#sturmhond x reader

[criminalamnesia]

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.

[mr-mandalorian]

there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.

nikolai lantsov x reader, arranged marriage, angst/comfort, haven’t read to books so this strictly follows season 2

she was promised to the second prince. she didn’t know it at the time, but nikolai was the one to plead his parents to accept the deal. what a scene she caused that day, her father squeezing her arm a little too tight as he presented her to the royal family. she was all polite smiles and curated answers, her beauty undeniable in her satin gown. it was a perfected act, nikolai could only watch in amusement as guards swarmed her. when he reached to greet her with a kiss on her hand, she slashed at him with a hidden blade.

from that moment on, he knew that she would always be the woman to hold his heart.

and she hated herself for harboring similar feelings. she was an only daughter, an asset her father was sure to exploit. the last thing she expected was to find a kind man by her side, one who shared the same distaste for arranged union. when nikolai was preparing for sea, he didn’t ask for her to follow him. she was free to do as she pleased, and yet she chose to go after him.

and she was proving herself to be a valuable part of the crew. direct yet diplomatic, trusted by all as she unintentionally took the place of second in command. at times when there was a difficult decision to make, she felt crowds of eyes pointed at her instead of their captain. she didn’t mean to overstep, but the prince never dimmed her light.

she watched as the first army bowed to nikolai, the ravkan wind suffocating compared to the salt water breeze. and when no one took notice of the soon to be princess, she stayed silent. she should’ve been pleased, no longer a bride but just an acquaintance of nikolai’s that happened to tag along. and yet somehow it stung, feeling restless and out of place in the spinning wheel.

so when nikolai proposed to alina and turned to her for approval, she could only offer him stunned silence. y/n was no fool, she understood the need for this calculated move. and who was she to deny him? a prince was free to do his own bidding.

“dorogoya, please say something. it’s not like you-“

“right away, my prince.” she wished for the earth to open and swallow her whole, how embarrassing as she fumbled with her pockets, looking for the piece of jewelry that was just another secret out at sea. “you’ll be needing this.”

“you- you had this with you the entire time?” nikolai couldn’t help but grin as she revealed the engagement ring. he understood the weight of it, how she was never given a choice of who got to place it on her finger. and yet, when she was free to get rid of it, she continued to keep it on her person.

“just in case i needed something to trade if you ever got captured by pirates again.” she tried to save grace, ears tinting pink.

“you wound me, moya lyubov. you know i’m too good to let it happen again.”

his charm wasn’t working, y/n not in the mood for pet names without meaning. her eyes found alina and mal on the other side of the room, having their own quarrel about the proposal. she couldn’t help but feel like her and the tracker were the same.

“y/n, listen. i know you never wanted this and now we have a reason to end it. take as much as you need, your father won’t hear a word about it. return to sea, or-“ he cleared his throat, somehow more nervous asking this than her hand in marriage. “or stay as my advisor. it would be foolish of me to let go of your talents.”

hearing these words years ago would’ve had her over the moon. she’d be overjoyed, running through the door without saying goodbye. and yet she found herself unable to move, her breath hitching at his offer. he was giving her a reason to stay.

“i suppose it would be dangerous to leave you without supervision.” she tried her best to look nonchalant, but if a heartrender walked by, surely they’d think she was having a heart attack.

watching sturmhond flirt his way out of tricky situations was one thing, but seeing the way the prince treated his new lyubov was another. it was once y/n that got to intertwine their fingers, got to hear sweet nothings fall from his lips. it was all pretend but she couldn’t help the ugly feeling blooming inside her chest.

“i see changing brides is as easy as changing clothes, brother.” vasily mused after the engagement became public over dinner.

“good riddance to that feral girl you were so obsessed with before, no amount of money attached to her family could make her a worthy princess.” the queen nodded along, eyeing her second son.

alina watched as nikolai flexed his jaw, ignoring his family. instead his eyes were roaming the crowd, searching for someone. and when he found who he was looking for, alina had to bite down a gasp. there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.

“y/n, it seems congratulations are in order.” zoya leaned over the the table, a smirk painted on her lips. “you’ve managed to escape a boring, pompous royal life.”

“pardon?” tamar leaned in just as close from the other side, nearly brushing noses with zoya.

“seriously? am i the only one who remembers that y/n was promised to nikolai?” the squaller stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. it should’ve been, but people only cared for saints.

y/n placed a gentle hand on tamar’s shoulder, ordering her friend to back down. instead she raised her glass, deciding the next best thing was to drown her sorrows. and soon she was laughing, her head thrown back like she was back at sea, enjoying a late night drink with her crew. with liquid courage and burning cheeks, she extended her hand to mal. she felt the need to cheer the tracker up.

her vision was becoming difficult as she danced, failing to notice that mal had twirled her into someone else’s arms. it was only when he spoke did she realize the warm hand on the small of her back belonged to her beloved prince.

“i barely get to see you now, moya lyubimaya.”

“don’t call me that.” she exhaled in content, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to the slow song playing.

“it’s never bothered you before.”

“i didn’t care if it was real or not before.” she admitted, the poison in her veins untying her tongue.

“and what if i said it had always been real, moya lyubimaya?”

“i would call you a liar.” she looked up at him, so beautiful with her doe eyes and long lashes. and then she was pulling away, leaving the prince lonely in a room full of people.

there was little time for sulking after that. the spinning wheel fell under attack and y/n was second in command once again. it was like second nature to stand besides nikolai, ordering people around and keeping the situation from spiraling further. when he was mulling over what to do with genya, she threw a warning glance his way. if an advisor he wanted, an advisor he would get.

there was no denying that they were good together. even when it came to facing the darkling and his army of grisha and shadow, y/n never lost her head. that was until the church, until a certain sharp shooting durast trapped them inside with a shadow of the size of two men. that was the only time y/n didn’t think, she just did as she pushed the now king out of the way, shielding him from the monster coming his way.

she couldn’t remember much after, just fragments of conversations and trembling hands trying to glue her back together. the thought of nikolai safe and sound lulled her to sleep.

when she rose, she was met with genya’s wide eyes. she was tending to her wound, the awful gash on y/n’s abdomen requiring everyday tailoring. the grisha smiled then, a genuine smile for the first time in days. she pulled away to reveal the king asleep in a chair next to y/n’s bed.

“wouldn’t leave your side.” genya whispered before walking over to wake him.

it was like he was struck by lightning, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed to the woman’s bedside. grasping her hand tightly in his, he thanked the saints with tears in his eyes.

“please, moy tsar, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“you will send me to an early grave, woman.”

“clearly, it will be the other way around.” she dared to glance down, genya having left her abdomen exposed. it wasn’t pretty, thick dark stitching slicing her belly in half. she nearly jumped out of her skin as the king placed his palm on top of it.

“see this scar?”

he nodded towards his hand, revealing a long pale line trailing through all of his fingers.

“this is where you cut me the day we met. i refuse to get it tailored, to keep as reminder of you everywhere i go.”

“nikolai-“

“i know it was an act of protest, but you had me falling head over heels. from that moment on, i knew you’d be the one for me. my second in command, i would fall apart without you by my side. i had this whole grand gesture planned, to make up for how you were treated before. but i can’t wait a second longer.”

he pulled out the ring y/n had returned him. suddenly it held no weight to it, it was light as a feather sitting on her finger. like it was always meant to be there.

“and what of your pervious engagement?”

“well my advisor was out of commission for a while, so i haven’t really thought it through.” she rolled her eyes at the king’s teasing. but she couldn’t help but allow herself to smile, wiping the smug look off his face with a kiss.

[syllvane]

beginnings- nikolai lantsov x reader

In another life, you might have found him handsome.

You might have been attracted to his golden hair and the arrogance that he carried with him, but it was hard to be attracted to him when your hands were locked and he had the key.

Besides, you don’t have room in your life for romantic machinations 

“You know, I think what’s been throwing me off is that you’re too pretty to be a criminal.” He said towards you and Jesper and Kaz fell silent.

Oh you were never going to hear the end of this.

“We should see how pretty you think I am when I break your fingers.” You retorted, slowly and silently working on the lock mechanism.

“Promise?” He replied almost instantly and your fingers stopped working for a second, stumbling at his response. “Oh, that reminds me, Alina Starkov. She-”

You tuned him out as you undid the rest of your restraints, starting to plot your escape from here.

The window was likely your best and only option, with guards conversing outside of the door behind you three, and the Sturmhond blocking the door in front.

The pirate caught your attention once again by producing more Kruge than you had ever seen at once in his hand, setting it down on the table.

“Twenty seconds,” he nodded to Kaz, turning to leave before looking at you, catching your eye one last time. “You could always join my crew. Always looking for new talent.”

“Go to hell.” You shot back and a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Worth a shot.” He said while walking through the pair of double doors.

Both you and Kaz shot out of your seats, Kaz walking towards the Kruge and you towards the window, which luckily had a landing empty of guards.

“I can’t believe he was flirting with you. A little help?” Jesper said, half-annoyed and Kaz tossed a coin towards him. You rolled your eyes.

“What am I supposed to… when did you know? That I’m a Durast?” Jesper asked, his voice growing soft as he transformed the coin into a lock pick with nothing but his hands.

“In the train, when we were crossing the Fold, in the train. And besides, when you shoot, you never miss and no one is that good.”

“I don’t-”

“Neither of us are gonna out you, Jes.” You said, half-focused on the guards trying to break through the door.

“I appreciate it, but I’m more interested in hearing that from him.”

You turned to Kaz. His eyes never left Jesper.

“I’m not going to out you.”

Jesper gave Kaz a single nod, the handcuffs falling to his feet.

“Let’s go.” You said, one leg already out the window.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

hiii! maybe one bed trope with Nikolai??? please!!

Don't mind if I do...

One Bed - Nikolai Lantsov

Content Warnings: Suggestive Content. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy , @writingmysanity

You stare at Nikolai, arms crossed, an unimpressed look on your face and Nikolai tries not to smirk. "You didn't feel like mentioning this aspect of it all?" you ask, gesturing to the room. He shrugs.

"I said we would be having to pose as a husband and wife for this," he reminds you. "Mrs Sturmhond."

"So you did know this was going to happen," you state looking at the one bed in the room you've been given to share.

"I knew it was a possibility," he says, unable to keep the laughter from his voice.

"You are a scoundrel," you tease him, giving him a gentle shove.

"Come on," he gives you a smirk, and you want to do anything to keep him looking at you, "it could be worse."

"Could it now, pray tell," you joke.

"I could have sent Tolya to pretend with you," he offers, "he snores."

"Yes but at least Tolya is immune to my charm," you say.

"Oh is that what worries you love?" he asks. You give him the most convincing laugh you can.

"Not at all Captain," you say, "because you're sleeping on the floor."

"I am your Captain," he reminds you. "Besides if you cannot resist me just tell me as much and I will respect you conceding."

"You wish," you say, not meeting his eye. The look drops from that of a jokester to a more smug look, the longer you won't meet his eye.

"Oh, that really is the reason isn't it darling?" he asks.

"Stop talking," you tell him. "Or I will make you sleep on the floor."

You lay staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to think about anything else, literally any other thing than Nikolai beside you. You can feel the weight of his breathing, the heat of his skin radiating between you. You feel like you're going crazy.

"Love," he says, his voice heavy with sleep. "If you are getting this restless I can-,"

"It's fine," you say. "I just cannot get comfortable."

"Okay," he mumbles, rolling over and snaking an arm around your torso, pulling you closer to him, embracing you in the warmth and sleep. Your breath hitches and you feel yourself freezing up and he pulls his arm away instantly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-,"

"No," you reassure him, "it's fine. It's nice... I just wasn't expecting it."

"May I?" he whispers against your ear, you give a small nod and he returns to holding you. You can feel his heart beating against your back, the gentle exhales of breath against your skin.

"Nikolai?" you whisper into the darkness.

"Yes?"

"You fidgeting," you tell him, feeling the gentle taps of his fingers against the skin above your hip, a soft repeated pattern, soothing in its own right, but right now, with him, you feel like it is setting your skin on fire.

"Am I?" he asks.

"If you keep doing that, I can't promise I'll behave," you say honestly. His hand doesn't still, but you feel him chuckle. You realise he thinks you're joking. "Kolya," you say, voice coming out more sultry than you meant it to, but it wakes him from his sleepy state with a jolt. You turn your head to meet his eyes, a look of seriousness in them.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, a grin threatening to break his poise.

"No," you admit, rolling over to face him, "but I wouldn't advice you continue."

"Why is that?" he asks, nudging closer.

"Because we are in someone else's bed," you remind him. He chuckles.

"Fair point."

The sunlight flits in and the bright orange strips of light catch the dust floating, bringing you back to your consciousness. Nikolai's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, and his hair is all dishevelled with small wisps betraying the natural direction of his hair. You cannot help but smile at how soft he looks, and you gently correct some of the stray tendrils. A quiet laugh breaks through Nikolai's tired smile. "You okay there love?" he asks, not opening his eyes.

"Why do you call me that?" you ask, and his hand finds yours, lacing his fingers between yours.

"Because I like the way you blush when I do," he admits. You know his smugness is half of his charm but right now you want to shove him.

"We need to get up, they will be expecting us," you remind him. He shrugs slightly.

"I mean they think we are newly weds, they'd probably expect us to be a little late," he teases, running his thumb gently under your chin.

"Get up," you tell him, slipping out of bed. He watches you, sitting up.

"Why would I want to get up when I could stay right here, with you giving me that look?" he asks, crossing his arms over the bedsheet.

"Because if you get up, and we get those over with, I might just let you finish what you started," you say. And you're sure you've never seen Nikolai move so quickly.

"What are you waiting for love?" he asks buttoning up his shirt. "I am sure they're expecting us."

[corpsebasil]

Can you do smut with Nikolai getting a blowjob? Like he’s always going down on the reader so like the roles switch or smth?

Time for Nikky Boy to get some action

warnings: p0rn with little plot lol; oral (m) receiving

————

You felt slightly unhinged.

You’d been your Prince’s lover and crew-mate for a while now and while you were into him with his royal suits and combed hair, something about the tousled curls and privateer persona made your stomach twist.

You leaned against the wall during the meeting he’d called you into, listening as the Sun Summoner and..whatever his name was, discussed passage. You felt your skin growing tight as you watched his side profile, your eyes transfixed on his mouth as he spoke, his intimidating nature distracting you from guarding him.

He’d always been this way as Sturmhond. He turned up the charm times a thousand, pulled out every cocky and sarcastic comment in his arsenal and even around you, who knew better, he shamelessly flirted with as if he wasn’t a prince.

As soon as the two left Nikolai ran a hand over his face, leaning back into his chair. He glanced over at you, blue eyes shadowed by the dim lighting of his office as he raised an eyebrow.

“Whatcha thinkin’?” He asked, standing up to shrug off his heavy coat. His pistol lay discarded on the desk, a tool used to threaten Alina and Baldie, and you’d almost laughed earlier when he’d taken it out. “Let em’ stay?”

It took you a moment to respond as he pushed the sleeves up of his white shirt, the top few buttons undone. The golden skin of his arms caught the light of the lanterns and you nodded, forcing yourself to focus.

“I don’t see why not.” You said breezily, one boot propped against the wall, your arms crossed over your chest. “But we both know you’re not just in this for money.” You smirked. “You gonna sell her to yourself? Accept the reward you’re offering?”

“Nothing like a bit of motivation.” He said, his grin a slash of white as he shuffled some papers on his desk, tapping them together in a neat stack. “We need a symbol. She’s that.”

“She seems..” you furrowed your brows. “…less confident than she acts. I know a front when I see one.”

“Oh yeah?” Nikolai teased, approaching you. “How many fronts have you seen in your lifetime, soldier?”

“Enough to know when someone’s acting.” You purred, but your pulse betrayed you as he neared, his hand reaching out to grab onto your belt loop and yank you into him.

“And what front are we putting on, love?” He asked, eyes heavy-lidded as he leaned in, lips pressing against the side of your neck. Your head tilted involuntarily at the sensation. “Solider and Captain?” He asked, lips moving lower. “Prince and Grisha?” He nipped your skin and you jolted, your hand grabbing onto his generous bicep. “Friends?”

“We are friends.” You mumbled, breath catching as he bit and then licked over a spot on your collarbone.

“We haven’t been friends for a while, sweetheart.” He chuckled and pulled away, headed to the door. “We should go and—”

But you stopped him, lunging out to grab his wrist. He turned in surprise, raising his brows. His eyes seemed to scan over your face, taking in your flushed features; your pulse was beating so fast in your neck you were sure he could see the skin jump. His smirk was lazy as he locked the door and moved back over, his heavy-ringed hand reaching for your waist.

“Desk or wall?” He murmured against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling. But you surprised him by pushing him backwards, towards his chair, separating your mouth from his as he dropped down into it. His hands were already going to his belt as you hovered over him, your teeth sinking down harshly into your lip. “Shit—you want to ride me, or—?”

“No.” You interrupted, ignoring his confused look as you sank down onto the floor, grasping at his waistband. His stunned look lasted approximately .5 seconds before he was helping you get him out of his trousers, a sheen of sweat already appearing on his brow.

“Fuck—are you sure?” Nikolai asked, a bit breathless as he watched you drag the rest of his clothing separating you from him off, leaving him only in his dress shirt. You’d done this before, sure, but drunkenly and only for about thirty seconds before he couldn’t wait any longer to have you. “What’s gotten into you—” his mouth fell open when you took him in your hand, experimentally running your closed fist down the smooth skin of him. He gritted his teeth.

“Been thinking about you the whole meeting.” you mumbled, moving further between his legs. “Looking like a fucking godsend.” Your words had his eyes half closed into slits as you licked the tip of him, feeling his hips stutter around you. One of your hands rested on his firm thigh as you licked again, a tiny kitten lick that drove him crazy.

“Yeah?” He panted, his hands gripping the sides of his chair as he watched you; your tongue ran along the length of him, your hand following the rise and descent of your soft muscle. “Fuck—what were you thinking of?”

“This.” You admitted and ran your tongue over the head of him. “You being all cocky and shit turns me on.”

“We always do fuck the filthiest when I’m Sturm—shit.” His head fell back a fraction when you took him into your mouth, sucking slowly, your mouth getting him as wet as you could to make it easier. His chest was already rising and falling rapidly and you’d barely started. “Y/N, shit.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, and took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks out as you began a slow, torturous rhythm with your mouth. The warmth of you—the wetness—it was driving him mad. Especially when you began sucking him harder, your tongue spoiling him with licks and swirls, your eyes watering at the feeling of something so big filling your entire mouth.

“Saints—” he groaned, reaching out to take a fist of your hair, trying not to pull too hard as his hips lifted a fraction. When your eyes moved to his he almost lost it. He gritted his teeth and, when you didn’t protest, began to set the pace himself, your tongue and hollowed cheeks squeezing him so hard it was almost painful. “Oh god.”

The breathy plea left him and you didn’t stop, your nails digging into his thigh as he used your mouth, hips lifting to meet your lips with every downward push. The sounds he was making were music to your ears; you could hear his breath catching, your eyes locked on his face as he cursed and gasped, trying to stay as silent as possible with the crew not far from his office.

You felt him twitch and you sucked harder, his eyes closing and his head falling back on a barely suppressed groan. You swallowed up every bit of him, almost gagging as you choked, but when you pulled away and wiped your mouth off, he was staring at you with such a fucked-out look of adoration it sent a pang of desire straight between your legs.

“Saints, Y/N.” He mumbled, sweat making his curls stick to his forehead. “Desk, now.”

lololol

[wheres-mylove]

privateer’s treasure | sturmhond!nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

Summary: The infamous privateer finds himself something extremely valuable - a soulmate. But now he must face a pirate captain who is convinced that his beloved daughter was kidnapped by Sturmhond. It's quite complicated.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!

Word count: 1.8k

The tavern was lit by the dim candlelight. There was a buzz of conversation not fit for a sensitive listener. Someone smashed the bottle of rum and got a solid reprimand from the owner. A night like any other.

“Son of a bitch,” Nikolai snapped and placed a pint of beer on the table with a loud bang. “Old coot. He just had to do it.”

“And do you have to use that gutter language?” asked Tolya, giving his friend an amused look. “This is exactly what the pirate world looks like, you know it. It's not the first time someone's stolen your job.”

“It was an extremely large and an extremely profitable one,” Lantsov continued with a scowl, leaning against a wooden bench. "Anyway, what kind of nickname is that, Silverbeard? He's just pointing out that he's gray and old. Should definitely retire.’’

Tolya miraculously refrained from laughing at the sight of his face. Like a disappointed child whose toy has been taken away.

“I would rather say that he’s a key figure, but alright.” He patted Nikolai on the shoulder. “Cheer up a bit, Tamar is asking around.”

His Majesty graciously took another sip of his beer.

“I don’t think she will find something serious enough to...”

“I have dirt on our captain,” said Tamar in a singing voice, appearing as if on call. “I asked here and there. Silverbeard has a daughter.”

Lantsov almost choked on his booze. He side - eyed the Grisha. Tolya raised his eyebrows.

“Should I kidnap a child and blackmail him? What an amazing idea.”

Tamar sighed and shook her head in disapproval.

“The child is actually an adult. About your age. She’s a young, pretty lady with an attitude, so her father watches over her like a hawk.”

“Should I kidnap a woman and blackmail him then? Even better.”

“Oh, Saints,” the girl groaned, putting her elbows on the table. “I know it’s not really your way, but I’m not asking you to hurt her. Just.. pretend that you're going to. The captain will give us this job without a second thought, maybe even a ship. That girl is the key to not one, but several chests of gold.”

“I can capture a parrot. Or one of his deckhands. Did you find out which one he likes the most?”

Tolya forbade the future ruler to drink more. Tamar was still trying to reason with him. A girlish figure in a hooded cape sneaked unnoticed in front of the tavern.

The footbridge creaked under Nikolai's shoes. He gazed over the peaceful harbor for the last time. When the sun comes up, they'll be far, far away, sailing on the high seas.

He smiled, and at the same moment was almost thrown into the water by the force with which someone ran into him.

“Sorry!” cried a sweet voice, holding him by the shoulder. “It's your ship, isn't it? Are you leaving now? Will there be a place for me? I'll pay,” the girl hurriedly said, waving a purse of gold in front of his nose.

The privateer blinked a few times, not quite keeping up, which was unheard of. He placed both hands on the stranger's cloak-covered arms to fully regain his balance.

“I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” he said, trying to see his interlocutor’s face under the hood. “Are you trying to drown everyone you meet or am I special?”

The girl sighed impatiently and shoved the payment into his hand with quite comical stubbornness.

“I have no time, do you take it or not? Can I go with you?”

Lantsov sighed deeply and decided that he was in the mood to be a menace. He threw the hood off the girl's head in one swift motion. She frowned, and our boy thought he'd never seen a more beautiful person before.

“Not that heavy, that little fortune of yours,” he added, perhaps to make her furious. It seemed like she was going to curse him and his entire family, but she was in too much of a rush for that.

“I’ll scrub your deck, just take me,” she said and jumped onto the ship without waiting for an answer.

“What’s the fuss about?” asked Tamar, who came to see what was taking him so long.

“Some pretty girl came and started bossing me around,” he explained simply. “I don’t feel like a captain no more.”

“Maybe you will feel like one when you finally sail out?” yelled the stranger, to which Nikolai widened his eyes.

Tamar tried to hide a smile, but then grimaced.

“Aren’t you in some serious trouble, darling? Because these two gentlemen don’t look very friendly.”

“Shit!” the girl exclaimed, now also seeing the men running towards the harbor.

“A criminal, great,” Nikolai murmured with a sigh. “Okay, let’s go. At least my deck will be clean.”

He kept on tapping his fingers on the desk. What an annoying sound. The lovely fugitive was giving the privateer a death stare.

“Stop it.”

“This is my ship and my desk.”

“Why do you make me sit here?”

“Because I happen to be a curious person. Otherwise I wouldn't have sailed the seas,’’ Lantsov replied, giving her a crooked smile. “I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Did you drown someone?”

The girl got up from her chair, pulled down her cape, and put it on the backrest, revealing the green dress underneath. It suited her. Not that he was staring.

She began a slow march through the cabin.

“You got the gold, so I don't really owe you an explanation,” she began, then groaned, noticing the boy's finger up in the air. “And deck. Gold and deck.”

Nikolai nodded, leaned back more comfortably and put his feet up on the table.

“I didn't kill anyone, I didn't commit any crime at all. I decided that a change of surroundings would do me some good.”

“And those two cuties supported you in this decision?”

“Listen here.’’ She banged her fists on the desk, keeping his legs trapped in between her arms. He was beginning to enjoy it more and more. “You ask too many questions. Those men were harmless. It’s just... the remnants of a previous life.”

“Poetic,” the privateer remarked, tilting his head. “Okay then. I won't push. We'll start from the beginning. The name’s Sturmhond.”

Her mouth curled up in a smile. Not that he was looking at her lips.

“(Y/N),” she introduced herself and shook his hand. “And that nickname you have is a bit pretentious.”

Not that she thought about his name beforehand. And wondered why he's so captivating.

If Sturmhond noticed one thing, it was that (Y/N) had not yet taken the opportunity to leave them. And there have been several of them since she jumped on the ship. In the harbours, where he had some business to do. She could have turned on her heel and gone her own way. He wasn't going to say it out loud. But neither was he going to deny that quiet hope in his heart. That she'll stay with them forever. With him.

It turned out that life at sea was no stranger to her. She could do a lot more than scrub the deck. Water was her element, as was his. You could see it in her step, her eyes and her smile.

Like a bird set free.

Nikolai Lantsov didn't ask about her past. He didn't ask what she was running from. To be honest, he'd like to run away with her. Some things he hasn't told her yet, either. She didn't know she was sailing with the prince.

(Y/N) was like a treasure that found him on its own. Except every treasure had its price.

Sturmhond found out about that later, by facing Silverbeard's sword pointed at his chest.

“I’ve just come ashore. What is it?” he asked, raising his hands up. He looked back where Tamar and Tolya were reaching for their weapons.

“Draw your sword, bandit, we’ll do it the old way. But first you tell me where she is!” yelled the pirate, stepping forward. Tamar flexed her fingers on the axe.

“Who is where?” Nikolai looked at Silverbeard's men and had a feeling that he recognized them from somewhere.

“My daughter, you miserable rat! You kidnapped my only daughter and you're acting stupid. The sword!”

“I didn’t kidnap anyone. Especially your daughter. I mean, I was advised to do that, but...” Nikolai bit his tongue too late, and Tolya raised his eyes to the heavens.

“Saints, when you say something. Maybe we should all just calm down.”

“Oh, you were advised to do that? Who ordered this? What have you done with her?”

“I didn’t kidnap anyone! The old man is delirious,” groaned Lantsov.

“Dad?” (Y/N) jumped off the footbridge and emerged from behind Tolya's back, with shock painted on her face, staring straight at Silverbeard.

Nikolai looked at the girl, then at the captain with his mouth wide open.

“Fuck.”

Tamar started laughing nervously. (Y/N) stood between Sturmhond and her father. He slowly lowered his weapon, disbelieving his eyes.

“I kidnapped the girl that I was going to kidnap, but decided not to,” Sturmhond summed up in an emotionless voice. He felt the captain's furious gaze on him. “She kidnapped herself! She wanted to go with me!”

“That’s right, I asked him to help me,” confirmed (Y/N), then glanced apologetically at Sturmhond. “I am so sorry.”

“No, no, no problem. Your daddy loves me, he wouldn’t hurt me, now would ya?”

“I’m a little confused,” Tolya said suddenly.

“But why?” asked Silverbeard in a breaking voice. “Then why did you run away? You had everything you could ask for.”

“I lacked freedom, dad. He gave it to me.” The girl winked at Sturmhond, and he blushed like a youngster. “You couldn’t keep me in a gold cage forever. I want to sail. Without your constant protection.”

Silverbeard took a deep breath.

“There was no kidnapping. For clarity,” Nikolai said, putting his hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And she is a great sailor. If you are worried about her safety, she wasn’t and certainly will not be harmed on my ship.”

The old captain nodded, and with tears in his eyes summoned his daughter to him.

“We must have a drink,” Silverbeard said over the girl’s head, holding her tight. “I think we have a few things to discuss.’’

“I agree. Can you do me a little favour and put that sword away?”

(Y/N) grabbed Sturmhond's hand as he passed by.

“Maybe with a glass of rum in hand, but he'll still try to threaten you. Don't let him, okay?”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Sturmhond said, and taking advantage of the moment when Silverbeard turned his back on them and headed for the tavern, he quickly pecked her on the cheek.

“Pretty low for a privateer,” she observed, then kissed him, properly, on the lips.

Nikolai Lantsov smiled broadly. Slightly dumbfounded.

“Yes, your dad can definitely give me a preaching. You know what they sing about sailors and captains’ daughters.”

[igotanidea]

Nikolai Lantsov x inferni!reader : Traitor

It was the same nightmare over and over again. Making her wake up in the middle of the night in tears with heart beating way to fast and ragged breath.

If only it was just a nightmare.

But it was more.

It was a memory.

Flahsback

“Here she is. My favorite Inferni.” Darkling smiled with his brightest smile, greeting Y/N as she entered his chambers.

“General Kirigan” she acknowledged him without any hesitation in the voice, and yet screaming inside. He was nice, too nice and she knew exactly why. He needed something from her. More precisely, he needed her.

While everyone at court were fooled by Kirigan’s charm and well put-on pretenses, Y/N was the only one to see right through him. The king, the queen, all the Grishas…. So silly when confronted with his bright smile and practiced speaking.

If only Nik was here…

But “the puppy prince” left few years prior, leaving her alone to deal with the potential enemy of the state and it hurt like hell. Firstly, because it seemed like Nik never cared about her at all, secondly because all the court and royal family believed her to be insane and mentally impaired the very second she even hinted at Darkling’s intention being dishonest. Y/N knew he was searching for the sun summoner and why was he doing this, but had to keep it a secret. It was like being torn into two opposite direction. She had to protect the royal family and Ravka she swore an oath to and that came with exposing Darkling, but at the same she had to protect herself and that meant getting into general’s good graces to avoid getting hanged for treason. And still protect the Lantsov, even that fool or a price Vasily.

Being some sort of double agent came with a heavy price.

Poor girl.

This was why she was called upon Kirigan every night and walked into his chambers. He always wanted something in return for keeping her secrets. Sometimes he needed her big brain and Inferni skills, sometimes it was .... more .... but it always, always left her with scars.

“Please Y/N. There is no need for formalities here.” He eyed her with those predatory eyes

“Why am I here tonight, general?” Y/N asked, still keeping her head high, back straight and gaze hardened.

“I….” he took a step closer and waved a hand towards the guards dismissively. The men bowed and left immediately “I have needs tonight.”

“Why… why don’t you ask Zoya?” she hissed “she’ll be more than happy to help you with those.”

“Oh, yes, Zoya…. You are not really in the good terms lately, are you?” he smirked, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. “but then, you are not really anyone’s favorite Grisha, even in your own order, am I right?” his grip became unbearable “do not worry, dear. It’s a fair exchange. You give me that fire of yours and I keep you protected from anyone else” he muttered into her ear and she knew she was trapped for that night.

***

After everything she was left with pure hatred towards herself. She knew this was just a begging since intimacy was the first step. And after he made her a sobbing mess on his mercy, there were more …. practical tasks. Fires, strategies and plans she was always good at making.

But even with her help, Kirigan was slowly slipping. Slowly, yet consistently, and soon enough Grisha started seeing past his charm. Especially when he brought the sun summoner to the little palace. Y/N though herself to be smart enough to warn her about general’s purpose and tried to reach towards Alina.

Sadly, she was not.

And her attempt to warn miss Starkov ended up with the real, physical scars on her back. Those that could never properly heal even with Genya’s help.  The tailor was probably the only person in the palace who knew who did this to Y/N, but never said a thing. At least she was a bit of support.

However, the pain coming from the cuts was unbearable and was following her for days.

And so she made a decision to flee and search for Nikolai to bring him back to the country. She escaped during the night and when it was discovered the next morning she was quickly announced the wanted traitor.

***

She found Nikolai a few moments later, by accident, while walking the streets in some small village. She was exhausted and was slowly losing hope for the future when she heard noises coming from around the corner. A man and a woman, Shu, judging by the looks were laughing and bantering with each other and when Y/N raised her bloodshot eyes she saw the person she was so desperately looking for.

“Ni….” she started, but he was faster.

“Leave us.” He commanded his companions and only when they left he came towards her, wrapping arms around her. “Y/N” he whispered, breathing her in but quickly pulling away “you look terrible. And you could definitely use some cleaning.” He smirked “Why are you here?”

“Nik….” She sobbed desperately, tears falling from her eyes like a fountain she could not contain once they started “I….”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. Sh….” He hugged her tightly against his chest “you can tell me. Although I may have to warn you, no one here, except Tamar and Tolya knows my real identity. I’m Sturmhond.”

“The pirate?” she frowned, looking at him with surprise in the eyes

“Privateer….” He hissed “Now come on, whatever happened to you, you are safe now.”

He took her upon the ship and listened carefully to her story. She told him everything, except for the part how Darkling damaged her. It was not important, the country had to be put first. And it was, since they both created a plan to save it. First, get the sun summoner, secondly get Nik back to his prince-self and third, defeat the Darkling.

***

They were spending too much time together on the Volkvolny. There were to many jokes, silly fights and tension. And soon the crew started making ambiguous allusions to the character of their captain and the Inferni’s relationship. And Y/n soon had enough of it so gathering herself she confronted Nik about it.

“Captain, can I have a word with you?” she entered his cabin, not really caring what the answer would be.

“My favorite Inferni….” Unknowingly he used the same words as Darkling and it made her flinch “missed me that much?”

“With all those comments I hear all the time it feels like you are always with me” she rolled her eyes

“Is that why you are here? Came to make the rumors a reality?”

“Not exactly. I came to remind you I will never….” She never get to finish when with one long stride he was right in front of her, grabbing her waist and connecting their lips. At first she froze, shocked by the unexpected action but when he tried to pull away, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to her.

“You were saying….?” He muttered

“Oh, shut up…” Y/N locked her hands around his neck, wanting more and knowing he could give her that. She did not protest when he lifted her and walked her to the bed, laid her gently and slowly started to undress her. Saints, she wanted more and more and more, getting so greedy. “Nik….” Her little moan only spur him on.

“Tell me what you want…” Nikolai’s lips moved onto her neck, hands getting under her coat, caressing the skin on the sides and stomach.

“I want….” She panted and smiled lightly, teasingly “I want you to show me if you are truly as good as you are bragging to be.”

“Hm…” she smirked “not sure if you ready for this, love.”

***

As much as she hated to admit it, he was good. Really, really good and left her fully satisfied when she fell asleep in his loving embrace and woke up in them a couple hours later. Her back to his chest. 

“Where did you get those scars?” he muttered kissing along her neck and shoulder, avoiding the damaged skin.

“I…. I don’t really want to talk about it.” She sighed deeply “at least not yet.”

“That sentence just confirmed you see us together in the future. I mean, of course you do, you caught a prince, fireball. A big fish, am I not? ”

“You are unbelievable….” She turned to the other side to face him

“But you love me, don’t you? You admitted that quite a few times …”

“I hate you.” she punched his chest “what time is it? Isn’t your crew going to look for you?”

“Maybe. But those marks I left on you will be enough of the explanation.”

“Marks?” her eyes widened “oh my…..”

“Besides, I am also sure they heard you scream my name.”

“I’m going to kill you, Nik!”

“Come on, it was good, wasn’t it?” he caressed her shoulders “you can admit it, I won’t judge. After all, I am the one who lost his mind for you.”

“You lost your mind when you were a kid, and never found it since.”

“And all of it, because of a certain Inferni which I feel in love with.”

“What….?”

“I’m serious, Y/n.” he looked straight into her eyes “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Nik.”

“Great. Now that we got this covered, time to get up and get back to work!”

***

Besides that little unplanned thing, everything went smoothly. Soon, Alina and Mal joined the crusade and they all returned to Ravka happily, ready to stand against Kirigan. Sad part, old rumors did not die and soon, the prince heard about Y/N’s past and about her apparently being a traitor.

End of flashback

She was with Kirigan again. He was too close, causing her so much pain and she could not endure it all. Her skin aching, reddening and bruising. Again and again and again.

And that made her woke up. Sweaty, shaken and terrified, turning around and trying to reach to other side of bed but she found it empty. He was probably in the adherent room, listening to all his advisors and Grisha filling him in on the country situation.

“Nikolai?” she came thought the door and surprisingly found him alone, sitting on the chair, head hung low, running a hand through his hair. “What happened, my love?” in a second she was next to him grabbing his hand and caressing it gently.

“I… I’ve spoken to some people.” He started “about the country.”

“Is it that bad?”

„Were you conspiring with Darkling?” he said suddenly, his voice cold as ice and she could not recall any time in the past he was so indifferent towards her.

“What?” she gasped taking a step back, utterly terrified by that simple question. No,no, no, no. Oh, saint, please no.

“Answer me, Y/N. Were. You. Scheming. With him?” now his tone was angered, he was clenching his teeth to prevent himself from yelling.

“How could you even ask me that?” she stuttered, her heart breaking.

“I have every reason to suspect you have not been loyal. First of them being the fact you never told me about your past here. You were not ready to talk about it, huh? Now it would make sense why you have those marks on your back. This was punishment, wasn’t it?” he stood up, towering over her and suddenly she felt so small, so vulnerable against his rage. How could she ever explain it to him to make him understand?

“Nik…” poor girl trembled, hurt beyond any recognition “you don’t believe the rumors, do… do you?”

“Give me a reason not to.”

“You have no right to judge me! You don’t know what it was like! What is felt like to be forced to do things you don’t want to just to keep yourself alive!”

“Don’t I?” he looked straight into her eyes and that struck her with the force of lightning.

“You…. You really think what they say is true…. You….Oh my god, you think I am a traitor!” she cried and hid face in hands to avoid looking at him. He thought she betrayed the Lanstovs, so how come at this moment it felt like he was the one to do exactly the same to her.  

“I’m not accusing you of anything. “I just don’t….” he took a sharp breath and closed his eyes “I don’t want to see you right now. I need to think.“

“Nik….” She cried “Please, you have to listen to me…. It’s not what …..”

“What I have to is for you to leave.”

“Please!” she tried again, reaching for his hand, but he just turned around “Nik, I love you, I was nothing more than loyal, all my life and this is what I get in return?”

“Leave.” he commanded with his price voice

“No.” Y/N was not going to give up so easily

“Don’t make it any harder than it already is.” He warned coldly, but his eyes showed that it was painful for him as well.

“Let’s just talk about it, love, I’m begging you. Darkling, he….”

“I’m sorry Y/N….” his voice broke a bit “you leave me no choice….”

“So what, you are going to call your guards to escort me? Put me under lock and key until you clarify the situation?” she mocked “Don’t bother. I’ll make it easy for you. Might as well save any remnants of dignity I have left. “

 “I promise, you will get fair judgment if you cooperate.”

“Fair judgement? How…. How is this fair?” she sobbed “how is this fair that you believed them against me? I….. you know what? Fine. I’ll go.” Y/N angrily wiped away the tears and fixed her pants “You may not have Lantsov blood in your veins, moi tsar, but you surely act like one.” She turned around and walked away with the guards, missing that utterly broken and hurt expression on his face. But he had it coming.

***

He regretted treating her this way the moment she walked thought the door.

He was torn.

He was a king, he was supposed to be firm, unwavering and deliver objective justice by not being biased by personal likings and feelings.

But it was so damn hard.

He loved her, like no one before, with all his heart. Nik had already forgiven her for everything or at least desperately wanted to do so, but King Nikolai had duties, obligations and had to protect Ravka and put it first. He could not tolerate any symptom of not being loyal. Not under the current circumstances. 

But she was so broken…. So hurt and scarred. He was the reason tears showed in her eyes and that urge to just run after her, grab her, pull her close and kiss the pain away was overwhelming.

Nik would believe a single word of denial of those allegations coming from her mouth, but king Nikolai needed hard proof.

He had no idea what to do apart from running hands through his hair in despair.

As if that could help

***

“I don’t envy her. First she was used as a Darkling toy, now got into the black books of the prince”

 “She should have been more careful. Playing double with Lantsov and Kirigan couldn’t have ended well.”

“But still, in addition to those scars on the back she will have some mental damage. I pity her. Truly.”

“I don’t. She always had too big appetite and ambitions for her own good and…..”

“What are you talking about?” Nikolai peeked through the door, overhearing the guards chattering

“Moi tsar” they both saluted and bowed in respect

“What is this about?” he insisted, demanding explanation “Talk. Now.”

And that was how he learned the other side of the story.

And it left him heartbroken and full of unimaginable amount of guilt.

She was never going to forgive him for treating her this way, but he was ready to beg on his knees just to see even a glimpse of warm feelings from her.

***

While Nikolai was listening to the story and swimming in regret, Y/N was lying on her bed, back to the door, curled up, sobbing and shaking. It was just too much. It felt like she was accused of so many terrible things, since she was 15. First by Lantsovs, then by Kirigan, then by her fellow Grisha (give or take a few exceptions), and now by Nikolai. The last one hurt the most.

He should have believed her, not the gossip.

He should have listened.

He shouldn’t have ask her for explanation of the matter.

He broke her heart with the use of one little word.

Traitor.

How could he think she would ever betray him or his famliy. Even after everything the Lantsov did to her?

She got scars because she never lost hope he will return and put Ravka back together.

She was used, manipulated and laughed at, just because she saw more than anyone else.

And now….

Now he wouldn’t want to see her.

“Y/N…..”

“Genya?” Y/N propped herself on the elbow, meeting with the scarred face of her best friend. “What…. what happened to you?”

“nietchevo’ya……”she whispered looking down onto the floor, hiding her damaged face behind hair

“Oh, Genya!” the Inferni stood up and hugged the tailor, both of the girls started crying even more “I am so, so, so sorry. You did not deserve this. None of us ever deserved this.”

“I….” Genya stuttered “I should have taken your side. Back then….. But I chose to be silent and …..”

“Sh, sh….” Y/N caressed her hair “It’s in the past. We cannot dwell on that. We need to stick together now, that;s the only way….”

“Please, forgive me for everything …..”

“You did nothing wrong, my friend.” Y/n looked her straight into the eyes “you hear me? Nothing. We have to make hard choices sometimes and carry the results with us. But it doesn’t make us bad people. It does not make us monsters.” 

“Is that what you truly believe in?” a small, broken male voice came from behind and both girls turned around only to spot Nikolai, with disheveled hair and reddened face.

‘moi tsar” Genya try to bow, but Y/N stopped her from this

“not until the coronation.” He simply stated

“I will leave you two alone….”

“Y/N…”  Nik whispered taking a step forward trying to make her back away “I… I don’t even know how to begin expressing …..”

“Why are you here, Nik?” she fixed her gaze on the floor, not ready to look into his eyes

“I know everything now.”

“Which is?” now she raised head, single droplets falling down her cheeks “You know how I got the scars? Did they tell you how I was treated by everyone here? By Darkling? By your mother? By Apparat? Like no one.”

“I know….”

“Did your informer told you I created dozens of plans and strategies in case of any attack from Darling attack on your family and shared them with generals and they called me insane? Did they tell you I was a playtoy? Did you believe them only because you saw Genya damaged in similar way? Did they tell you…..” she broke and fell onto the ground, clutching her heart desperately. It was all coming back and she could not breathe, feeling the panic attack taking over her.    

“My love.” In a blink of an eye, Nikolai was next to her, embracing her, hoping she would not push him back. Luckily she clung to him tightly, searching for that safety and protection she always felt in his arms. He messed up. Really bad. And yet she wasn't figthing him. “Saints, I swear I never meant to cause you any harm.”

“I…. I…… I know….. I.... need to tell you the whole truth, you deserve it."

"You don't have to say a single word, darling."

"I want to..... I....." she took a sharp, shaking inhal ready to go on, but was stopped.

“No. Hush. I’m so sorry.” He kissed her head and pulled her closer “I can’t even tell you how, love. I was torn between being your Nikolai and the king everyone wants me to be. Guess I failed at both.”

 “No.” she shook her head and slightly moved away, but still staying in his arms “you… did not....”

“I did, my love, if it puts you in such state.”

“No.” she gulped “you, Nik, have the power to make Ravka a better place. To make everything better. I know it. And it comes with hard choices and  …..”

“And you should never be one of those. You are my priority and I;m sorry I was blinded.”

“Heavy is the head who wears the crown….” She quoted the poem they used to know and mock as children “guess we only understand the true meaning behind it now.”

“I love you….” he cupped her cheeks and wiped the tears away

“I love you too….”

“Can you forgive me?”

“As long as you promise to never doubt me in the future. And to talk to me if something bothers you. I will never cause you any harm.”

“Guess now you will have to.” He smirked “You’re gonna have to make us even.”

“Idiot.” She rolled her eyes “you are an idiot, moi tsarevich. Here, I just offended the head of the country. Is that enough for you?”

“That’s a start.” He smirked and captured her lips in his, slowly, gently, caressing her scared back at the same time. “I swear to you, everyone who ever hurt you will be punished. I will hit Kirigan with everything I have. And as for my mother.... mother of Ravka" he muttered "I should have known what my family was capable of. I am sorry, my love...."

"Just be better."

"I will do the best I can as long as you are by my side." she nodded" now, come on, we got job to do and I need you with me.”

“Ugh! After a kiss like that I was expecting a bit more of an apology..."

“I solemnly swear to continue once we are done. Is that worth waiting for?”

“Let’s hope you can live up to your promises, prince.”  

@bradleyroosterbradshawfr

@hauntedenthusiasttragedy

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of a minor injury and blood]

SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.

“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.

Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.

She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"

But the privateer is quick to silence her:

"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.

The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.

Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love? 

A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.

“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”

He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.

“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”

Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”

Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.

Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”

She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.

“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”

But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”

“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”

Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.

Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”

Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.

The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.

Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.

He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?

A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.

“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.

You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-

“Are you alright?”

Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.

“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”

“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.

“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”

He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.

Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”

“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”

Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes. 

Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.

You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.

“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”

“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”

“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”

Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.

“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”

“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”

To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.

“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.

He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?

But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”

“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.” 

Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-

“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”

Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.

“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”

“I’m holding you to that.”

His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

3 times, 3 words - Nikolai Lantsov

Masterlist

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Word count: 2076

Warnings: mentions of wounds, mentions of death(Vasily’s)

Summary: 3 times Nikolai wanted to tell you he loves you and 1 time where he do tell you.

Gentle waves crashed against the side of the Volkvolny. The sun was on its way up and the world bathed in a pale glow. It was an honest light, it showed nothing but the truth of the world, both the rough parts and the beautiful ones. Nikolai walked across the nearly empty deck. A few of his navigators were already up and going, the night's watch had gone to take a nap after the night’s work, one of his squallers stood ready at the main mast, you were helping Tamar let up the anchor.

You’d hastily thrown your hair up in a messy bun just to get it out of your face while doing some of the morning chores. Your clothes were impossibly clean and fell around your frame perfectly. Nikolai had asked you how you managed to keep your clothes so clean but you just shrugged and said that it was probably something you’d brought with you from your upbringing in the palace.

Tamar gave you a grin when you’d pulled up the anchor and she gave a nod to Nikolai, signaling that it was done and that you could begin today's journey. You pulled your hair loose from your bun and let it fall around your shoulders. Walking across the deck, you joined Nikolai who was standing on the quarterdeck. He reached out and put a strand of hair behind your ear. You looked beautiful in the early sun beams and Nikolai found himself watching you for longer than he probably should. A soft breeze came and pulled at your hair, getting it in your face again and Nikolai smirked at your defeated expression.

“Want me to braid it for you?” he asked and gestured to your hair. You chuckled and nodded, “sure.” You could do it by yourself and it would probably turn out way better than when he did it, but when he offered you could never turn him down. And truth be told, Nikolai liked to be able to braid your hair. Nikolai couldn’t braid someone’s hair to save his life and it looked like shit, but he adored you for letting him do it every time he offered. He never failed to notice how you kept the braid in for the whole of the day and then gently detangled it in the night when you headed to bed.

You’d sat down on the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck and Nikolai sat down behind you, starting to gently card his hands through your hair, tangling out the knots. Then he carefully divided your hair in three pieces and started to braid it gently. His fingertips brushed softly against your neck and his gentleness was stealing your breath away every time he braided your hair. He finished off the braid and tied it together with a ribbon. With gentle hands he placed the braid down your shoulder so you could see it and then he rested his hands on top of your shoulders, massaging them gently. You tipped your head backwards, smiling in a way that shined brighter than the sun and stole his breath away.

“Thanks,” you smiled and pressed a hasty kiss to his cheek before pushing yourself off of the stairs and walked down them to join Tolya and Tamar at the main mast. Nikolai just watched you walk away, taking in the way you moved across the deck. He saw Tamar teasing you for your hairstyle but you just laughed and turned your head towards him, giving him a smile he thought he might die to see again.

ꨄ

Your long gown almost made you trip when you ran. Nikolai’s birthday party had turned into a disaster and the nichevo’ya had stormed the palace. Nikolai had lost you in the crowd and he was too focused on getting his mother and father to safety to go back to look for you, despite how much his heart ached for him to just turn around and run to find you. You were pushed back and forth by the guests and you occasionally turned around to look for any familiar faces but the tumult was too much and the many colors of the gowns and the chaos made it hard to do anything else than to follow the stream of people pushing for the exits. You’d seen Nikolai’s white suit among the people but the guards had pushed him to the frontline, keeping him out of the way of the shadow monsters. They’d already gotten his brother.

Somewhere you thought you heard a shout of your name, but it was hard to tell. When you finally made it out of the palace, you gathered your skirts in your hands and set off towards the Kingfisher that laid in the lake. You caught sight of Nikolai in the front and you let yourself let out a sigh of relief. He was alive.

Nikolai climbed aboard the Kingfisher and began preparing for departure. He shouted orders and he gave himself a second to look back towards the hoard of people. If they were to fit all these people on the ship, they’d need a couple of squallers. It would be heavy cargo. Zoya came up on the other side of the railing and he took her wrist and helped her aboard. She quickly shook him off and took place in one of the corners under the big sail. Good he thought we need her winds.

The next person he noticed to climb aboard was you. Your elegant gown was torn in a few places and your hair had fallen out of its updo. You were out of breath from the run but you still heaved yourself over the edge before you let Nikolai whisk you into his embrace, pressing you into him and relishing the feeling of having you close. You’d made it out alive and you were there with him. He could have kissed you. You pulled away before he got the chance.

“I’ll help fly the ship,” you stated and walked away after he gave you a nod. Zoya gave you a nod as a greeting as you took place beside her and watched as Adrik and Nadia took the spots in the front and with a nod from Nikolai you all raised your arms and the Kingfisher took off towards the sky.

ꨄ

The walls of the spinning wheel were almost as grand as the ones in the palace. In the war room a fire burned in the hearth and Nikolai stood bent over the table, studying the maps and playing with the golden compass hanging around his neck. You stood in the doorway watching him with a gentle smile on your face. A twinkle of adoration in your eyes and a hot cup of tea in your hands.

“Knock knock,” you said gently and Nikolai looked up from his maps. His eyes set on your frame and a smile took over his features.

“I brought you some tea,” you held up the cup and his smile only widened. You stepped inside the room and Nikolai met you halfway, gently taking the cup from your hands and bringing it to his lips, sipping the hot liquid. A content sight went through his lips and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hair mumbling a thanks. You just smiled and walked past him, looking down at the maps on the table. It showed different routes, one to Zvedya, one to Keramzin and one to Kibirsk. All three of them, plus the Spinning wheel, connected with neath lines drawn on the maps.

“I’ll throw them in the fire if someone attacks us here,” Nikolai’s voice sounded from behind you. You chuckled at his statement and turned around, resting against the table and looking up at him, his hazel eyes shining.

“Good idea,” you laughed softly and lifted a hand to push away his blond curls from his eyes. The gesture was gentle and filled with adoration and it made Nikolai drown in the feeling of wanting to pull you close to him and kiss you until next dawn. He had to restrain himself from the idea and settled for placing a warm hand on your waist, keeping you in front of him. His hazel eyes found yours, looking for something. You didn’t know what but it looked like he was searching for something, not quite finding it. You pushed the thought away and opted for resting your head on his shoulder instead. He drank the last of his tea and then placed the cup down to be able to wrap his arms around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple and then he rested his head on yours, relishing in the peace and quiet and the calmness of the moment. Battle was knocking on your door so he intended to savor this moment for as long as it lasted.

ꨄ

You had gone with Alina, Mal, Zoya, Inej and Nina into the heart of the fold to destroy it. It had hurt you to leave the fort but you didn’t know where Nikolai was and Zoya demanded to not leave you alone in the fort now when the fold had swallowed it whole. So you’d hopped aboard the Hummingbird and followed your friends. Now the fight was over. The darkling was dead. Zoya had stayed to protect the body until you all could return to burn it. You’d flown the hummingbird back to the fort with the rest of your little crew.

When you rounded the corner of the fort and came out on the front side of it, you saw soldiers laying in the grass, the crates and barrels had been thrown around but it still looked pretty tidy. Tolya’s big frame caught your sight and you broke out into a sprint. The sound of your steps on the gravel made them all turn around and you caught sight of Nikolai. He was sitting on a crate, Tamar and Tolya with one hand each resting on his shoulders. He was bloody and bruised but he rose anyway, meeting you halfway and catching you when you threw yourself in his embrace. He hissed when you pressed on his wound in his shoulder but he didn’t care for the pain.

“Oh, Y/N,” he breathed out and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head. “Are you alright?” He wondered but didn’t dare to pull away from the hug to check for himself. You nodded, burying your face against his neck and pulling a hand through the hair in the nape of his neck.

“Saints, Nikolai, I’m so glad you’re alive,” you whispered, holding him even closer.

“Me too, darling. What would I do without you,” he mumbled and pressed yet another kiss to your head. Carefully he pulled away to meet your eyes and your e/c one’s flickered to the wound on the side of his head, then settling on his again.

“I wouldn’t have survived losing you,” he told you, voice soft and filled with love. You closed your eyes, taking in his words. His arms were still around your waist and yours rested around his neck. And it felt too right. It felt way too right.

“And I wouldn’t have survived losing you,” you told him in return, opening your eyes again. They sparkled in the sunlight and Nikolai’s breath got stuck in his throat at the sight. He let his eyes flicker down to your lips and back up again as he drew a deep breath.

“I won’t kiss you if you don’t want me to,” he said quietly so only you would hear. You didn’t answer. Instead you gently pressed your lips to his, careful not to hurt him. When the two of you pulled away, Nikolai let the words spill over his lips. He let them fall out in the air for you to hear, the words he’d been wanting to say for so long, so many times. But now the battle was over and he could finally say it along with the promise it held.

“I love you,” he breathed out, “I love you so much that I don’t know what I am without you.” You smiled at his words and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, watching as the action made his eyes flutter close at the short peck.

“And I love you. More than you could ever know.”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Through the Dark // Nikolai Lantsov

Request: you have nightmare that woke you up in middle of night, you walks to nikolai room, you knock the door, you hear unlock, as you look up to him, he half naked, nikolai tell you what wrong, he really want to comfort you *fluffiness* - anon

A/N: I’m such a sucker for nightmares and comforting, I just love it. I love it as much as I love the patching up trope and friends to lovers trope. Anyway! Thank you for the request, I hope you like!

Warnings: nightmares, fear, upset, hurt/comfort, fluff, pining, mutual pining.

Word count: 1.7k

There wasn’t much you could remember from the nightmare. An overwhelming sense of loneliness combined with the darkness pulled you from your slumber before much more could be imprinted onto your mind.

Sitting straight in bed, you cast your eyes around the dimly lit room. The fire was beginning to burn low; the multitude of candles dotted around the room flicker gently, only adding to the warm glow of the room.

As you remain in your bed, your breath starts to come faster and the walls start to feel as if they are closing in on you. Your pulse pounds in your ears; the urge to run growing. Pushing back the covers, you give yourself enough time to grab your robe before leaving your bedroom and the nightmare behind.

It wasn’t often you saw the palace at night. There was the occasional party where everyone was required to stay up far too late, drink far too much wine and indulge in far too much fun. Through those times, the palace comes to life – bright lights, laughter and music shine from every room creating an almost heady atmosphere as you would walk from room to room looking for Nikolai in and amongst the revellers.

Tonight, however, there was no party and the many rooms of the palace were silent and pitch black. You do not know how long you wander; the corridors bleeding into one as you turn left then right and then left again before ascending some stairs and finding yourself on a different level of the palace entirely.

Without you realising, you had landed on Nikolai’s corridor. At the sight of his closed door, you realise that there was no-one else in the entire palace who you would rather talk to, or see, than Nikolai. He could provide you with all the answers without talking; he could provide you with all the comfort with only a single smile.

It is cold on your short trip to Nikolai’s room. You worry your bottom lip with your teeth, silently hoping that the prince would be awake and willing to provide some much needed comfort. Tugging your robe tighter around yourself, you remain focused on your mission.

Taking a much needed deep breath, you knock on Nikolai’s door.

Counting the seconds in your head, it takes Nikolai five seconds to answer his door. He doesn’t hide his surprise at finding you at his door in the middle of the night. “(Y/N), love? What are you doing here at this time?”

Skin stretched taut across his stomach, you cannot help but ogle the skin left visible by his forest green robe. A satisfied smile crosses Nikolai’s lips as he watches your gaze crawl across his body. “Surely you haven’t knocked on my door, in the middle of the night I might add, to stare at me?”

You gasp, forcing your eyes back to his face. You feel your skin begin to heat from being caught. Caught out, the ability to speak leaves you. Unable to form words, you simply shake your head.

Now, Nikolai frowns. “Is everything okay?”

Again, you shake your head. Nikolai reaches for your hand and pulls you into his room.

This wasn’t the first time you had been in his room. Your friendship having spanned years at this point; you had been in the prince’s room plenty, but always in the day time. You had never ventured past the doors at night. It was no different to the day apart from the rumpled bed covers, but there felt to be a tension hanging over the room. One that had been there since Nikolai had pulled you through the double doors of his bedroom.

Nikolai leads you to the couch closest to the fireplace. “Your hands are like ice,” He complains, sitting down beside. “You need to warm them up.”

You turn your hands to the heat, feeling some of the stiffness leave your shoulders as the heat seeps through your fingertips and up your arms. Silence descends upon the room; the two of you watching the low flames of the fire, listening to the crackling of the dying logs.

At some point, Nikolai’s gaze turns to you. He doesn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes from an incomplete night of sleep; the frown that is set into your lips as whatever has upset you remains on your mind. A sharp burst of need rushes through Nikolai’s body; a need to protect you, a need to know about whatever has upset you and brought you to his door in the middle of the night. He wants to be the one to help you through the dark, to find the light in whatever this upset is.

“I’m here when you’re ready,” Nikolai reminds you gently, his hand squeezing your shoulder.

“I had a nightmare,” You explain, meeting the crystal blue gaze of the prince.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” He offers, wanting nothing more than to be a listening ear for you after all the times you had been there for him.

You shake your head. “That’s the thing,” You murmur, “I don’t remember the events of it. I just remember how alone I felt, and how that loneliness was crushing me to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I thought I would be fine when I woke up, but when I was sat in bed, it all came rushing back and I simply couldn’t stay in my room any longer.”

“So you came to me?” Nikolai states; his tone more of a question than a statement of fact. His heart rate quickens at the thought of you coming to him in your moment of need.

“My plan was to wander the palace for a little bit, to wear myself out with all the adrenaline in my body, but I found myself walking to your room, wanting to talk to you.”

Flattery and affection washes over Nikolai as he watches you play with your fingers – a nervous habit, one you had had since you were children, playing together in the palace and getting in trouble with the cook for stealing one too many iced buns. He watches the movement fondly. “I’m glad you came to me, love.”

The term of endearment startles you but you don’t let it show on your face. Instead, you revel in the joy of how right it feels to be called his love. “I don’t think I can face going back to my room just yet,” You confess, staring at Nikolai’s bedroom doors, wondering how long it would before the first of the servants were to wake.

“What will you do?”

You shrug. “Walk around the palace until it’s light enough for me to face my room.”

Nikolai frowns, not liking that idea in the slightest. “Do you want to stay with me?” Nikolai asks after a moment. The words are sincere though he blushes when the question hangs in the air, waiting to be answered.

Your eyes widen as you meet his stare. “With you? In your room?”

“Where else?”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t certain, love,” Nikolai murmurs; the term of endearment slipping out naturally now.

You think over his offer. If your nightmare was to return, you wouldn’t be alone in the aftermath, plus a nice warm bed feels like a better deal than a cold palace and a dark room.

“Alright,” You accept. “I’ll stay with you.”

Nikolai smiles; standing from the couch and offering you his hand. He removes his robe; leaving him bare save for the pair of pyjama pants. He slides into the bed effortlessly, shifting onto his side as he waits for you to join him. After a moment’s hesitation, you take off your robe, letting it drop to the floor before sliding into his bed beside him.

“That wasn’t so scary, was it?” Nikolai teases.

A short laugh leaves you. “No, you aren’t scary in the slightest.”

“Good,” Nikolai sighs before turning sincere. “I wouldn’t want you to ever be scared of me. Do you still feel lonely?”

The question hangs in the air as you debate your answer. On the one hand, you could reply with a simple ‘no’ and be done with it. On the other hand, you could go one step further for you could never be lonely, or feel alone, when you were with Nikolai. He brought out a side to you that you not only admired, but you liked. He could make you smile on your darkest days, and he could make you feel as if you were worth all the gold in all the world. At some point along this lengthy friendship, it started to turn into something more for you and it was that quiet love for the prince that had you answering.

“I could never feel lonely with you,” You say quietly, choosing honesty to be your best policy. “I think that’s why I came to you tonight. On some level, I knew that as long as I have you, I could never be alone or lonely.”

Nikolai throws caution to the wind. He moves towards you, reaching for you. You go into his embrace willingly; his arms anchoring you in place as you tuck yourself into his side.

“This is new,” You comment lightly, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne and committing to memory how his skin feels pressed against yours.

“Does it bother you?” Nikolai asks quietly; a touch of vulnerability in his voice as he prepares to move away, leaving you to your own space.

You shake your head. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all.” You take a deep breath before continuing, “In fact, I could get used to it.”

Admission out in the open, you hold your breath, waiting for Nikolai’s response.

His arms hold you tighter. “I could get used to this too. Having you in my bed, holding you in my arms… I might have to thank your nightmare for bringing you to me.”

Turning your face towards him, you press a kiss to the corner of Nikolai’s mouth, not missing the hitch in his throat when your lips touch his skin. “I’ll thank it for you,” You whisper, “So long as I get to stay in your bed.”

“Always,” Nikolai murmurs, closing his eyes, silently thanking the nightmare that brought you through the dark to him.

******************

Shadow and Bone Taglist: @cpetrova @cameronsails @chaotic-fae-queen @pinkcloxds @writingmysanity @netflix-imagines

**Taglist is open if you would like to be added!

[ellewritesalright]

The Panther and the Hound

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: Hello folks! This is a request from an anon that has been sitting in my drafts for many months now so I hope y'all enjoy!!

Request: nikolai lantsov x yul bataar!reader, black cat reader and golden retreiver nikolai.

Synopsis: Needing help on a mission at sea, Nikolai recruits a captain feared by slavers and military ships alike. The Panther, as her enemies call her, or, as Tolya and Tamar call her, their sister.

Warnings: Mentions of heists, fighting, and violence, but mostly fluff and pining I'd say.

Word count: 2450

..........

Tamar and Tolya stood at the bow of the Volkvolny. There was no containing their grins as they watched a ship with black sails sit docked in Ketterdam's Fifth Harbour. The Prowler was a fine ship, with a hardy crew and a fearsome captain, a captain that just so happened to be their sister.

The Volkvolny sailed nearer and nearer to the harbour, and when it docked the twins were the first off the ramp. Nikolai could barely keep up with them as they approached the Prowler. He wasn't sure why they were so excited. Sure, they hadn't seen their sister in a year and a bit, but he couldn't fathom actually wanting to see a sibling; he wouldn't mind only having to see his own brother every five years or so, let alone just over a year. Yet, Tamar and Tolya were practically giddy when they'd convinced Nikolai to partner with the fearsome Panther for a job. 

You were supposedly the greatest captain on the True Sea. You were credited with a long list of ships you'd sent to the depths, and an even longer list of slavers you'd cut down with a slice of your sword or a twist of your corporalki wrist.

He wasn't sure how much of your reputation was built on embellishment, but once he saw you giving command from the top deck of your ship, he could see what some of the fuss was about. You stood straight-backed and proud. You donned a cutlass and a black pistol at your hips. Your eyes had such a sharp glint to them, he wondered if you ever even had to make use of your sword; surely your looks could kill.

But as you saw Tamar and Tolya at the top of the ramp, the tough exterior melted and you grinned like the sun.

“Look what the tide washed up, huh?” You said, voice clear as molten sugar.

Nikolai stood aside as he watched the reunion of siblings. Tolya scooped you up in his arms first, and then Tamar squeezed you enough to make you let out a breathless laugh.

“I think you’ve grown, little sister,” Tolya grinned as he rested his forearm on your head. “You’re a taller armrest now.”

“Very funny,” you said drolly, though you maintained a smile. Tolya dropped his arm.

“I think it’s just her boots. Are they new?” Tamar said as she observed your footwear.

“Knicked them off a ‘leather merchant’ bound for Ketterdam who was hiding two dozen Kaelish women in his cabins.”

“Did you sink his ship?”

“Does a spear pierce best when sharp?”

A comfortable silence settled between you three siblings.

Your eyes met Nikolai’s and your smile curved into a slight smirk as you eyed his teal coat. 

“Who’s the peacock?” you asked Tamar and Tolya.

Before the twins could answer, Nikolai stepped forward and held his hand out to you. “Sturmhond.” You shook, then he glanced up at the black sails. “You have a lovely ship.”

“Lovely? Never heard it described that way, Sturmhond,” you said, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Nikolai shrugged slightly. “The craft of the mast and the hull are beautiful. Did you have a hand in the design?”

“Not at all. I commandeered it from its old captain.”

“Commandeered it?” Tolya let out a soft chuckle. 

“Mutinied it from your old captain, you mean,” Tamar piped up, a sly edge to her voice.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Tam,” you lightly glared at her.

“It is generally frowned upon to mutiny against your captain.” Tamar tilted her head. “But in your circumstances, I think you were justified.”

Tolya looked at Nikolai, ready to let him in on this conversation. “Our baby sister here held a mutiny against the old captain after he sank a ship full of Fjerdan refugees fleeing for Novyi Zem.”

Your face hardened. “There were children onboard. Families. I felt thirty frightened heartbeats, all of them put out after he brought the cannons around on their ship.”

“Why?” Nikolai had to ask.

“Because that Ravkan bastard was a nationalist zealot who would rather see innocent people dead than allow a Fjerdan flag to sail,” you replied, tone still hard. “So, I organized a mutiny that night, took his ship, then I dumped him on some frozen rock of an island up in the Bone Road.”

Nikolai nodded as he listened to this. He couldn’t help but admire your actions against your old captain.

“But enough of this prattle,” you said, clapping your hands together. “We have a job to do, don’t we?”

……….

You sailed out the next day. After a strategic meeting with your sister, brother and their interesting captain, the Prowler hit the open waters.

It was your ship that this Sturmhond needed most. While his Volkvolny was well equipped, yours was faster. It amused you that your ship was faster; as they sailed side by side, his Hound of the Waves couldn’t keep up with your Panther, as your crew affectionately called her. But Sturmhond needed that speed for this mission of his. 

In your meeting the night before, he said there was something he needed to steal off the coast of West Ravka and charter to Novyi Zem in one week. You’d replied that you only needed four days of sailing to get all the way across the True Sea.

Soon enough, you were docked in West Ravka. You treated with Sturmhond on his ship this time. Your brother and sister had sailed with you for the short journey, though they seemed eager for you to see the Volkvolny. As they toured you around the ship, a bunch of tables were set out.

“Sturmhond likes for the crew to dine together before a big mission,” Tamar explained.

“From the smell of it, it’s the chef’s best turnip stew,” Tolya grinned.

Dinner was set out on the main deck of Sturmhond’s ship. Tamar and Tolya sat with some of the crew, and you went to pull up a chair from a nearby table. As you took hold of the wooden arm, someone at the table said your name.

“Have a seat, captain,” Sturmhond smiled up at you.

You raised a brow at him, ready for him to buckle under the intensity of your eyes. He didn’t. You decided to pull out the chair and sit beside him.

“I’m surprised I didn’t see you there at first, especially considering that garish coat of yours,” you said cooly.

“Not all of us can pull off black leather,” he replied, raising his cup slightly to you.

“And you think you’re pulling off that teal?”

“Am I not? It’s a shame that I’ve only heard this now, considering I’ve worn this coat for years now. It’s sad to think none of my crew have had the heart to tell me it doesn’t suit me,” he remarked, still smiling confidently.

“It’s a bold colour. Must attract a lot of attention when you wear it on the street,” you said as you took a sip from your cup. “I hope you’re clever enough not to wear it on our job tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your concern, but some say I’m very clever, you know,” he grinned.

“Is that so?”

He nodded, still smiling. You’d yet to see him without a smile on his face, whether it was friendly, polite, sly, confident, or clever.

One of the crew brought around a tray of food and set it out at your table. You both began to fill your plates.

“So,” Sturmhond began again once you started eating, “what got you onto the sea?”

“I followed my brother and sister out here,” You replied. “We split when I was sixteen. We docked in a Ravkan port near the border to Shu Han, and I crewed up away from them.”

“Why?”

“I needed the chance to grow. They’d protected me for all of my life, and I felt like I needed the space to be my own person.”

“So you left.”

You nodded. “When did you leave home, captain?”

“When I was fifteen.”

“So you know what it’s like.”

He nodded as well, his smile softening. “It’s tough at first.”

“Until you find sailors you can trust, it’s lonely.”

“Your siblings were that for me. Trusted them as soon as I met them.”

“I don’t know why, considering they’ve never ever looked friendly.”

Sturmhond chuckled. “Regardless, I am glad I did.”

“I’m glad you did too,” you raised your glass slightly to him. “Having met you now, I’m not sure what all the fuss is about, but my siblings greatly admire you.”

Sturmhond seemed about to take offence, then he noticed the sly spark in your eye. “You’re tricky.”

“Am I?” you smirked at him.

He merely smiled and brought his cup to his lips again, watching you over the brim.

……….

“Ah, here he is: Captain Surplus.” Nikolai heard you tease as he stepped onto the Prowler the night of the mission. You stood at the railing of the upper deck, your telescope in hand. 

In order not to draw too much attention, only a skeleton crew went ashore to carry the package to the docks. Sturmhond, deemed non-essential by the twins, had relented to staying behind. So, he decided to wait with you aboard your ship so that he could sail with you once the package was acquired. Tolya and Tamar would captain the Volkvolny across the True Sea at a slightly slower pace in order to throw off any authorities that might be chasing the package.

“Very funny,” Nikolai said with a smile and scrunch of his nose at you.

“Thank you.” You handed him your telescope. “I spy something orange.”

“I spy?” He raised a brow at you.

“Yes. Have you never played?”

“Not since I was a child.”

He raised the telescope to his eye and peered beyond the long docks to the Ravkan port town. His vision dragged along the different colours, waiting for something orange to appear.

“Is it that sweet shop?”

“Nope.”

He looked again. “That market stall?”

“Which one?”

“There’s only one orange one: the fruit vendor.”

“Hmm… no.”

He gave you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, unimpressed by your smirk.

“Given up, Captain Surplus?” 

“Never,” he grinned. “Is it… that bush with those pointy-looking flowers?”

“Those flowers are pink.”

“They’re orange.”

“They’re very much pink.”

“Fine. They’re salmon then.”

“Salmons aren’t orange, they’re pink.”

“You’re splitting hairs.”

“By not being delusional?”

His eyes narrowed on a crate with a bright orange tiger painted on the side of it. “Is it that crate?”

“Which crate?”

“Saints, woman, what other crate?” He grumbled softly. He pointed it out. “That one. The one with the tiger.”

You grabbed his wrist, raising it so the telescope was level to your eye. Nikolai pretended to be casual as you held onto him.

“That crate?” your lips frowned a bit as you stared through the lenses.

“Yes, that one. Is that the orange thing? The tiger?”

You lowered his arm and gave him a look, almost to say he was wrong. Then a smile cracked on your lips. “Yes, that’s the orange thing,” you said sweetly.

“You’re incorrigible.” 

“I know.”

He stared at you for a second too long, drawing your attention away from the harbour. He couldn't bring himself to play coy and look away once you looked back.

"Are you always smiling, or is your mouth just like that?" You asked him, eyes trailing along his face.

Nikolai laughed. "Which answer would you prefer?"

"The honest one."

"A smart choice," he said, still grinning. "The former."

"Really? Because I can recognize Tolya's handiwork from a mile away," you replied with a challenge in your eyes.

Nikolai held back his surprise at the shift in conversation. Still, he enjoyed the suspicious smirk you gave him.

"He's only tailored my eyes, hair, and nose," he replied. "Everything else is all me."

"I find that hard to believe," you said with an almost haughty tone as you turned back towards the harbour. "Lips as nice as those are hard to come by."

He blinked to catch up. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't be… could you? "Wait, what?"

But before you could answer, your Second called you over, and you stepped away from him. 

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, captain," you smirked as you left him there to wonder.

..........

That night, as the Prowler was sailing towards Novyi Zem, there was a knock on your cabin door. You'd been forging some documents and you called out for the visitor to enter. You'd expected your Second, but when you glanced up, it was Sturmhond approaching your desk with his hands clasped behind his back. There was something almost militaristic about the way he often stood.

"Shouldn't you be asleep in the cabin I so graciously provided for you?" You asked, raising a brow at him.

"It's barely midnight. All my best ideas come to me after midnight."

"Is that so?" You leaned back in your chair. "Let's hear one of these ideas, then."

"There's my idea for a flying ship using Squaller crew members," he mused, smiling softly at you. "Then my glamorous idea about a device that recycles waste from the crew on the Volkvolny." He stepped a bit closer to your desk. "And of course there's my brilliant idea to come to your cabin tonight and confess that I'm mad about you."

You nearly dropped your pen. You looked up at Sturmhond, your eyes tracing his features, trying to detect his motives. The frightening thing was that he seemed to be telling the truth. There was a hint of worry in his brow the longer you went without responding to him. 

"So are you going to do it?" You asked. 

A small wrinkle formed on his forehead. "Do what?"

"Confess your feelings for me?" You said in a small voice, a hint of hope underlining your words.

He smiled widely at you, his pretty grin once again lighting up his face. "I'm crazy for you. You're clever and kind and yet ruthless in the best of ways."

"I'm ruthless?"

"Beautifully so." He nodded.

You stood, walking around your desk to face him properly. "And you like that?"

"More than you could know," he said, still grinning at you.

"Then perhaps you should do something about it," you said to him, your eyes glancing at his perfect lips.

His grin widened as he dipped his head lower. He smelled like leather and vanilla. "Perhaps I should."

Then his perfect lips were on yours, and you were smiling into his kiss.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment--I really appreciate the feedback! Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm @poseidont @hashcakes

[appleandsnow]

Beauty

He's busy with his compass and maps; charting the stars and the ship's directions.

You're standing a little distance away, observing him and pondering a back hug but scared to disturb him.

"Gonna stand there all night?"

"You are quite a vision" you flirt back

You walk up to him and wrap him up in a back hug; kissing his shoulder before you lay your head on it.

"I seem to be caught" he jokes

"Couldn't let such beauty get away. Captain's orders"

He laughs. It's boisterous.

[milayawr]

Sea of Hearts

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: As you enjoy the rain, someone enjoys your happiness.

Word count: 1,695

Warnings: None

Notes: This was a little different in my head, but still, I like it. The story isn't deeply written. I just found the scene cute in my head. Hope you like it!

Also, this is basicly a Sturmhond x Reader, but it doesnt really matter. It's short anyways.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Sturmhond was a mysterious man.

That was how you could define him. Of course, he had other definitions besides mysterious. Like handsome, intelligent, talented, adventurous... He was the hound of seas.

You've been on his ship for more than one year. You've watched his every move. It was your job, to watch him and if something goes wrong you go help him. As a tidemaker, you were there when he asked for your help to control the ship against the feral waves that had the power to crush every ship that sails on water.

Sometimes, on stormy days he sought your help. You loved being helpful, because you thought you didn't deserve the money you got from him. Wishing for air to be stormy was the cruelest thing to do but sometimes that was all you did.

When he found out about it he didn't get mad. You expected him to, but he didn't. Your act was childish and he actually laughed when you told him that you wished for the day to get worse. You wanted to be worthy of the money and he understood your worries.

He was the best.

He was funny and careful. Even in your saddest days, he made you laugh until your stomach hurt. At the times you catch a cold he calls his most trusted healer to treat you.

Not only you, though. Obviously. He cares for everyone on the ship. His ship is his little kingdom and he cares for it more than anything in the earth and sea.

You blinked as something fell on your head. You slightly jump where you stand. As you looked up at the sky you felt more raindrops fall on your head. You smiled into the air. You loved the rain.

The rain made you feel alive. The raindrops that fell upon you touched your skin as if they were parts of you that had drifted away. It hadn't been raining for a long time and deep inside you knew that it was a reunion.

You slowly spun around yourself and spread your arms around as you giggled playfully. By using your small science you made the little drops stay on your skin. They were like armor to you, ready to protect you at all costs. They indeed made you alive. Kept you alive.

Behind you, you heard a familiar laugh. As you turned your back you already knew who you were gonna meet. Your crew captain. With his auburn hair and green eyes, charming face, and burning gaze he looked like a living saint.

He was leaning on the railing. His arms were tied to his well-built chest. As the rain got faster his shirt got wet. Unlike him, you were as dry as the ones that were sleeping inside of their cabin. The water drops were touching your skin but they didn't stick to you. You never knew why but it always happened when it rained. It touched you, made a connection with you but never stayed with you. As if the water drops didn't want you to get cold or something like that.

"Hello, Kapitan." You smiled widely as you got closer to him.

"Hello, Y/N. Having fun?" He asked with a mischivious grin.

"Always." You answered. "Wanna join me, Kapitan?"

He shook his head and your smile slightly faded. You normally wouldn't care if someone didn't want to join you but a part of you knew that it was different with him. It had always been different with him. You never knew why.

"I'd rather watch, but thanks." He winked an eye. You were quite sure that you saw a reassured impression on his face when your face lightened up with a bigger smile than before. "I want to know why my favourite tidemaker is awake while everyone else sleeping and having their ten thousandth dream?"

You blushed without a reason. "Well, I couldn't reach sleep so I came here to watch the sea." You turned to look at the endless sea. It was dark but the moonlight made it clear for your eyesight. "When I was younger I was afraid of the sea at night."

"I thought you grew up in a coastal village before you went to the Little Palace."

He remembered. As always, he remembered every little piece of you. You told him once about your childhood because you weren't fond of talking about it. You both were drunk and you rambled something to him. But he remembered.

This little thing made your heart go wild.

"That is right." You mumbled. It was so quiet that he even could hear your heartbeat. "But my brother... He told me a story about the sea creatures that lurk at night. I didn't care about the story and the day after that night I went to the shore with my friend. We got scared of the little stones the second we entered the sea and ran away." You laughed as you told him the story of your early life. When you looked at him, you found him staring at you with those eyes. "Sorry, for the rambling."

"No, not at all." He told you. "I love your little stories. Imagining little Y/N running away from so-called creatures was quite fun." His laugh made you blush even more. "But I didn't know you had a brother."

You cleared your throat before you spoke, trying to control your voice. "A month before they took me he... He died from fever." You felt the raindrops hit your head again. This time they were making you wet. To hide the hot tears that threatened your eyes. "My mother lost two children in the same year. Month even. It must have been hard for her."

Your face was wet with rain but all the rain did was hide the tears from the eyes that looked. But it was impossible for anything to hide it from him. He stretched out his hand and wiped your face. His touch had the remnants of tendency and softness.

"It must have been hard for you."

His hand felt right on your cheek. It was like it belonged there. You felt light as a feather. Your worries left your soul with only his soft touch.

"It was." You wiped the tears that stained your face. "But it stayed in the past. I am here with you, I have a new life. I have power that I've improved over the years. I can protect myself and I... can find love, someday."

"I love the way you think. Very optimistic you are..." His eyes fell down to your lips and then immediately climbed up to your eyes. Or you thought so. "I am surprised to know that you haven't found love." His fingers pushed some of your unruly hair behind your ear. "A powerful, magical girl like you should be worshiped."

His words were a new weight on your heart. It shuttered, but didn't break. You knew your heart was so vulnerable that it couldn't handle a little romantic phrase.

A smile made its way on his lips when he saw your lips parted, cheeks red and eyes shiny as moonlight. "My pretty, selfless little tidemaker..." he whispered. His face was closer to yours. His hand on your cheek made its way into your hair and his always soft touch remained there like it found a treasure there. "May I kiss you, Y/N?" The question left his lips like a plea.

You nodded, your mind was under his charm. "Yes." You answered.

After your very brief answer, he kissed you very tenderly. As if testing the waters he parted your lips, but didn't move a bit away from you. Your noses that touched each other were red. The rain still affecting the both of you. You felt like every drop was to make sure that you weren't burning with the flames of intimacy between you and Sturmhond.

This time you connected your lips. His other hand went to your back and rested there. His hand in your hair was... afraid to touch. He was acting like he was gonna break you if he touched you. You wanted to tell him with your kisses that you were fine.

You were not a glass after all.

When you shyly let your tongue enter his mouth to wander, he pulled off of you. His hand on your back tightened as he looked at you.

"Did I— Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry—"

"No, no, never. You never do wrong, my love." He stroked your hair as he looked at you in the eyes. "I don't think I can hold back."

"Then don't." You said. Sudden courage filling your whole body. "I don't want you to..." You didn't know his real name.

He knew the reason for your sudden stop. He moved his mouth closer to your ear. "Nikolai." He whispered as if he told you a secret.

"What?"

"It's Nikolai."

Nikolai. A beautiful name for a beautiful man.

"I don't want you to hold back, Nikolai." You didn't question anything as you kept your word. "I want to know."

You didn't know your heart, his heart, the feelings... You didn't know love at all. You wanted to know about everything that included your heart and feelings. You knew he was the one to guide you to your own heart.

You wanted to be familiar with yourself.

"I want you to show me."

There was a soft smile on his lips as he leaned down again to catch your lips. He was going to show you the doors of your heart. He was going to show you the way of love.

He was mysterious, handsome, intelligente and talented. He was the key of your love.

You were sailing on the sea of hearts with him as the rain continued. Still, trying to save you both from the invisible flames that surrounded you.

It was the night you forgot about the stories of the lurking creatures and loved the sea more at night.

This was the strory of how you found your love.

[syllvane]

beginnings pt 2- nikolai lantsov x reader

You don’t get the luxury of figuring out that it’s an ambush until after you’ve been clocked in the head with a rifle, too focused on scope of your rifle to hear the footsteps coming up behind you.

When you wake up, it’s to the impact of your body being dropped out far in the harbor, too far out for anyone from the shore to hear you scream and cinderblocks tied to your legs to drown you.

“Kaz!” You screamed, your voice hoarse. “Jes!”

No response, no sound other than your own struggling in the water. 

A tide pulled you under and submerged you, pulling you further away from the shore, the city of Ketterdam becoming mere lights in the distance.

You swam up desperately, panting from the effort and lack of air.

You couldn’t survive like this for much longer.

You submerged yourself again and only as you instantly descended 10 feet as you gave up resistance did you realize that you had signed your death warrant.

There was no more going up for air.

And so, you sink.

No mourners, no funerals.

When you wake up, it feels like a horse has kicked you in the chest and your throat burns when you breathe.

You open your eyes to see three sets of unfamiliar faces looking at you and so, you use all of the little energy you have to fight, knocking the person on the left off-balance, though you’d attribute that more to surprise than the actual skill demonstrated in the swipe.

You manage to stand up- not without feeling nauseous, but at least you’re standing - as you move to engage with the other two.

“I had a feeling you would wake up and immediately start throwing punches.” A familiar voice said and your head whipped to the front of the ship to see none other than Sturmhond at the helm.

Of course.

“How did you-”

“You can thank the twins and Toma, our tidemaker. They’re the ones who sensed you out there and brought you in.”

You looked at the two people standing directly in front of you, who you now had the perception to see that they were clearly related.

You opened your mouth to speak and when no words came, you simply gave them a deep nod.

The woman returned it and the man, taller than her, gave you a smile.

“I’m not going to stop you from thanking me though as well.” Sturmhond said and you shot a glare at him.

“And what should I thank you for? Did you lift my body out of the water with your own two hands?” You asked and he shook his head, shrugging.

“I mean, you are on my boat, and I wasn’t planning on charging you for saving your life or passage. Perks of me liking you.”

You ignored the last part of that statement, ignored how warm your cheeks felt and how your heart sped up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the woman stifle a smile.

“I need to go back to Ketterdam.”

“We’re already a day away from Ketterdam, and we’re on a tight schedule to find the Sea Whip. I’m sorry.” Sturmhond said and you shook your head, looking around for any sign that he was joking or lying.

You felt a strong hand on your shoulder and you looked to your side to see the woman.

“He’s not lying, I’m sorry.”

tags: @a-disturbing-self-reflection

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Compass Of Pirates - Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: Nikolai is given a compass that he was told would solve all his problems, and yet he cannot figure out why it doesn't seem to work. Yes, I am merging with Pirates Of The Caribbean because I fucking can.

Content Warnings: No Beta/Proof Reading.

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

The brass points across the centre of the compass are centred by a sundial, which as far as Sturmhond can tell is the most functional part of the compass. He holds the compass in the clutch of his palm, staring at the red arrow as it gently swings between two points, neither of which are north. He had picked it up from someone in one of the markets in the last port they docked in. It was this rocky, mountainous island, just off the northern coast of the mainland. The name of the port escapes the captains mind, but it was some fishing port with a name not unlike a weapon of some kind. But that isn't really important, what is important is the illusion of help this compass had been acquired under. "It will bring you to what you most desire," they had said, "the compass never leads you wrong." He had been dubious but nevertheless he has hope he isn't sure he has a right to, and yet he was finding the outcome very disappointing.

"This thing doesn't even point north," Sturmhond says, staring again at the compass in his hand. Mal shrugs, offering out his open hand.

"May I?" he asks. He hands it over, without pause and the dial spins to quickly into a new direction the moment it touches Mal's palm. Mal watches the dial and follows it's direction. He knows exactly what the privateer has observed, that this compass does not point north, but instead it is now pointing at Alina, who is leaning over the edge of the ship, staring at the way the waves are breaking onto the boats side, creating the white foam of sea spray and she is smiling like she has never seen the ocean before. "Oh, Sturmhond," Mal says, "it points north alright," he chuckles, "true north."

The Captain frowns. "True north?" he questions, staring the tracker down. "What kind of navigational system are you working on Oretsev?"

"The only one that hasn't ever lead me wrong," he hands the compass back to Sturmhond and the moment it enters his hand it changes direction back to where it had been previously pointing. Mal taps the fabric of his shirt, directly over his heart. "I told Alina about true north once, she asked me what scared me most, and I told her I get the most scared when I am lost, but I don't really get lost. Yet, getting lost happens even if you know where you are sometimes. So I told her about cardinal north and true north."

"Cardinal north is a direction on a map," Sturmhond says. Mal nods, not letting his eyes leave the Sun Summoner. "So, as for true north?"

"True north is home," Mal says, sounding more like a poet than a tracker, "it is where you feel safe and loved."

"Miss Starkov is your truth north," Sturmhond says with a nod. Mal doesn't even need to respond to that. "So you think this compass points to what exactly?"

"Whatever you most desire, that's what the translation says on the side isn't it?" Mal says, finally looking at him. "You did see that, didn't you? Since you're always six steps ahead of everything, and ever so flawless Captain?"

He is too eager to test the theory to even care about Mal's teasing of him. He just thanks him absentmindedly and follows the compass forward. "Don't walk off the edge of the ship," Mal calls after him, "or do..."

He spends a good while walking the length of the decking, trying to figure out why the dial spins into a change of direction, seemingly without link. "Maybe you don't know what you want," Mal teases, observing him.

"Doesn't this interest you?" Sturmhond asks, running a hand through his tousled hair.

Mal shrugs. "What use is a compass what would be pointing right beside me all of the time?" he asks. "Besides my heart always brings me back to her."

"You're good with your words when it suits you, aren't you?" Tamar asks, coming to stand beside Mal, bored of her card game and far more interested in whatever it is that has gotten the Captain all pacing and flustered. "Still staring at the broken compass?"

"It's not broken," Mal says, "it's just not helpful."

"A compass's only purpose is to point north, and it doesn't, so it's broken," Tamar argues.

"It's a heart compass, not a compass," Mal says. The Heartrender laughs.

"Those are legend," she says, taking some walnuts from her pocket to snack on. She offers him one and he shakes his head to dismiss the offer.

"Wasn't the Stag legend too?" Mal retorts. Tamar gives him a shrug.

"That means nothing of all legend," is her response, but she keeps watching Sturmhond.

"It doesn't even make sense," he says finally holding the compass up and above his head to see how the dial moves. "It's not pointing to anything, I thought it might've been pointing to Ravka but I was wrong."

"You're suggesting your truest love is a country?" Mal asks, "what kind of excessive patriotism is that?"

"You're not patriotic?" Tamar asks, her tone littered with laughter.

"No," he admits, not feeling pulled down by the admission, "I came here for Alina. She's my flag, my nation, she is the one thing I remain loyal to."

Tamar's question was to sway Mal from paying too much attention to the captains words, but he doesn't throw her a look of gratitude, instead he returns to his fixation on the compass, as it spins to point towards the ships bow. Some of the crew start to appear on deck, changing placement as the time passes, and Tolya walks beside you, as you tell him something out of their earshot.

He takes his eyes off the compass, staring directly at you, forgetting what his original intentions had been, he offers you a smile and you grin back, all teeth and cheer. Even after the days at sea nothing seemed to sway your mood.

Tamar elbows Mal in the side and before her can take issue with it, she nods his attention to Sturmhond, who has lost interest in the compass altogether in your presence.

"Got it working yet?" you ask, coming closer to the three of them Tolya by your side.

"Think it might be a lost cause," the privateer admits, holding the compass down and to his side, as if to hide it's direction from those around you.

"Come on, Captain, plenty have said that about broken things, but often you just need time or the right pair of hands," you say, "show me?"

He hesitates and Mal and Tamar share a look, a look that spreads into matching grins. "Oh, he is not as smart as he gives himself credit for," Mal says in hushed words.

"Most of the time he is, but any heart can get blind sighted, and when the heart is blind, the mind can fog," Tamar says, voice equally low.

You look at him and he is smiling at you like you're a sunrise, like he is seeing you for the first time, and you wonder how he always manages to look at you like this. Look at you in a way that makes your head spin and your stomach twist. You know Sturmhond, and you know the man can flirt like second nature, that no one you've yet to meet have been susceptible to his charms, so you try not to let go to your head. But that's not easy when he looks at you like he has just discovered what love is for the very first time.

He holds out the compass out and you look at it, not reaching to take it from his hands, you move around to his perspective for the dial to swing back in your direction. You lean around him, to get a better look and then stare out at the ocean. But he just watches you, not as much are daring to confirm what he suspects by glancing to the compass.

You move back in front of him, and the dial points to you, and you turn your head to look at the big blue expanse behind. "Compass doesn't know north that's for sure," you say, giving him a wild smile and a shrug. "But I guess it's no better than most of us in that."

"It doesn't know north," he agrees, shoving the compass back in his pocket, "but it seems to know things I should have before now."

"Hmm?" you ask, turning back to him from the waves.

"Nothing, now, tell me, what was so funny?"

[corpsebasil]

I Will Tell You Who You Are

When Nikolai is infected with Merzost, the only one who can comfort him is his queen.

You were sprinting down the hall.

You could hear him, screaming, screaming your name as you made your way to his rooms. The guard outside merely stepped in your path, a troubled look on his face. You couldn’t catch your breath; you felt like you’d vomit as you heard Nikolai’s scream of pain, his voice catching on a sob.

“Open the door.” You gasped, feeling desperate. “Open the fucking door.”

“I—I cannot, Your Majesty. The King has requested no one—”

“I am his wife. If I wish to enter I will.” Nikolai’s sob split the air around you and you almost threw the guard to the floor. “Move or so help me God, I’ll kill you myself.”

The guard’s throat bobbed.

Your husband was barely around anymore. You’d been traumatized at the coronation and were desperate for his attention. And yes, while he saw you in the day, he didn’t feel fully with you anymore. He hadn’t shared a bed in almost a month, and you couldn’t take it.

That’s when you’d heard his scream.

“Move.” You commanded, voice shaking, and the guard slowly stepped to the side.

You almost ripped the handle as you shoved the door open, a shriek leaving your lips at the sight in front of you. Nikolai was chained—chained—to his bed, black tendrils of dark power wrapping around him. He was trembling, sweat beading on his brow as the power seemed to dull.

“Y/N,” he was shaking. Shaking. “you can’t be here.”

“What is happening to you?” Your voice broke as you moved forward, trying to ignore his flinch at your approach.

“It’s in—inside me.” He panted, shaking his head. “Don’t come near me, Y/N. Please. It’s fighting—” he bent double, back bowing towards his knees as a cry of pain left him, every muscle tensing. Nikolai sobbed, gritting his teeth, and you saw that the clenched fingers of his hands were tinged with black.

“My love what—”

“Go!” He shouted, yanking at his own chains as he panted through clenched teeth. “Go, Y/N, I never wanted you to see—”

“Nik.” You choked on a gasp of pain and dropped to your knees in front of him, grabbing his face. He shook his head wildly, eyes wet and squeezed shut as he fought your grip. “Nikolai it’s me. It’s me.”

“No, no, no.” He shook, still attempting to scramble away as you held him fast. “Don’t touch me. You have to leave.”

“I love you, Nik. Please, please let me help you.”

“I’m insane.” He sobbed, the black slowly vanishing as he collapsed roughly into your chest, his locked muscles releasing. His hands strained painfully against the restraints, but they were the only things holding him up. “I have lost my mind, Y/N. I cannot live in this way. I am dangerous to you you need to leave—”

“I will not leave you.” You fought, running your hand across his sweaty brow, forcing those gorgeous eyes of his to meet your own as you gripped his chin. “I am not weak. Am I weak, Nikolai?”

He swallowed.

“No.”

“And have I ever left you?”

His eyes shuttered.

“No.” Nikolai’s face crumpled as he shook, dropping his head against your shoulder as you held him. He was gasping for breath, shaking his head lightly back and forth, muttering to himself. “Get it out of me.” He whispered, and your heart cleaved inside your chest. “Get it out. Get it out. Get it out.” He yanked at his chains and let out a scream of anger and pain, shaking in your desperate hold as tears ran hot and fast down your face.

“I am here. I am here.” Your hands gripped his hair, your body pressing him to your own, feeling your nightgown soak as he cried out of frustration.

“I cannot control it.” He wept, wrists raw from struggling as he attempted to calm himself. “I cannot control my own body—my own mind. I will hurt you. Do not allow the one thing I love left to be lost. If I hurt you—” he sucked in a breath and you gripped his head again, pulling his tear stained face off your shoulder to peer up at your own.

“If you cannot control it,” you said, voice trembling as you stared down at the raw blue gaze of your King. “then I will be your control. I will be your anchor.” You wrapped your arms around him, mouth wobbling as you kissed his head. “I will be your tether to this Earth. I will ease your suffering, Nikolai.”

“Please.” He whispered, but was pressing as close to you as he could get. “Please do not leave me alone tonight. Please.”

“I will never leave you alone.” You promised, and when he had calmed enough to attempt to sleep, the clasps still around his wrists, you curled up on the couch, your mind racing and your heart heavy.

short and to the point and very much inspired by bridgerton because it just makes sense