Tamar and Tolya back to the ship. Aboard the ship, you eased him down onto a turned over barrel. Tolya came over to hand you a sack full of bandages and clean rags.
“Take care of him,” he smiled, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be over here if you need anything. We should head back to Alina soon, though.”
You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tolya. For everything.”
“Are you alright?” You asked once everyone had settled, and Tamar and Tolya had given you a moment alone.
“Dominik,” Nikolai answered sadly, casting his eyes to the deck.
“That wasn’t your fault,” you firmly reassured, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him into your side. “He died for his King and country. He was brave enough to save your life. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful to him.”
Nikolai’s face crumbled, and he hid his expression into your side. “I don’t want anyone dying for me, Y/N. I don’t want to be the kind of King who has to ask his people to lay down their lives for him.”
You ran a hand up and down his back, bending down to press a kiss on the top of his head. 
“Listen to me. You’re going to be the best King that Ravka has ever seen. And that comes with making sacrifices. It’s not fair, I know. I know you don’t want it, and I wish I could take on that burden for you. But you’re all we’ve got, and I believe in you. We all do.”
Nikolai sniffled, letting his cheek rest against your stomach. You combed your fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the gash on his temple. 
“I’m so sorry, my love. I know how much Dominik meant to you. But his death wasn’t for nothing, I need you to understand that. He didn’t die in vain. His bravery will be remembered, I promise you that. And so will yours, because of today. I’m so proud of you, lapushka.”
Darling.
“I’m getting blood on your shirt,” he spoke, muffled into you.
“I don’t care, love. It’s just a shirt.”
You lightly chuckled, letting him change the subject. For a man who speaks so highly of himself, Nikolai didn’t take genuine kindness and adoration well. It was a good thing his face was hidden in your shirt. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink at your words, his eyes glazed with tears. You continued running your fingers through his hair, when he finally sniffed, pulling back.
“I care,” he grinned, looking up at you. “That’s my shirt you’re wearing.”
You smiled sheepishly down at him, nodding. “Forgot about that. Well, I suppose we should get you cleaned up, then. Alright?”
Nikolai nodded, and you reached into the bag, pulling out a couple of clean cloths. You used your canteen to wet them, crouching down to deal with the gash on his leg first. You wiped as gently as you could, grimacing when he would wince. 
“I don’t think you need stitches. Best get a Healer, though. I don’t want you limping the rest of the day.”
You finished wrapping his leg, standing to grab a fresh cloth. You wet it, standing to the side of Nikolai to try and wipe the caked blood and dirt out of his hair so you could find the source of the bleeding. You sighed in frustration, gently untangling the hair matted to his temple. 
“What?” He asked quietly.
“Nothing. I just can’t figure out where you’ve cut yourself. I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“No, darling,” he murmured. 
You nodded, continuing to wipe away the dry blood from his temple. It was a miracle he wasn’t more injured. You huffed, trying not to think about the fact that you weren’t with him when the ship went down. Trying not to think about the fact that he could have died, and you never would have seen him again. Never would have gotten to run your fingers through his hair again, or hold him in your arms. Never—
You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt hands grip your hips, pulling you forward. 
You looked down to see Nikolai gazing up at you, his hands resting on your hips. He pulled you into him, slotting you between his legs. You rested your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself. 
“Stop looking at me like that.”
You wouldn’t meet his gaze, clutching his shirt in your hand. “Like what?”
“Like you’re looking at a ghost.”
You clutched him harder, taking a deep breath. You finally met his eyes, and he was looking at you with determination. He tugged you further into him, holding you still. 
“I’m right here, milaya,” he said, reaching for your hands. “I’m alright.”
“But you almost weren’t,” you said shakily, squeezing his hands tight. “I was so worried, Nikolai.”
He stood on wavering legs, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You pressed your cheek into his chest, clutching him as close to you as you could. You decided to stifle the thought, dropping the conversation. 
He was here with you, right here. And he was alive. That was enough.
“I didn’t finish bandaging you,” you murmured into his chest.
Nikolai chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’ll have Genya do it. You were butchering it, anyway.”
You pulled away, playfully slapping his arm. “Was not!”
“You were,” he mused, taking your hand. “But that’s alright. I don’t keep you around because you’re a good Healer.”
You raised a brow, turning to head off the ship back in the direction of the fort. “And what do you keep me around for, moi tsar?”
Nikolai smirked, taking your hand as you guided him down. “Other things, milaya. Other things.”
A/N - Hi! Hope this is alright :)
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bey0nd-1he-stars · 1 year
Text
Anchor - Nikolai Lantsov
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Masterlist
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader
Wordcount: 1247
Warnings: crying, mentions of wounds
Summary: You try to find Nikolai after the fight is over to make sure he is okay (based heavily on the Netflix show but I can't say that it's spoiling something)
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The sun shined like never before. After being drowning in the darkness of the Fold, the sun seemed too bright. You’d made it through the battle with just a few scratches and some torn clothes, but overall you were alright. You’d been with Tamar at the start, but when the Fold had expanded and the volcra had made its way to the fort, you’d had no other choice than to split up if survival were to be left on the map. It'd been a game of hide and seek and fortunately, you’d won. The breath you’d let out when the sun broke through and the light came back, signaling that Alina had done it, it may be the most relief you’d felt in a long time. Until you saw what the volcra had left after their brief visit and you couldn’t find any of the others. 
Nikolai wasn’t bearing any of his own weight, leaning on Tamar and Tolya as they made it out of the room and out to the frontside of the fort. Barrels and crates still stood there, a bit messier than before but otherwise it was alright. A few soldiers from the first army had started to gather those who’d been lost in the battle, they were lined up on the grass just outside the gate. Tamar and Tolya carefully sat him down on top of a pair of crates of some sort and let out a huff. Nikolai ran a hand through his blond mop of hair and started to look around for familiar faces. That’s when it hit him. Where were you? Had you survived all this chaos? You had to. In his frantic state of mind he made an attempt to get up but lost his balance until Tolya caught him. He gave him a nod in thank you and started to limp away to try and find you. 
“Nikolai? what are you- where are you going?” Tamar asked and ran up to him. She placed an arm around his waist to help stabilize him. Nikolai came to a halt and threw an arm around her shoulders and propped himself up a bit. 
“I have to find Y/N.” Tamar nodded and pulled at him, leading him into the fort again, “come along then.” 
You were almost running through the corridors, throwing every door open, shouting names into the air. Your heels made clicking sounds against the stone floor that echoed in the hallways, your kefta was torn a few places and the buttons had come undone and it flew behind you like a cloak. The tears that had gathered in your eyes got closer and closer to falling with every door you threw open. Every door led to yet another empty room where chaos had passed and left everything in a mess. Here and there you were met by a few offers from the first army, a few grisha here and there, but no sign of Nikolai, Tolya, Tamar or any of the crows. When you’d almost given up, walking out of the latest room with tears running down your face and your breath caught in your throat, gasping for air, that’s when Nikolai rounded the corner in the far end of the corridor. At the shout of your name you whipped around and the sight of Nikolai and Tamar had you almost fainting with relief. 
“Y/N!” Nikolai shouted. It echoed in the corridor and bounced off of the stone walls around you. The sun lit up the corridor and you could see him clearly. Nikolai let go of Tamar and propped himself up against the wall instead. And you ran. You ran straight into his arms, throwing yourself in his embrace and wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face against his neck. He caught you and pressed you into him, wanting all of you as close to him as possible. He wanted to feel your warmth, your breathing and the beating of your heart. His leg was throbbing and he sunk down on the floor with you still in his arms. 
“I thought I lost you, all of you. I couldn’t find any of you,” you whispered, breathing in the scent of him and fisting the fabric of his uniform in your hands. You looked up to see if Tamar was still there but she’d left, probably to tend to Nadia. Nikolai, equally relieved as you, pressed a hasty kiss to the side of your head and placed a hand in your hair, threading through it gently. 
“Are you alright?” He asked gently and pulled away slightly to let his eyes roam your body in search of any injuries, but let out a relieved sigh when you nodded and the only wounds he found on you were not very drastic. He made a move to stand up and you pulled away from the hug but grabbed ahold of his hand instead. Nikolai almost fell against the wall when he put pressure on his wounded leg. 
“Oh Saints, Nikolai!” You gasped and wrapped an arm around his waist and you let him throw an arm around your shoulders. He grimaced and dragged a sharp breath as you stared walking back outside to where Nikolai said the others would be. 
“I’m okay,” he insisted and looked down at you. 
“You don’t look very okay,” you said softly and stopped for a moment. You placed yourself in front of him instead and he rested his arms on your shoulders. His blond hair was messy and dirty, he had a bloody wound on the side of his head, a bleeding hole in his shoulder, the same place where he’d taken his first bullet, and his leg was bloodied and wrapped hastily in a white fabric. He definitely didn’t look okay. 
“It could be worse,” he tried and his famous smirk made its way to his lips. You chuckled, still the same old humour. He didn’t seem to have hit his head at least. You softly shook your head at him and cupped his cheek in your hand, careful to avoid the wound. 
“Just because it could be worse doesn’t mean that you’re okay.” Nikolai smiled at that, you were always so caring and comforting. Something he admired greatly with you. He settled for a simple nod and you placed yourself at his side again to help him walk. When the two of you came out into the sun in the courtyard Nikolai stopped again. You assumed he wanted to rest his leg but when you looked up at him he came crashing his lips down on yours. He held your face gently in his hands, yours came to rest on his chest. The kiss was soft and gentle and Nikolai savored every second like it was his last. You could feel the thumping of his heart through the uniform. The world had stopped and you let yourself enjoy the short moment. The two of you had survived the war, it was at least worth a kiss in celebration. 
When you broke apart Nikolai had tears running down his face. His eyes were glossed over and he slightly trembled under your hands. You didn’t say anything, you just wrapped your arms around him and held him, holding him up and pressing soft kisses to his blond mop of curls. You let each other just bask in the moment. You held each other, grounding each other like anchors to the world. 
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