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kyokikikie · 8 months ago

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✩ Second Best (T. Kuroo)

masterlist!! Bewitched series (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

—> in which Y/n slowly realises that she will never have space in his heart.

➤ genre: angst, slight cheating (?), wrong idea of ‘love’

She would never forget how stupid she was.

Jubilant. She was jubilant when the news of Kuroo Tetsuro — the guy that she had pined for since she laid eyes on him, had gotten dumped by his girlfriend. Of course, she did feel bad for him, who would even dare to let such a man slip away from their arms?

She didn’t give a second thought on why he got broken up with. Kuroo was now available. She could return to chasing after him, and soon, he would finally accept her.

That was what she thought.

Kuroo wasn’t oblivious to the way she would look at him, a look full of admiration and affection. She was blinded by love, the perfect person he could use.

So when the volleyball captain came up to her and asked her to be his girl, she was over the moon. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” She beamed, holding the single rose Kuroo had given her. A sigh of relief escaped the male’s mouth, phase one of his scheme was easy. Kuroo gave a mischievous smirk.

Soon, he’ll have his ex crawling back to him, begging to take her back, and he’ll tell the girl before his eyes a lame excuse before accepting his ex with open arms.

For a few months, Kuroo was the sweetest towards Y/n. He would give her flowers every time they met up for a date, gave her the princess treatment, and always made time for her. Everyone would kill to have what she had. The school heartthrob, treating his girl how she deserves to be treated.

Everything was going well. Too well.

On a Sunday night, Kuroo was over at Y/n’s for their weekly cuddles. Unfortunately, a simple message from someone crashed the whole mood. The male picked up his phone to reply to the text, not knowing that his current girlfriend who was beside him could see every single letter being typed out.

Out of anger, she pushed the thick blanket aside and sat up from the bed. Y/n snatched the phone out of Kuroo’s hands, “You’re here enjoying time with YOUR girlfriend and yet still dare to contact your ex?” she emphasised.

“Baby, come on, she reached out first, i was going to shut her down anyways,”

“Bullshit.” She raised her voice and spat. ”Why? The words you typed out surely weren't telling me you were. Why? Am I not enough for you? Was I not enough? Do you even–” Before she had the chance to continue her rambling, Kuroo stepped closer to her and closed the gap between them.

That shut her up.

It wasn’t the first time they had shared a kiss. However, this one made her stood rooted to the ground. When his warm lips touched hers, the warmth that it was supposed to give was missing.

That's when she knew that someone else was in his mind.

Y/n couldn't react and only watched as Kuroo took his bag and left her house, “I promise you, she has no ill intentions.” was all he said. No goodbyes. No ‘see you tomorrow’ like he would usually do. Her boyfriend had left her, frozen and the comfort he gave was ‘she has no ill intentions’?

she couldn't believe it. she didn't want to. She spent all her hard work building this relationship with him, there was no way she's letting it go just because of a simple argument. When the sound of her front door banged shut, her knees gave in and she slumped to the floor, tears streaming down her eyes.

From then on, kisses from him didn't feel as comfortable anymore.

Ever since that day, Kuroo’s eyes were glued to his phone, typing away. Whenever he is out with the h/c-haired girl, his hands will always find their way to the device instead of her hand.

“Kuroo, what should we eat for dinner?”

The rooster-head male shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not hungry.” He replied, eyes darting to the girl next to him and then looked back at his phone. Kuroo was starting to replicate the image of kenma.

The radiant smile on Y/n’s lips faded, she didn’t even bother to reply to him. She knew that as soon as she opened her mouth, heated words would uncontrollably flow out. The girl simply bit the insides of her cheek and continued walking.

Where did the sweet Kuroo go? Who was this man beside her? Where was the person that would give his fullest attention to her?

”Then I’ll get going now.” Y/n came to a stop, looked into his hazel eyes and said. There was no point in spending time with him if all he did was to check his phone every second. “Ah, okay, see you at school.”

That’s all? He didn’t stop her, didn’t ask what was wrong. Not even a kiss goodbye?

The h/c-haired girl scoffed and walked away while her boyfriend continued in the opposite direction.

It was on and off. they would get into arguments almost every week then make up the next day. her friends told her that it was unhealthy and she should just give it up. she couldn't.

So there she was, lying beside him as he let out snores that vibrated down his throat. A smile spread across his face as he slept, a smile that Y/n had been longing to see. She had almost forgotten that he was capable of making such an expression.

She wanted to know what had made him smile like that. How could he sleep so peacefully when their relationship was on thin ice? He didn’t know that on the night of every fight they had, she would always toss and turn on her bed, countless thoughts ran through her mind as she did so.

What was he so happy about? Was he satisfied that her heart was aching the whole time?

Kuroo’s phone buzzed next to her, a notification lit the dark room up. As soon as the h/c-haired girl read the contact name, she knew. She knew the reason behind that lovely dream that he had.

It was none other than the person he told her not to worry about. Ironic isn’t it?

The realisation had stung her heart like a bee, it ached. She wanted to confront Kuroo but the thought of him walking away again held her back. It was just a friendly message asking to meet to catch up, nothing wrong, nothing fishy.

Y/n took a deep breath, she shut her eyes and diverted her thoughts away from it. If only she could warn herself about the future that bestowed upon her.

One of Nekoma’s school gyms was lit up with LED lights from the inside. The colourful lights illuminated the whole gym. It wasn’t too bright, yet it wasn’t too dark. Students chatted away at every corner of the gym, the dance floor was filled with couples and groups of friends that danced like there was no tomorrow.

It was finally the school dance, the event that everyone had been looking forward to.

Loud music played from the large speakers as Y/n made her way to Kuroo whose spikes on his hair made him recognisable through the crowd. He was chatting with his volleyball teammates, taking sips of the cup of punch in his left hand. The boys immediately shifted their gaze to Y/n who was approaching them, “ooh, Kuroo, you’ve got company!” They teased.

Kuroo spun around to see a h/c-haired girl tilting her head slightly to meet his eye.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, placing the cup back on his lips while waiting for a reply. But before Y/n could even speak, the volleyball team started chanting. “Dance with her! Dance with her!”

A small smile formed on Kuroo’s lips. It wasn’t as genuine as the one plastered on his face that night, but it was something. Y/n bit the insides of her cheeks and gulped. “Well, what do you say, babe? Care to dance?” Kuroo extended his arm for her to hold onto.

Who was she to deny him? She would do anything for him. It wasn’t an understatement, it’s just how much she loves him.

The couple made their way to the dance floor when the song “Lover” by Taylor swift played. Soon, the dance floor was once again filled with people.

Y/n placed her hands on Kuroo’s shoulders and he placed his on her waist, their feet moved to the rhythm. Her e/c-eyes looked into his hazel ones, Y/n’s lips quirked upwards. To her, it was just the two of them. Everyone in the background disappeared as she focused on the music, she was mesmerised.

But to him, he paid no attention to such details. His eyes wandered across the gym, searching for something to focus on instead of the girl in front of him. A pair of familiar eyes met his, the ones that he had yearned to see.

It was his ex-lover. And she was smiling at him, as if she was saying, “I see that your having fun without me.”

A wide-eyed Kuroo could only stay silent and remain where he was. His guts and his heart wanted to break away from Y/n’s embrace and run towards her, and say “No, never. Not without you, so please, come back to me.” It took all of his willpower to remind himself that it isn’t time. There was a girl, so in love with him that she stayed even when he was clearly using her. He wasn’t that type of person to throw someone away once they’ve done their job, right?

‘Soon,’ the said male reminded himself, ‘Soon, everything will go back to normal.’

The thought of his ex-lover standing by his side again made the corner of his mouth twitch up. He imagined that the h/c-haired girl in front of him was her. Kuroo pulled Y/n closer, resting his chin on the top of her head, they were practically hugging instead of dancing.

Taken back by the sudden intimacy, Y/n finched. Was he finally back to his normal self? The music continued as they spun around, Kuroo was now where Y/n was when they started, his back facing his ex-lover. The couple let the rhythm of the song control their movements. Finally, after months, Y/n felt a sense of comfort.

Though, her smile slipped when she looked over Kuroo’s shoulders.

There, Y/n saw her.

Of course it was her

The way her dress would outline her curves, showing just a little cleavage that would still make anyone drool over her. Including her boyfriend, Kuroo. Kuroo and her were once the school’s best couple before they broke up. School heartthrob dating the school heartthrob, a match made in heaven. Y/n could see why Kuroo dated her, she was just as beautiful as the karasuno’s volleyball manager, Kiyoko.

If they stood side by side, Y/n would look like a complete mess beside a goddess.

Y/n’s lips quivered. It was as clear as glass that Kuroo’s sudden attitude towards her was all because of his ex-lover. Heck, was it even towards Y/n?

Her heart had finally shattered. It hurts so much that she finds it humiliating. How could she not notice this earlier? The reason why Kuroo and her were fighting every week was because of his ex. It was sickening to the point that she wanted to burst out laughing right then and there. She was being used.

Kuroo was never hers. His heart only had space for one.

And that one person will never be her.

It had been months since they broke up. The nights were peaceful for her as she no longer needed to worry about their constant fights. She had graduated high-school with scholarships to Tokyo University. Life was better than what she had imagined it would be.

she had moved on. It didn’t bother her that Kuroo got back with his ex-lover weeks after they parted. Y/n expected it and couldn’t care less about Kuroo.

So why? Why was she lying down facing the ceiling and unable to get out of bed?

After being accepted into Tokyo University, her days were like a cycle. She would get out of bed, brush her teeth, and go back to bed, eyes glued to her phone. She would only leave her house if she was hungry.

Y/n scrolled through social media, watching her high-school friends spend their day with each other. Her eyelids were about to fall shut till she saw a familiar rooster head.

It was Kuroo. She had forgotten to block him from her socials…

The hazel eyed male’s lips were split into a grin, and beside him — the one taking the photo, was no longer his ex-lover. It was the love of his life. They were having the best time of his life and the look on Kuroo’s face was something that Y/n had never seen before.

with a sigh, she dropped her phone on the soft mattress of her bed and turned to face the wall.

She was sure she had moved on, so why was she the only one bedridden?

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Second Best 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Much of the night you spend crying. Between spurts of humiliation and disgust, you sink into a heavy, painful sleep. You wake with a pounding in your temples.

You call into work. You’ve never done so before but you can’t bring yourself to leave your room. You haven’t come out since your mom dragged you inside. It was only after a lecture about your friends that you could retreat.

You can’t bring yourself to face the world because that means facing yourself and what you did. What he did.

You sniffle. You don’t understand any of it. Why you? What did you do to deserve that?

Your phone vibrates on the night stand. You snatch it, expecting it to be work. They probably need you. Nope. The number is private. You let it roll over to voicemail.

You close your eyes but the buzz starts again. You ignore it. On the third round, you grab the phone. There’s a text. All caps. ‘ANSWER ME’.

It’s not Greta. It’s not her number and you don’t think she’d bother. Not after everything. Didn’t she go to the party last night? You can’t remember.

Private pops up on the screen again. You press the green button and drag your thumb. You answer in confusion.

“Hello.”

“About time,” Lee snarls. “You know, I ain’t the sorta man who like to be ignored. It’s insolent.”

You sit up and your stomach flips, “Sheriff.”

“Good girl,” he snickers. “You remember your manners, even with that dirty mouth. Huh?” You hear him shifting, “the way you had me all up in you yesterday, huh?”

You choke and touch your throat. Your head thrums and tears burn. Can’t it be over?

“Sir, I--”

“I’m on patrol today. It gets borin’ so you pretty yourself up and come keep me company,” he commands.

“But I have work--”

“You got nothing to worry about but me.” He growls. “I want you in a pretty little skirt for me. Don’t bother with nothin’ underneath.” He sucks his teeth. “Half hour, baby.”

“Sir--”

“Don’t you argue with me, now.”

He doesn’t give you a chance. You couldn’t if he did. The line clicks and the call ends. You’re grateful at least for that.

You turn your legs over the side of the bed and leave the phone tangled in your blankets. You get up and falter. Your insides hurt. You feel his intrusion burning you from the inside.

You grab a towel and some clothes. You find a skirt, like he said, and a tee shirt. You sneak out and lock yourself in the bathroom. You shower quickly.

You emerge and your thighs brush together, reminding you of your lack of panties. You hate it. Your father is snoring loudly behind the wall. You grab a pair of flats and your purse, fish your phone from the bed, and go to wait on the porch.

You stand, don’t sit. The skirt would show everything. You fidget and pace back and forth. The roll of tires makes you wince. You turn and watch the cruiser approach.

You come down the steps as Lee pulls up. You don’t need your parents waking up. You can’t imagine what they’d think if they knew the sheriff was coming around again.

You get in and hiss as you sit. Oof, that hurts.

Lee startles you as he grabs your head and wrenches you towards him. He smothers your mouth with his, his tongue diving back to your throat. You hold back a gag and he finally releases you.

“Hey, sugar,” he rasps. “Mm, you look delicious. Did ya do what I said?”

His eyes fall to your lap. You squirm, “yes, sir.”

“Show me,” he demands.

You look away. You lift your ass and roll up your skirt, showing your naked pelvis. He groans and shifts in the seat.

“Uh huh, that’s real nice,” he rubs his lap. “You got a pretty pussy, you know that?”

You swallow and stare at the dashboard, “thank you, sir.”

“You pet it for me.” He grips the wheel.

“Sir?” You squeak.

“Buckle up,” he shifts into gear, “and show me how that pussy feels.”

You shiver and reach for the seat belt. You’re stomach boils with contempt and shame. You buckle in and stare ahead.

“Go on,” he grits.

You rest your hands on your thighs and slowly trails them inward. You bring one to your cunt, feeling along your coiled hair, and delve between your folds. You’re raw and sensitive. You twitch as you rub your clit.

“That’s it. Now you don’t go being quiet. I wanna hear ya. Gotta watch the road.”

You squeak and your thighs quiver. You roll your fingers around. As you get wet, you close your eyes, ashamed as he enters the town centre. Someone could see, even this early.

“Ohhh,” the gasp slips from you as your fingers glide back. You curl them again and focus on your clit.

“You put em inside,” he snarls. “Get deep.”

You whimper and let your fingers slide down to your entrance. You push back against the seat. You dip past your entrance. You gulp and groan. Your walls clench your fingers.

You press the heel of your hand to your clit. You rock your hand and shudder. He purrs and reaches over, gripping your thighs as he growls.

“Fuck, baby, you sound good,” he slithers. “Wet, the way your pussy’s clinging. I can hear it.”

You whine and turn your face away.

“The way I’d fill you up. Think I’d get stuck up there?” He taunts, his fingers swirling on your flesh. “You’re so wet, I bet you’d be dripping down me.”

You bite your lip. His hand crawls over to cover yours. He presses his palm over your hand covering it, holding it in place. He prods along your knuckles and you cry out as he forces his fingers inside with yours. He leans over slightly, still grip the wheel with his other hand.

He moves your hand with his, pushing deeper, faster, and he snarls as you moan and mewl. His fingers stretch you painfully. The heat clusters in your core, flickering hotter and hotter. Your thighs close around both your hands.

Your hips twitch without your permission. You spasm, grinding against your palm as you cum, fingers squelching in your cunt. You cry out as your orgasm overflows. He hums and slows, keeping his fingers inside. He wiggles them before he slowly drags them out.

You drip onto the leather seat. He puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks. He pops his lips off and rubs his lap again. He inhales deeply.

“We needa pull off, baby. I know ya need the real thing in ya. Right now.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #series #drabble #backwoods #backwoods au #au #the devil all the time #second best

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pim-piml1ng · 11 months ago

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i’m imagining pim listening to this thinking about charlie and zoey

I WAS YOUR SECOND BEEEESSSSSTTTTT

#laufey #charpim #second best #charlie dompler #pim pimling #smiling friends #SOBBING #Spotify

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ellewritesalright · 1 year ago

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Second Best - Part 4

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Masterlist --- Part 3

A/N: Buckle up folks, things are about to get wild.

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: Angst! (fluff too) Strict and low-key abusive parents, self-image issues because of said parents, arguing/angry shouting, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please [we have almost reached this part of the story]), pls lmk if I've missed anything else.

Word count: 4000

..........

"And this is the lower deck," Nikolai said, motioning around the wooden cabin of the Kingfisher. He was giving you a tour before he left for another trip across Ravka tomorrow.

You grazed your hand along one of the hammocks. "How does one sleep while airborne?"

"I'm not sure. I never sleep while we're flying." He stood beside you, patting the canvas fabric and making it sway. "These are more for the crew."

You nodded, looking around some more.

"There's not much else to the Kingfisher. It's mostly utility, since flights don't take much longer than a few hours usually."

"How does it fly in the rain?" You inquired, eyeing the grates overhead, the blue sky poking through the gaps.

He smiled. "Not perfectly, but we make do."

"Why does that sound like it's a more harrowing experience than you're letting on?"

"Oh, hush," he laughed, "it's perfectly safe."

You walked back up the steep steps to the upper deck.

"Thank you for the tour," you said as you stopped near the boarding ramp.

"Anytime." He leaned against the railing. "I'm just sorry I'll be missing your birthday soiree."

You rolled your eyes. "You mean the parade of unsuitable suitors?"

"That's the one," he smiled, giving your upper arm a short pat. "Cheer up. It's not every day a lady turns twenty-one."

You scratched at your collar for a moment, then clasped your hands together in front of you. "She's going to be insufferable."

He instantly knew you were talking about your mother. "No more than usual."

You gave him a look.

"I'm just saying… maybe she'll be distracted with the hosting."

"She can multitask my misery, don't you worry."

Nikolai sighed, eyes empathetic.

"You'll have to have a doubly good time in East Ravka, to make up for the suffering I'll be enduring," you told him. "I command it."

"You're commanding the king now?" He smirked.

You gave him another look, and he laughed, his hand touching your upper arm again.

"Yes, ma'am."

……….

The house hadn't been this packed since you were a small child. The last time you remembered the Antonovs hosting as extravagant an event as this, you were young enough to be sneaking peeks from the servants' halls. But now, you were in it. Men were twisting you about in the ballroom, eyeing you up from the great hall, whispering in your ear in the dining room.

The man on your arm at present was General Halinsky. He was leading you through a rather stiff waltz. You moved with him, his one hand tightly clasping yours, the other a strict presence on your back. You had to wonder if it was because of the last you'd spoken to him; calling him less accomplished and worse at his military job than King Nikolai. He stared at you without hunger or lust, which was more than you could say for some of the other men your mother invited. But there was a hardness and annoyance to his eyes whenever they narrowed on you. He probably thought you were merely a petulant girl.

When the waltz ended, Halinsky didn't let go of your hand.

"Another dance?" He asked, putting on a charming smile that did not match his viper eyes.

"I'm feeling a bit parched, I could use a drink first," you excused yourself, offering him a polite shake of your head.

"Let me fetch you something," he said, leading you over to a table. He had you sit, then he left.

You kept your back straight despite how you wished to collapse into this chair. Saints, you were exhausted. It seemed like every man was staring at you, all lured in by your mother and her promises of your intention to marry. They all stared, and you were fearful to meet any of their eyes, else they might take it as a sign and approach you. So you kept your eyes on your gloves. The elbow-length white satin covered your little scar. It was the only evidence of the life you used to have.

Your mind went to Nikolai, as it often did. You hoped he was having a pleasant enough trip to East Ravka. He'd flown there, which you still couldn't quite believe; watching him lift off with his crew and a few of his political advisors was a marvel that left you more than a little slack-jawed. You'd have to ask to study the blueprints of the ship once he got back.

He'd sent a letter yesterday, not a singular mention of potential suitors in his swooping cursive. It was more about his journey, another apology for missing your birthday, and a promise of a surprise when he returned.

You smiled to yourself as you pondered the surprise. Perhaps shells from the eastern shore, or a new tool set? You hadn't a clue, and that thrilled you.

A throat cleared in front of you, and you looked up, seeing your mother clutching the forearm of a too-eager middle aged man wearing too much cologne. She introduced him as some northern count, then forced you into a dance with him.

So then you were stifling down sneezes as he had his arm around your waist and his odor overwhelming you. After four excruciating minutes of this, the song ended and you excused yourself as quickly as you could. You noticed Lord Alexei near the left wall of the ballroom, and you started towards his friendly face. It would be nice to speak to someone normal.

But before you were even two paces away from the dance floor, General Halinsky was beside you, a glass of golden bubbly in each hand.

"There you are, my lady," he said, a hint of impatience under his words.

You offered him a smile as you took a glass. "Thank you."

He sipped his glass and looked across the ballroom. "All these people, all here for you."

"It's a good birthday," you said with a convincing chuckle. Your polka-dot scar itched beneath your glove.

"You've many friends, it seems."

"It certainly does seem like that," you nodded drolly.

"You don't think so?"

"I think my mother invited a great number of guests. I'll confess, I don't know everyone here."

He looked at you, studying your face. "Girls like you don't have to know."

You blinked at him. "What does that mean, General?"

He tilted his chin at you as he noticed the sharp undertone of your words. His snake-like stare made you look just as closely at him, studying his cold eyes.

"You're soft," he said, not in an accusatory or insulting tone, just as an observation.

"Excuse me?"

"Soft. Unprepared for life. Like a baby bird in a nest."

"I'm no child, General."

"It's not an insult that you're young and inexperienced. It just means you need someone to guide you in life."

"And you think you're that someone," you remarked, trying and failing to hide the bite in your voice.

"I think you've a large estate that could use assistance. Once your parents pass on, you'll need all the help you can get."

"Forgive me if I am wrong, but my parents are barely ten years your senior, General. I should rather think I need a husband with less years."

He sucked a breath of either annoyance or amusement through his teeth. "That's not what your mother and father think."

"They don't decide who I marry, General. You'd do well to remember that." You cast a glare at him, then you glanced across the room at Lord Alexei. "If you'll excuse me, I have other guests."

You walked away, abandoning Halinsky and your glass with him.

"I sure hope that scowl isn't for me," Alexei chuckled softly as you approached him.

You hadn't realized you were still frowning, but you wiped it away, making your face pleasant again.

"Sorry. I'm afraid I'm nearing that point of a birthday where things aren't fun anymore," you sighed. As if your birthday celebration was fun to begin with.

"Too much birthday, as we call it in my house," Alexei nodded. "My Ana has always been prone to crying on her birthdays or on holidays. She gets so excited and then when one thing does not match that excitement it comes crashing down on her."

You gave a sympathetic chuckle. "Poor girl."

"She is learning to better manage her expectations," he smiled softly. He looked at you for a moment, then said, "I hope you won't find it too forward… but I was wondering about you and my cousin, King Nikolai."

You blinked at him. "Whatever for?"

"Well, it seems to me that you two are quite close. And I plainly remember a time when you two were betrothed."

You managed a smile. "We are no longer betrothed. The king is just a good friend."

"I see," he nodded, but his eyes had something else to say.

"You don't believe me?" You tilted your chin up at him slightly.

He raised his hands. "I believe you. I simply wanted to know if I'd be wasting my time with you, considering how my cousin so clearly likes you."

You scoffed in amusement. "He is a friend of mine. Besides, he has been helping me find suitors."

"And how is his success rate?"

You pursed your lips.

"A-ha." Alexei smirked beneath his mustache. "He's a poor matchmaker."

"He's done his best."

"You'd be married by now if he was truly trying his best."

"Lord Alexei, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this conversation," you said with a polite detachedness.

"Very well. I know when to quit." He glanced around the ballroom, at the swathes of men and their black suits. Then he murmured, "Too bad the rest of these men don't know they've been beaten."

With that, Lord Alexei bowed his head and moved on.

The evening remained a long and tiring event, but now as you faked smiles and acted charming, you also had to hide the hive of thoughts buzzing in your head. When the night finally ended and the last guests had been sent home, your mother made you speak to her.

"You were surprisingly well-behaved tonight," she remarked with a dry stare at you.

You nodded. "Thank you."

She wiped at your cheek, seeing some form of imperfection. "You look tired."

"I am tired."

"Then go to sleep," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"I wasn't aware I was allowed to," you said, standing up again.

"There's that tongue of yours," she rolled her eyes. She seemed too tipsy to be completely angry with you. She snapped her fingers at your father. "Darling, come see this one to bed."

"Sure, dear."

Lord Antonov sighed and offered you his arm. He walked out into the main hall, bringing you towards the staircase. "Where's your precious king tonight?"

You wanted to protest that he wasn't only your king, but you sighed and swallowed the remark.

"East Ravka. Novokribirsk, I believe."

Your father sighed again and patted your arm as you walked. "I recieved several offers for you tonight."

"Oh?" You said, your voice almost clipped.

"Lord Feng, that Kerch Banker Mr Van Sessen, General Halinsky, Viscount Ulrich…" Your father stopped outside your bedroom. "Which do you like best?"

"Most of those men haven't spoken more than a few words to me, how could I know?" You shrugged.

"Then who spoke the most?"

You stifled a groan. "Halinsky."

"General Halinsky," your father pursed his lips, appraising him. He patted your arm again. "Very well. Goodnight, daughter. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," you nodded softly.

You watched him leave for a moment before you went inside your room. You shut the door and stripped off your long gloves, your big gown coming off too. Your heels ached nearly as badly as your head as Lord Alexei's words hummed like a swarm in your ears, the hive of questions, counterarguments, and wonderings still awake.

You collapsed in bed, trying to fall asleep, but you weren't immune to the revelation about Nikolai that Alexei made. You tossed and turned, every movement a question, an exasperated game of "he loves me, he loves me not." It was difficult to say if Nikolai had been giving his full efforts in seeking a match for you. But Alexei was certain in his words–Nikolai would have found you a husband by now if he wanted to--and you had no reason to doubt Alexei.

……….

A few days after your birthday, a letter arrived, addressed from Novokribirsk. Nikolai would be home Saturday afternoon, and he was hoping to come over for tea. You wrote back that he would be welcome, but that you expected to visit the Palace very soon and see his design plans of his flying ship.

You did not mention your anxiety after your birthday celebration, how his cousin had sent you into a tailspin of questions and high hopes. Nothing was worse than raised expectations, so you were trying to muscle them down and stop them before they destroyed your life and friendship completely.

Even so, Nikolai had a small bag with him when he arrived for tea on Saturday afternoon. He set the bag down beside the sofa as you brought him into the library. A belated birthday gift, you figured. He stood by the window for a moment as you walked across the room again. You felt bold enough to shut the door, leaving the two of you alone. You poured tea for Nikolai, preparing it with as much milk as could fit before overflowing.

You felt as if this was a moment you should remember. The blue rim of the teacups, the way he stood with his back to you as he looked out at the gardens, the near-shake of your hands, the glint in Nikolai's eyes as he slowly turned and approached the seating area. Then again, you tried not to build up this moment in your mind; Nikolai was your friend, and he would go on as your friend. That was all.

"I'm terribly sorry to have missed your birthday. I heard it was quite the event," Nikolai said as he sat a respectable distance beside you on the sofa.

"Yes. There were more bachelors and bubbly than anyone could have stomached. My mother went all out."

He raised a brow as he raised his teacup. "And I presume you danced with every last one of them."

"Just about." You rolled your eyes a bit. "One of the bachelors was the ancient Duke Shapovalov."

"The Duke Shapovalov who's wheeled around by nurses?"

"The very same."

"Saints, your mother is creative. He's got to be as old as Ravka."

You chuckled, and Nikolai seemed to lean closer to you.

"I'm sorry you were left to fend for yourself," he said softly.

"It's alright, I'm used to it."

"All the same, I have a surprise that might make up for my absence." He grinned at you, a sly glint in his hazel irises. “Close your eyes.”

You were wary, but you did as he said. The loss of your sight drew your attention to the fact that you could feel your heartbeat in your throat. What was he going to do? You heard him move, and there was a quick rustle of his bag, then he moved again. You could hear him take a breath.

"Hold out your hands"

Again, you followed his instructions, extending your hands. Something soft was set in your palms, balancing a little lopsidedly.

"You can open your eyes now," Nikolai said after a beat.

As soon as you did you felt your heart leap out of your chest. A grey stuffed bear sat in your hands, its nose round and eyes gentle. It was Viktor, your old friend and most trusted bear. This Viktor’s limbs weren’t worn like your old Viktor’s were from trailing the halls after you, but his arms and legs were just the lengths you remembered. And his fur was slightly darker than the original’s, yet it was just as soft and warm. While he wasn’t an exact copy of your childhood bear, he was damn close, and your eyes pricked with tears as you brought your new Viktor to your chest.

“Do you like him?” Nikolai asked.

You beamed, “He's the best gift I’ve ever received. How did you manage this?”

"Well, I used the drawing you sent me, then I asked the staff at the Antonov estate house about a stuffed bear that you used to carry around. It was difficult to track down anyone who knew of Viktor, but finally one of the cooks remembered."

This difficulty made sense to you, seeing as the Antonovs had gradually replaced most of the staff after the firepox outbreak.

Nikolai chuckled as he continued, “I may or may not have passed along your sketch and his description and to a fabrikator.”

"I don't know what to say, Nikolai, I…" You heaved forward on the sofa and draped your arms around his shoulders, doing the improper thing as you hugged him. If your mother caught you she would scream like she was being murdered but you couldn't be bothered. This was the kindest, most considerate thing anyone had ever done for you. Nikolai wrapped himself around you, squeezing you gently. It was difficult to pull yourself away from him. But when you finally let him go, there were tears in your eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, hands bracing your arms as he looked at you in concern.

"I'm excellent," you sputtered. "Better than alright. I just…" A grin spread along your lips and you quickly hugged him again. "Thank you."

"I take it I'm forgiven for missing your birthday?" You felt his question burble in his chest as you pressed to it. You sat away from him again.

"You are more than forgiven, Nikolai Lantsov. If we had the power, Viktor and I would declare sainthood for you."

He laughed. "I can see it now: Sankt Nikolai the Dashing and Bold."

"Not quite. I'd name you Sankt Nikolai the Kindhearted."

He smiled softly at you. "I can live with that."

The library door opened and you flitted away from him with dizzying speed. He raised a brow as you sat on an armchair a full coffee table away from him, but you ignored his silent probe, toying with Viktor's ears.

"Your majesty," Lord Antonov greeted with a sigh, balancing a stack of papers under his arm. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long, Lord Antonov. Your daughter and I were just having tea and then I gave her a birthday gift. Perhaps you'd like to see it."

You proudly held up Viktor, matching Nikolai's grin as you peered at the bear.

"You got her a stuffed animal?" Your father peered down his nose at Viktor. He grumbled, "It's a rather peculiar gift for someone her age."

"The bear is a replica of a toy she used to have when she was young, but if you don't remember him, perhaps I haven't done a very good job."

You wanted to say he'd done well, that it was the best gift you'd ever received and you were grateful even if the resemblance wasn't exact, but you were quickly over spoken.

"I remember a scraggly bunch of stitches she used to drag behind her, but we got rid of it and the countless diseases it undoubtedly carried after she recovered from a terrible, terrible illness. The memory is an unpleasant one, your highness, and I am appalled that you would dredge up such a horrid moment in our family's past."

Your stomach turned to lead.

"Father--"

"Quite frankly, I don't see why you've given my daughter a gift at all," he said coldly, eyes lethal as he looked at Nikolai. "She is not your fiance. You two are no longer engaged because you broke the tie between our families. You decided we weren't suitable to marry into your royal line. And despite how incredibly irresponsible your actions were, I forgave them. But I will not tolerate your blithe flirtations with my daughter when you have no intention of marrying her!"

Nikolai stood firm, his mouth pressed in a calm line though you were sure your father's lashing must sting. It was difficult to accept the fact that your father was right, but he had compounded a fear of yours. Knowingly or unknowingly, Nikolai led you on.

"Lord Antonov," began Nikolai. He rubbed at his chest, just over his heart, and for a moment it seemed he didn't know what to say, but he soon composed an apology. "I am truly sorry. I meant no offense--"

"I know what you meant, sending my daughter letters and giving her gifts and false hope. I'm tired of your meddling, boy."

Nikolai's lip twitched and his arms dropped to his sides. "Boy? I am your king, Lord Antonov. Regardless of what you think of me, you will uphold that respect."

"I couldn't respect you if I tried," your father spat. "Now, you'd better leave my house willingly before I have someone escort you out."

Nikolai glanced at you, perhaps wishing you would speak up for him as you had before. But when you folded your arms and looked away he got the message. You were done fighting for him.

He scoffed and shook his head at you, then he stormed from the room. His footsteps could be heard in the main hall, halting for a second to gather his coat, then continuing through the front door. It slammed behind him, the noise bouncing into the library.

You had little time to process the rather one-sided conversation that just played out before you. The realization that you were no better than a fish dragged along on a hook but never reeled in was the only thing you seemed to register. It made you a bit ill to ponder, but you were grateful to your father for pulling back the curtain and confirming your situation with Nikolai. After all, Nikolai had no defenses against it, nothing to say the contrary.

Your father walked to the library door and let it click shut before he whirled around on you.

"You stupid girl!" He hissed. "How blind could you be? Your mother and I share some of the blame for letting this drag out like it did, but honestly, how foolish are you?"

"I'm sorry." You absentmindedly tugged along Viktor's ear. You had clutched him tight the entire time your father aired his grievance with the king. "I was stupid."

"Not as stupid as telling him about this blasted bear! What else did you tell him, girl? Does he know the truth about my real daughter?"

"No, he doesn't know!" You insisted

Your father scoffed and you felt your chest tighten. Your eyes watered as you gave a weak huff.

"I didn't tell him. I promise, I didn’t say a thing,” you whispered. “I only said I had a stuffed animal that was burned after the outbreak."

His glare was as pointed as a needle’s tip. "You'd better not be lying to me, girl. If the truth got out… well, we would both be ruined, wouldn't we, daughter?"

"Yes, father."

He straightened out his jacket. "Leave me now." He pointed at Viktor. "And get that thing out of my sight."

You left without another word. It was a mindless journey to your room, and you wondered why you felt so numb. Five minutes prior you were the happiest you'd been in a long time. You were receiving a thoughtful gift from what you thought was a trusted friend, and now you sat collapsed on the carpet of your room, uncontrollable tears blotting your cheeks.

You should be stronger than this. You'd withstood a tumultuous childhood and lonely youth. You lost your mother to a pair of greedy nobles. You were denied friends and love and always made to feel lesser, like you were a vile sight and poor replacement for what was lost to the Antonovs.

You cried into Viktor's head, your chest aching with the weight of not being good enough–both for your supposed family, and for your once-fiance and former friend, Nikolai.

..........

A/N: Evil ending for this part, am I right? Anyway... Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

@stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny

@historianthesecond @kataraluvr @lunamadhatter99 @lareinaa007 @folklorde24

@a-candle-maker @elicheel @charmingpatronus @chaoticswampwitch

@radiantactions @auranightangle @girlofthunder

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

@poseidont @hashcakes

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x fem!reader #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov x you #grishaverse fanfic #second best

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benjhawkins · 1 year ago

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and it’s time for us to leave her

#best summer ever?#second best #best summer ever was the year I moved to Maine

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 9 months ago

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*tries to telepathically convince tldp to release the killer and second best as soon as humanly possible*

#tldp #the last dinner party #Abigail Morris #emily roberts #lizzie mayland #georgia davies #aurora nishevci #prelude to ecstasy #the killer #second best #nothing matters #music #indie music

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stockingshell · 1 year ago

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my fav sensitive bird-man

#dr plowp #dr #second best #the second best hospital in the galaxy #my art

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mutteral · 4 months ago

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#dog poetry #golden retriever aesthetic #golden retriever #visual poetry #vent edits #vent edit #poetry edits #vent #aesthetic #writings #never enough #second best

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jjkarmy091 · 4 months ago

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Second Best Masterlist:

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel; slow burn; parenting trauma

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

part 9

part 10

part 11 (Coming soon)

✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧✧┈┄─╌─╌─┄┈⪧✧┈┄─╌─╌

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995 @blueberriesm @darkangelfei

#Second best masterlist #second best #jungkook #angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #imagines

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cbeargyu · 3 months ago

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i was writing while listening to “did you like her in the morning” by niki and out of nowhere i got hit with memories of my most vulnerable moments ⚰️ when someone made me feel like i was second best, replaceable, like if someone from his past came back, he wouldn’t even think twice before choosing her over me.

maybe i should write a fic to vent and make the characters suffer instead lol💀😭

so please comment who would be the victim LOL🤣🥲

#call an ambulance #therapy pls #so sad #im crying fr #tf #why am I so lonely #second best #so tired #help me to overcome it #come on don't leave it can't be that easy babe #im not okay #song recommendation

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

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Second Best 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lee sighs and stretches his arm between your seats. You flinch and keep your eyes out the window. His shadow looms at the edge of your vision. You feel a tickle and look at the side mirror. His fingers creep along your shoulder.

“Come ‘ere,” he purrs.

“Sir, you’re driving--”

“I said closer,” he snarls.

You obey. His hand slips around the back of your neck and he forces you to bend over the console. You resist for just a moment then give in. He brings your head over your lap and you whimper.

“You know what I want. How about you treat me like that ice cream, huh darlin’?” He chuckles.

Your stomach churns again. It hasn’t stopped. You can still smell the dirt and grass. You can feel him inside of you. You brace his leg as you stare down at the beige fabric of his pants. He drags his hand off your neck and picks open his fly.

He wiggles in the seat, just until he can get his boxers under his dick. He’s not even half-hard. You blanch as your lip trembles. There’s no way out. You have to let him do this. Make no mistake, you are going to do it.

He grabs his flaccid dick and jostles it. He aims the tip up at you, “go on. Wake him up.”

You take a breath and put your lips around him. He growls and once more moves his hand to the back of your head. He pushes you down. His soft length rolls into your mouth. You move your tongue around as you’re smothered by it.

He holds you down as your saliva drips out and smears around his pelvis. You gurgle and he sighs. He steers with his other hand lazily, his foot planted on the gas.

He clumps up your hair in his hand and lifts you. He rocks your head as he stays limp. He grunts and groans and shoves you to your limit again.

“Fine, ya just keep me warm then,” he barks. “Damnit girl, put some effort in and I might get hard.”

You close your eyes as your tears leak out. It’s humiliating. You suspect that’s part of it. It’s not just sex, he wants to humiliate you.

The motion of the car has you dizzy as you stay folded over the middle console. The tires crunch over gravel and he passes another vehicle. You can tell by the shadow that it’s bigger; a truck. The other driver honks. Did they see you?

He rips you off of him and throws you back into the passenger seat. You cover your mouth and cough as he tisks. “Almost home, ma and pa ain’t wanna see what you doin’ to prove your innocence, huh?”

You wipe your face and curl your shoulders down. You hug yourself as you look over and see your parents’ home. You don’t even think you could look them in the eye.

He pulls up in front of the porch and shifts into park. You shakily unbuckle the seatbelt and turns off the engine. You hesitate and glance over at him.

“Now, I’ll have to smooth things over with the parents, huh?” He drawls before he opens his door.

You get out and gently close the door. As you round the hood, he meets you and grabs you by the arm. He drags you up the steps. The evening deepens behind the gutters. He hauls you onward and swings back the screen before thumping on the inner door.

Your mom opens it from the other side and gasps. You shrink down, trying to hide as you stand right in front of her.

“Oh, my, honey!” She exclaims.

“She’s all clear, ma’am,” he assures. “I brought her home myself. You know, I gotta apologise. We were mistaken, ya know? And I owe ya another ‘cause my men weren’t so nice with their questions.” He pats you shoulder and squeezes, “I set ‘em straight. Ya know, you raised yourself a good girl.”

You look over at him wearily. What the hell?

“Real sorry ‘bout it. Turns out it was that friend of hers. Bad influence if ya ask me,” he tuts. “But she’s home, safe and sound.” He looks at you and winks. “I mean it. She’s a real nice one.”

“Oh, sheriff, you’re too sweet,” she preens. “I didn’t think it was here. Not really. We didn’t bring her up like that.” She reaches to take your hand. You almost recoil. She’s never been that sort. She’s playing it up for him.

You let her pull you away from him. Better her than him. You just need to get away. Somewhere safe. Somewhere you can cry.

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #second best #series #drabble #au #backwoods #the devil all the time

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snoozebin · 2 years ago

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when the gold rays

fell on your skin ; and my hair got caught in

the wind

#laufey #laufey icons #bewitched #a letter to my 13 year old self #promise #lovesick #laufey lyrics #dreamer #second best #haunted #must be love #while you were sleeping #california and me #from the start #misty #serendipity #nocturne #laufey moodboard

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ellewritesalright · 2 years ago

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Second Best - Part 3

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Part 2 --- Masterlist --- Part 4

A/N: Hello! Look at me with two updates in one month, who'd have thought? Buckle in for this one, it's twice as long as the last part. Once again, I hope it is coherent enough :) and again, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Warnings: strict and low-key abusive parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please), not 100% proofread

Word Count: 4670

..........

Being without a fiance was an unfortunate circumstance. All your life you had witnessed young women like you being paraded around in hopes that they would find suitors even richer than their families, but because the Antonovs had made their deal with the king and queen so long ago, you never had to participate in such dreadful activities. In the past month since your disbanded engagement, you had attended three large gatherings and hosted many more as your parents frantically searched for someone worthy enough to marry into the family.

As you wound down for the evening, feet killing you and your head a bit buzzed from all the wine of another party, you slunk over to your vanity. After removing your makeup, you reached into the top drawer, trailing your fingers across its ceiling where you'd tacked a letter. It had arrived in the morning, after breakfast when you were by yourself in the library. But you'd yet to read it, too busy with your parents' antics to hide away and comb through the words. With a brief admiration of the double-eagle seal, you grabbed your letter opener and cut it open.

The handwriting was long and there were lovely loops in the 'p's and 'g's; you smiled to yourself as your eyes followed their rounded paths. Nikolai was always perfectly composed, and so were his letters. This was the third one you'd received, and he wrote of more possible suitors for you. There were some more details about his day-to-day in response to a few light-hearted queries you had posed in your last response. When he asked for embellishment on your ideas of mechanical updates at your family's estate you were so eager to start drafting your response that you almost tipped over your ink canister.

He had also requested that you assess the suitors recommended in his previous letter, and you frowned as you rated them.

Each one was well-bred and richer than the last, but none felt right. There was always something wrong with them, like wandering eyes, or a terrible way of spitting when speaking, or one suitor who had kissed your hand so sloppily you thought a hickey would form. They were all unattractive in their own ways, and you wrote as much in your letter to the king. In your closing, you made sure to thank him again for looking out for you. It was too kind of him.

At the end of this most recent letter, he said that he enjoyed playing matchmaker. Apparently, it was a brief and welcome reprieve from the hard topics of war and politics. If he wasn't exaggerating this fact, your thanks would likely mean nothing to him, but you thanked him nonetheless.

You grazed a finger across his signature at the bottom of his letter. Yours truly, Nikolai.

If your hand had not reached up to your mouth in a moment of contemplation, you might have missed the smile that etched itself onto your lips, but the shape of it was unmistakable beneath your touch. You banished that smile and went to bed, trying to banish Nikolai from your mind as well, but finding it more than a little difficult. The swooping lettering of Yours truly was printed on the inside of your eyelids.

……….

“How did you enjoy the first act of the ballet, Lord and Lady Antonov?”

Your head twisted around to see Nikolai standing at the doorway to your family’s opera box. Your father politely stood from his seat and bowed to the king while you and your mother bowed your heads. You softly grinned at Nikolai, keeping your excitement measured in front of your parents.

“It was overdone,” your mother replied.

“Quite,” nodded your father.

“I think it is rather lovely so far,” Nikolai said. He looked at you. “And your thoughts, my lady?”

You looked up at your friend. “I think it is overdone, yet charmingly so. I rather enjoyed the dance with the foxes; the dancers all moved remarkably like canines."

Nikolai grinned and nodded. "That has also been my favourite part so far."

"And the sets are just magnificent."

"Aren't they?"

You both smiled at one another for a moment. A moment that was broken by your father clearing his throat.

"What brings you to our box, your highness?" Your father asked.

Nikolai looked over at him, smiling politely. "I was actually coming to introduce a friend of mine to your family." Nikolai gestured to the door, and you noticed a man about ten years your senior standing there that you hadn't noticed when Nikolai walked in. "This is Lord Alexei Alianovic. Alexei, this is Lord and Lady Antonov and their daughter."

Lord Alexei bowed to you and your parents. "It is a pleasure to meet you, lord and Lady Antonov." He smiled at you. "And you, my lady. His highness has told me much about you."

"All good things I hope," you said with a gentle expression as you glanced between him and Nikolai. The king had a small smirk on his lips as he looked back at you.

"Quite," Alexei nodded.

"Alianovic? You're Lord Dmitri Alianovic's son?" Your father asked him.

"I am, sir."

Your mother looked pleased, which couldn't bode well for you.

Your mind quickly cycled through everything you knew about the Alianovics, trying to find something wrong. The Alianovics were wardens of a large stretch of southern Ravka. But Lord Dmitri was rather old and would likely die in a short manner of years, leaving his entire estate to his heir, Alexei. The Alianovics were an old and reputable Ravkan family too, with a few blood ties to the royal family from many decades back; Alexei would be Nikolai's very distant cousin, then.

Looking between him and Nikolai again, you could see no resemblance. Not in hair colour, eye colour, face shape, bone structure, or even stature. Lord Alexei was tall and lanky, with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes and a charming mustache. Nikolai was also younger by about ten years. Still, Alexei was decently handsome for a suitor.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice how your parents had seemed to step closer to Alexei like a pair of vultures.

"I should give my condolences for your loss, Lord Alexei," your father suddenly said. You didn't like the calculation in his brow. "What a terrible thing it is to lose the person you love."

Alexei's expression drooped a bit. "Thank you, lord Antonov."

"It is a great tragedy that your daughter will grow up without her mother," Lady Antonov said to him.

That's rich, coming from you, you thought to yourself as you held back a scoff.

You looked between your parents and Alexei, who was growing paler by the second. Now that they mentioned it, you remembered that the Alianovic heir was a young widower with a little daughter. His wife had died in some horrible horse riding accident.

"Ana is too young to know any different," Alexei said sadly. "Though sometimes it seems like she misses her mother."

You somberly clasped your hands together and offered him a sympathetic look. Unlike your scheming parents, you truly did feel for him.

"It can't be easy to raise a young child on your own, but I am sure you're giving her the best life you can," you smiled softly.

"I've seen him with little Ana; there is no father more attentive and caring than Alexei," Nikolai said. Alexei bowed his head a bit at the compliments.

"Ah, but what life is it for a young girl to live without a mother?" Lady Antonov spoke up again. You nearly glared at her blatant attempt at setting you on this poor man. "When I think of all the things I have taught my own daughter, I can't imagine a man ever understanding what it's like. My daughter knows how close a bond can grow between mothers and daughters--knows how important that relationship is--don't you, my dear?"

She cast you a look; a warning and a warm smile and a quick condescension all rolled into one.

You nodded, holding back the bitter taste that jumped into your throat. You tore your eyes from her to look over at Alexei again.

"I feel for your Ana in what she has lost." You expressed all your empathy as you spoke to him. "The pain of losing a mother is unimaginable… losing someone so important in life, especially as a child, isn't easy for anyone."

Your mother stiffened a touch. Your father did too.

"But you sound like an excellent father to Ana. You should be proud." You softly smiled at him.

Alexei nodded at your words. "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind."

"And you are very patient to have weathered my parents' barrage of questions."

Nikolai almost snorted at your joke. Your parents did not have the same reaction. For a brief second, you saw their anger; then they forced a laugh, playing off your words.

"You'll find our daughter is quite spirited at times, Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov commented. She was still saving face after you'd insulted her and your father.

"I don't mind it," Alexei chuckled quietly. "She has the same humour as my late wife did."

Your parents began engaging Alexei in a real conversation, and Nikolai took the moment to slowly step up beside you.

"Saints, your parent's methods are brutal," he murmured so only you could hear. "Your mother especially."

"Tell me about it." You restrain from rolling your eyes.

Nikolai let his volume grow just slightly as his words became innocuous again. "I'm going to the shore tomorrow."

"As in the shore of the true sea? How long will that take?" You raised a brow.

"My envoy will be gone for a full month. But I promise to write to you." He smiled then grew quiet again. "Can't leave you completely alone with these maniacs, now can I?"

You almost laughed.

Bells outside your opera box signaled that the show was about to continue, so Nikolai and Alexei took their leave. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. At least, until you got into the carriage going home.

"It was good of that impish king to introduce you to Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov began. "He stands to inherit quite a large title from his father, you know."

You nodded then rested your head against the carriage's side wall. "I know, mother."

"Stop slouching," she huffed.

"It is just us three, mother."

"I don't care. You will sit up straight, you stubborn little girl." Her eyes were hard.

You glanced at your father beside you. You were searching for a shred of support from him since sometimes he would not leave you to fight her alone. But tonight he did not offer even a glance in your direction. He just stared boredly at the darkness outside his window.

Your eyes crossed to hers again. Your hand began itching as you sat up straight.

"That's better, daughter of mine." Her hands folded on her lap. "You nearly ruined things tonight."

"Ruined what? Lord Alexei liked me," you said, holding back an eye roll.

"You nearly told him. And the king."

You pursed your lips, scratching at a dotted scar on your knuckle. "I did not."

"You were quite close to it."

"I was not."

"You spoke of loss."

"So?" You sighed heavily. "I was sympathizing with Lord Alexei--and in case you didn't notice, he liked me better for it."

The carriage arrived home and you stepped out before the chauffeur could open the door for you. You hurried inside, heading upstairs to your suite rooms. But Lady Antonov was hot on your tails.

"Stop, dear," she commanded.

You did not stop. You kept climbing the stairs. But she grabbed your arm before you could get inside your room.

"You're a little ingrate, girl, but fortunately you're still my daughter. And as my daughter, you will shut up and do what I tell you to do and say what I tell you to say."

Her hand tightened on your arm. Her voice was low, but sharp as a hound's bite.

"If I tell you to jump, you'd better be in the air. If I tell you to keep your mouth shut about your beginnings, you'd better sit silently with a pleasant smile on your face and remember how lucky you are to be where you are."

Her other hand went to grip your chin. You could feel her nails dig into your face ever so slightly.

"Do you understand me, daughter?" She hissed.

You nodded, and her grip tightened on your chin.

"I want to hear you say it, girl."

"I understand, mother." You grit out

She kept you locked there for a moment longer, then she let go of you. "Go to bed. You look unkempt."

You said nothing as you went into your room and shut the door behind you. You held it together until you got to your bed, then you fell apart. You clamped a hand over your mouth to staunch the sobs as tears poured over onto your cheeks.

……….

A month passed by slowly. You were paraded around by your parents, your mother in particular, to every party and gathering among nobles and high-ups in Os Alta. Each outing was more miserable than the last.

You would dance and drink, and dance and drink, and dance and drink, while your mother plotted conversations and chance encounters with any man she deemed suitable. She had a knack for finding the richest man in the room; no wonder she had married your father all those years ago.

Tonight was one such night like all the rest. Though tonight you promised yourself to abstain from drinking. The hangover after your last outing with your parents had confined you to your bed for half the day, and you needed to keep sharp for tomorrow. Nikolai was returning home from the western shore to a small celebratory dinner at the Grand Palace. He sent an invitation to you with your usual letters, though you could hardly describe them as usual.

What started with Nikolai's quest to find you a suitor had developed into a weekly correspondence that did not stop even as he traveled the country on kingly duties. In fact, your most recent letters from him only contained a couple of names for you to consider. You had written that he must be giving up hope, and he replied that he was vetting potential husbands based on the critiques you had given so far–of which there were plenty to pull from, he mused.

Lady Antonov extended a glass of bubbly to you but you shook your head. She rolled her eyes and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of the glass

"Drink and socialize," she ordered.

"I have the king's dinner tomorrow, mother," you told her.

She suppressed a frown, lowering her voice in case she said anything treason-worthy. "I don't care about that lousy boy and his dinner. General Halinsky was good enough to invite us this evening and I won't have you sulking in the corner. Now, go make nice with all the soldiers. And look for a myriad of medals on their chests, dear. Don't settle for one or two."

With her instructions in your head, you walked about the room, slipping in and out of conversations with ease. The older men all wore many honourable medals pinned to their jackets, and the younger ones wore few. Conversation flowed better with the young men, while the older men spoke of things that had no bearing in your life. They laughed about old missions across the fold and complained about the decline of the nation. You tried to boost this perception, saying how you believed in the king's abilities, but they were quick to dismiss you.

"King Nikolai is too involved in the first army," the evening's host, General Halinsky, griped. "The old king used to leave the commanding to real commanders, but our boy king thinks he can boss us all around just because his daddy got him a few medals and promotions during his time as a soldier."

You took the opportunity to defend him. "His highness earned those promotions on the battlefield. He--"

"He made major by 17. I made major by 23. The boy obviously had help from his father."

"What an unfortunate and incorrect assumption on your part, General," you said with a bright smile, the kind of smile that these men expected to see from a young woman like you. "His highness got the promotion at 17 because he was obviously better at the job than you ever were."

You walked off after that, absorbing yourself in a discussion between two younger soldiers of the benefits of first and second army mingling. You sipped on your drink and politely smiled back at Halinsky anytime you felt his eyes driving into the side of your head. You upset the host, and your mother was guaranteed to be livid, but you couldn't care less. If defending Ravka's king made people upset, then maybe they deserved to be upset.

One of the young soldiers you were speaking to was laughing at your mediocre jokes with the fervour of a dog playing fetch. Only two medals were pinned to him, and you pitied his efforts in this losing battle. He seemed nice enough, but nice isn't a quality your mother would forgive two medals for. Rich would do better, but he lacked the obnoxious refinement to be truly wealthy.

Your father permitted you to go home early after you sweetly lied and said you had a terrible headache. You didn't see your mother's face as you left, but you were sure she'd be furious. It was her thought that you were more salable when you were there to be paraded around. Without you present, any talks of you would be diminished.

Still, you were in no mood to stay.

By the time you were in your carriage travelling home, you felt exhausted. With a sour taste in your mouth, you thought about how this was yet another outing that proved unsuccessful. Not a single one of the men you'd met merited any sort of consideration.

While you normally would have written to Nikolai or read one of his letters after a night like this, you didn't have anything to write which couldn't be said to him at his dinner. You would speak with him then, and all would be right.

……….

Dinner was four courses of quick conversation and good-natured travel stories, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were sat with one-third of the Grisha triumvirate to your left and a West Ravkan captain Nikolai brought back with him on your right. You were one of the only guests not part of the first or second army, and you could count on one hand the number of guests middle-aged or older. It was a young and well-versed group Nikolai pulled together.

As the king and one of his long-time first army friends recalled an embarrassing moment in their training to the eager ears of a heartrender and several first army soldiers, you turned to David, asking him about his recent work. He had your complete attention as he described a sort-of rocket launcher that was meant to couple with an inferni’s abilities.

The captain on your other side joined your conversation at this point, and he maintained a puzzled look in his eyes as he tried to figure out the schematics of David’s new contraption. You had to admit, the captain was easy on the eyes, with a decent jawline and an endearing batch of freckles on his face. You suspected that Nikolai didn't have a singular focus of politics when bringing him to Os Alta. Based on your limited conversation over dinner, the captain met all of your criteria thus far; he was handsome, conversational, and he had a sweet disposition that hadn't been spoiled by the hardship he'd endured in war.

Though you still had to wonder what kind of financial situation he was in; your mother considered anyone with less than two villas a pauper, so she had high standards when it came to the wealth of a suitor. You doubted that whatever amount of wealth the captain had would suffice.

Some of the Grisha returned to the Little Palace after dinner, but most of the guests stuck around. Those who remained were directed to the drawing room after dinner, and you followed after the group, slowing your steps as you travelled through the gallery. Your eyes wandered the portraits and landscapes, closely following every brushstroke.

You halted completely when you looked up at a picture of the royal family. In this depiction, Nikolai was about the same age as he was when you first met him. A frown encroached on your lips as you stared at the oil painting. To think you might have married him. You might have walked past this painting for the rest of your life, but you let your resentment at your parents bubble over and you sided against them in the argument of your engagement. Now it didn't look like you would find anyone to marry.

"You'd better hurry or the brandy will be gone," Nikolai said as he sidled up beside you, a good-natured smile on his lips.

"Then it's good I'm not known to drink brandy."

He grinned. “So you’ve chosen to admire the gallery, then?”

“Correct,” you said as you pointed at a painting of a harbour. “I don’t understand how artists do it. How they can commit the real world to canvas like that.”

“You’re quite the artist yourself,” he said with a small smirk. You gave him a confused look and he chuckled again. “That drawing that you sent with your second last letter? Of the stuffed bear you had as a child?”

You rolled your eyes. “I only drew that because you expressly commanded a sketch of him after I briefly mentioned him in a letter."

“Well, I wished to know what this beloved bear looked like,” he playfully defended. “You can’t blame me for that. Besides, it was a lovely drawing.”

“That sketch was abysmal; I’m no artist,” you sighed.

“I thought it was a perfectly charming drawing of… remind me of the bear’s name again?”

You huffed softly. “Viktor.”

“Yes. Viktor.”

"I called him Vik."

“And who gave you Vik?”

“A friend,” you answered truthfully, despite how much you knew you should lie.

“A friend,” echoed Nikolai. “Was he a brown bear?”

“No, he was grey.”

“Grey? That is rather unusual,” he grinned. “And, let me guess, you were so attached to Vik that you took him all the way with you to Ketterdam and back as a little travel companion."

Your heart raced. You shouldn’t be telling him more about this. You sighed and scratched the back of your hand. The tiny dotted scar on your knuckle itched like nothing else as your thumb soothed over it.

"Actually, no. We parted ways many years ago when I was five. Firepox spread through our household and I fell ill with it. Once it ran its course and I recovered my parents insisted that all my toys should be burned for risk of future infection."

He frowned softly. "That's too bad."

"It is," you admitted quietly.

A moment of quiet settled in the tall gallery as you both stood there. It was a sad memory you’d just divulged, and a memory that your parents would rake you across the coals for if they knew you’d told him. Still, a part of you was glad to tell him that. You rarely thought about the artifacts of your childhood, let alone voiced their ghostly memories.

Nikolai turned to face the painting nearest to you both. His eyes softened on the portrait of his family.

"That was the last portrait ever painted of my family all together like that. We sat for it only a couple of months before I left for school."

"That was around the same time we first met.”

“We met as infants, I believe,” he said, looking at you again.

You straightened out a bit. “Right. I suppose we did."

"Our second meeting, then. Do you remember it?" He gave a charming smile.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "How could I forget? Lady Antonov made me wear a frilly monstrosity of a dress. It was ghastly."

"I will concede that you looked a bit like a puff pastry," he chuckled. His eyes scanned over the deep purple gown you wore now. "You seem to have developed a better sense of style since then; your gown this evening is quite lovely."

"Thank you," you said softly. Your hands clasped together again as you scratched at the apex of your first knuckle. "If I remember correctly, you barely spoke to me when we met all those years ago."

"I was fourteen, I probably didn't have much to say anyway," he shrugged.

"I don't believe that for a second."

Nikolai stared at you for a moment. It was hard to say if it was his kingly presence or the softness of his hazel eyes that had your chest constricting a bit.

"You want the truth?" He quietly asked, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Yes,” you nodded.

"I was afraid to make a fool of myself in front of you. I figured that the less I said, the less I could mess up."

He sounded like a boy as he spoke. His voice was vulnerable and young at that moment, a stark contrast to his broad, regal frame. Outwardly, he presented as a proud and strong figure, but on the inside, there was a youth and inexperience to his words.

"I was always afraid of messing up too. My parents were so insistent about our engagement. To them, I had to be perfect to keep our engagement intact," you quietly confessed. "If I knew we wouldn't end up married I would have stopped trying to be perfect for them a long time ago."

He pursed his lips as his eyes flitted to your hands for a second. You forced your itching fingers to be still, clamping them over your irritated skin.

"I'm sorry for any discomfort you might have endured from your parents since I broke it off. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm used to it." You gave a wry smile. Then you attempted a joke, “Finding a new fiancee is considerably harder than I thought, though.”

“So I've heard,” he chuckled slightly.

“Maybe my expectations are too high, but every suitor is too much of one thing, not enough of another. It’s an impossible task.”

“I take it that you weren’t charmed by Captain Balandin, then?”

You sighed. “He’s better than most. Kinder, younger, and more handsome than the men my mother pushes me towards, but I don’t know if he’s eligible.”

“He is single if you’re concerned,” Nikolai said as he furrowed his brows.

You shifted on your feet a bit as your face warmed. “This is going to sound incredibly greedy, but is he two villas kind of rich?”

“Two villas? Saints, no. The man is a soldier. He has a modest house in Os Kervo and a less modest apartment here in Os Alta. Otherwise, he travels around with the army.”

“Then my parents would never approve.” You let out an exhale. “Things are looking bleaker, Nikolai.”

“Don’t despair. You’re young, beautiful, clever, and you have an incredible fortune to your name,” he said half jokingly. “I am sure that there are plenty of suitors who meet your lengthy list of requirements.”

“Really? Where?” you groaned softly. You smiled slightly at him, glancing at the other end of the gallery. “I think I'll take that brandy now."

He offered you his arm and escorted you back to the other guests.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist --- Part 4

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