#nikolai lanstov × reader

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

could you write a nikolai fic with the dialogue “will you dance with me? please, pretty please!”

thanks 🤎

May I Have This Dance?

nikolai lanstov x reader - may i have this dance?

word count: 3k

summary: nikolai and y/n share a dance and then sneak away for something more…

warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, partially shirtless nikolai, manwhore nikolai <3

a/n: first request!!!

     The evening had settled over the grand hall of the palace, where the air was filled with the soft rustling of silk gowns and the clink of crystal glasses. The palace was alive with celebration, a banquet in honor of Nikolai Lantsov's triumphs. The night was extravagant, the chandeliers sparkling overhead, their light casting a warm glow over the guests below.

     Y/n stood near the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples spin in graceful rhythm. The music played in the background, the strings and horns blending together in a symphony of joy. She had attended the event with a mix of curiosity and wariness—curiosity about the man everyone spoke of so highly, and wariness because, well, Nikolai Lantsov was unlike any man she had ever met.

     She had caught glimpses of him from across the room, charming guests with his smile, his magnetic presence undeniable. He was a man of many faces—dashing prince, clever tactician, mischievous joker. But Y/n had learned that there was much more to him than the masks he wore. It was the quieter moments, the ones spent in the corners of rooms or the subtle exchanges during casual conversation, that intrigued her the most.

     As she adjusted the sleeve of her gown, her thoughts interrupted, and a soft voice pulled her from her reverie.

     "Ah, there you are. Hiding in the corner, are we?"

     Y/n turned, her heart giving an unexpected jolt. Nikolai stood there, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His golden hair, disheveled just enough to be charming, glinted in the light as he approached her, the confidence in his stride making it impossible for her to look away.

     "I was not hiding," she replied, her tone teasing, though her pulse betrayed her calm facade. "Merely observing."

     "Observing?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression light but interested. "I hope you’re not planning on staying in this corner all evening. It’s far too beautiful a night to waste on solitude."

     Y/n chuckled, a little more nervous than she cared to admit. "And what do you suggest I do with my evening, then?"

     "Well..." His voice lowered, becoming more earnest, as he offered her a sly grin. "It seems to me you’ve been watching the dancers long enough. Perhaps it’s time you joined them."

     Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, though she couldn’t tell if it was excitement or hesitation. She had never been one for dancing, especially in such a grand setting. But Nikolai’s presence was magnetic, pulling her in like the tide.

     Nikolai tilted his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. "I’m sure you could pull off anything, Y/n. You’re already the most captivating person in the room, even without stepping onto the floor."

     Her heart skipped at the compliment, but she tried to hide it with a roll of her eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Highness."

     Flattery?" He raised his hand dramatically, placing it over his heart as if wounded. "I assure you, it’s nothing but the truth."

     Before she could retort, he took a step closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Will you dance with me? Please, pretty please?"

     The playful tone in his voice made it impossible to resist. Y/n’s resolve wavered, and for a moment, she simply stared at him, her mind a whirl of conflicting thoughts. He was, without a doubt, a force of nature. A man who could charm the birds from the trees, and yet, he wasn’t making her feel overwhelmed, but... rather intrigued.

     "I suppose I can’t refuse such a charming request," she finally said, with a smile that was half reluctant and half excited.

     Nikolai grinned, his eyes alight with triumph. "Splendid."

     He extended his hand to her, his fingers warm and inviting. Y/n hesitated for only a second before placing her hand in his. The moment their skin touched, a current of electricity seemed to pass between them, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as if the rest of the world had faded away. The noise of the ballroom, the chatter of the guests, even the music—it all seemed distant, swallowed up by the intensity of their connection.

     With a fluid motion, Nikolai led her onto the dance floor. His steps were sure, confident, as though he had done this a thousand times before, and she found herself matching his movements without thinking. She hadn’t danced in years, but with him, it felt natural, easy. He guided her with such a graceful touch, his hand on her waist steady and reassuring, while his other hand held hers with a tenderness that caught her off guard.

     The music swelled around them, and they moved together, weaving through the sea of other couples. Y/n couldn’t help but be drawn into the rhythm of the dance, her body attuned to his. There was something undeniably captivating about him—the way he made her feel like the only person in the room. His presence was magnetic, his every word laced with charm, and as they danced, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all part of his carefully crafted persona.

     "Are you always this persuasive?" Y/n asked, her voice teasing as she caught his eye.

     Nikolai let out a low chuckle, his gaze never leaving hers. "Only when I know the reward will be worth it."

     "And what is the reward, exactly?" Y/n asked, her heart skipping a beat as they twirled.

     "Why, the pleasure of your company, of course," he replied smoothly. "Though, I must admit, it’s a pleasant surprise that you agreed to dance with me."

     Y/n raised an eyebrow. "A pleasant surprise? You didn’t think I would?"

     Nikolai’s smile widened, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, I had my doubts. But now that we’re here... I’m glad I was wrong."

     The softness in his voice, the way his eyes seemed to hold her attention, sent a wave of warmth through her. She felt as if he was seeing her—really seeing her—in a way no one else had. It was unsettling, how easily he made her feel both exposed and cherished all at once.

     As they continued to dance, the conversation flowed naturally between them, their words playful, light, yet somehow filled with a quiet depth. Nikolai had an uncanny ability to make her laugh, to put her at ease even in the midst of a grand ball. He was never too forward, never too brash, but his presence was undeniable, like the calm before a storm, gentle yet ever-present.

     The music gradually wound down, and the last few couples spun to a stop, leaving the floor almost empty, save for the quiet whispers of those around them. The soft hum of conversation filled the space where the orchestra had just played, and Nikolai gently guided Y/n to a slower pace, their steps slowing in tandem with the fading melody.

     When the music came to an end, there was a brief, almost imperceptible pause, and Nikolai leaned slightly closer, his breath warm against her ear. “You dance with the grace of someone who’s far too modest, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, the playful tone replaced by something far more sincere. “I didn’t expect you to be such a natural.”

     Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, and she met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps I’m just full of surprises.”

     Nikolai’s eyes twinkled, his smile wide and knowing. “I do enjoy a good mystery,” he said, his fingers lightly brushing against the small of her back as he began to steer her off the dance floor. His touch was light, yet there was an undeniable sense of possessiveness to it.

     As they moved toward the edge of the ballroom, where the soft glow of chandeliers bathed the room in warm light, Y/n’s heart raced, and a thought, bold and unexpected, crossed her mind. She glanced around the room, noting the bustling groups of guests and the glint of glassware, the scent of perfume thick in the air. She lowered her voice slightly, making sure no one could overhear them.

     “Is there somewhere... a little more private we could go?” she asked, her words a delicate challenge, daring him to either accept or decline.

     Nikolai’s eyes flickered with surprise for a brief moment, and then a mischievous smile spread across his face, the glimmer in his gaze unmistakable. “Ah, I thought you’d never ask,” he whispered, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned in closer. “There are a few quiet spots, if you’re brave enough to follow me. 

      Y/n’s pulse quickened, but she met his gaze with an unspoken challenge of her own. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”

      With a playful bow, Nikolai offered her his arm, his smile both warm and knowing. “It would be my pleasure.”

     Nikolai guided her through the bustling crowd, the chatter and laughter of the guests slowly fading as they moved deeper into the quieter parts of the palace. The grand ballroom was alive with light and sound, but the farther they got from the center of the celebration, the more the world around them seemed to blur and quiet down. The only sound now was the soft click of their shoes on the polished marble floor, the air heavy with unspoken anticipation.

     As they reached a narrow, secluded hallway, tucked away from the grand festivities, Nikolai paused. The hallway was dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering on the walls, casting long, gentle shadows that danced across the tapestries. The space felt intimate, private—a perfect place for a quiet moment away from the prying eyes of the palace guests.

     Nikolai turned to face her, his expression a mixture of mischief and something deeper, more sincere. His golden hair glinted in the soft candlelight, and his eyes—those ever-changing eyes—were darker now, more focused. His lips curled into a smile, but it was a smile full of intent, full of knowing. “I must admit,” he said quietly, his voice still carrying that charming, playful tone, but now underlined with something that was undeniably magnetic, “I didn’t think you’d be the type to sneak away to a quiet corner.”

     Y/n’s pulse quickened, her heart hammering against her chest. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with possibility. She hadn’t come here to be coy, to play games. She had come here because she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more of him, more of the electrifying chemistry between them. His gaze never left hers, and in that moment, she knew that he, too, was caught in the same web of desire.

     She slowly stepped closer, her gaze dropping to the way the candlelight glinted off his clothing. His shirt—open just enough to reveal the hard lines of his chest—seemed to make him even more alluring. Without thinking, her fingers reached out, brushing against the collar of his shirt. She tugged gently, pulling him closer, her chest brushing against his. The air between them felt charged, as if the space was full of electricity just waiting to snap.

     Nikolai didn’t fight it. Instead, he moved with her, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her to him with a firm, almost possessive grip. His body was warm, solid against hers, and the scent of him—something woodsy and faintly spicy—wrapped around her, making her senses sharpen.

     Their lips met then, and it was as if a dam had broken. His kiss was urgent, hungry, and she responded in kind, matching his intensity with her own. Her fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer, her body pressing into his with a need she hadn’t realized was there. His lips moved against hers in a frantic rhythm, as if they were trying to erase the distance that had always been between them. Y/n felt herself melting into him, the heat of their kiss spreading through her like wildfire.

     For a moment, she forgot everything—forgot about the ball, the guests, the palace. There was only Nikolai, his hands gripping her tightly, his kiss all-consuming. She could feel the heat of him, his body pressing into hers, and it only made her want him more. She felt the familiar flutter in her chest, but this time it was mixed with something stronger, something she couldn’t ignore. Something dangerous.

     When the kiss broke, it wasn’t because they wanted it to. Both of them were panting, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Nikolai’s forehead rested against hers, and for a moment, they simply stood there, eyes closed, as the sound of their ragged breathing filled the space. His hands rested at her waist, fingers splayed, as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

     Y/n’s lips tingled from the kiss, and she slowly met his gaze again, her eyes searching his, full of questions and unspoken thoughts. Without a word, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as they worked their way down, slowly unfastening them one by one. The tension between them was thickening, growing more potent with each passing second. Nikolai didn’t stop her, didn’t protest. Instead, he watched her with that same knowing gaze, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

     As she opened the last button, the fabric parted, revealing the warm expanse of his chest. The candlelight flickered off his skin, casting soft shadows along his muscles, and Y/n couldn’t help but run her hands over the smoothness of his skin, feeling the heat radiating from him. She traced the lines of his chest, her fingertips brushing against the firm ridges of his muscles, feeling the strength beneath the softness.

     Nikolai let out a soft, low groan at her touch, his hands finding their way to her back, pulling her closer. His lips met hers again, this time more demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Y/n’s body responded instantly, her hands sliding lower, her fingers skimming the waistband of his trousers before trailing back up to his chest. Every touch seemed to ignite something within him, and the heat between them grew, intense and overwhelming.

     He responded to her touch with equal fervor, his hands exploring the curve of her back, pressing her further into the wall. There was no space between them now—just the feel of their bodies, the heat of their lips, the urgent desire that swirled around them, thick and all-encompassing.

     Y/n’s breath hitched when his lips trailed down her neck, his hands moving to her waist, pushing her dress up slightly. She could feel the steady, firm pressure of his touch, the heat of his body against hers.

     After what felt like an eternity of heated kisses and tangled bodies, their lips finally parted. The hallway seemed to settle back into its quiet stillness, but neither of them could fully catch their breath. Their chests heaved in unison, hearts racing in a way that felt both thrilling and dizzying. Nikolai's hand lingered at her waist, still pulling her close, his forehead resting against hers as they tried to steady their breaths.

     Y/n’s hair had come undone from its elegant updo, strands falling loose around her shoulders, and she couldn’t help but smile softly at the mess they had made of each other. She glanced up at him, noticing that his usually neat attire was now wrinkled, his golden hair disheveled, and his lips swollen from their kisses. A burst of laughter escaped her lips before she could stop it, her chest still rising and falling rapidly from the intensity of the moment.

     Nikolai looked at her with an amused, almost dazed expression, and a slow, boyish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I think we’ve both seen better days,” he said, his voice still tinged with breathlessness. He reached up, running a hand through his hair, only making it messier, and chuckled.

     Y/n giggled softly, shaking her head, trying to regain some sense of composure. Her fingers went to her hair, attempting to smooth it back into some semblance of order. She knew she’d have to face the guests again soon, and though she was still flushed from their passionate kiss, she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about how disheveled she looked. "You’re right,” she said with a teasing smile, “we look like we’ve been caught in a storm."

     Her fingers worked at her hair, trying to pull the loose strands back into place, but she was distracted by the playful yet intense look in Nikolai’s eyes as he watched her. His gaze softened, his lips still curved into that knowing smile. He reached for her wrist gently, his fingers cool against her warm skin, and with surprising tenderness, he pulled her hand away from her hair.

     “Y/n…” His voice was low and serious now, though there was still a playful edge to it. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers with a certain intensity. "You know, I don’t think we’re quite ready to return to the ballroom just yet. Wouldn’t you agree?”

     Her heart fluttered again, the way his gaze lingered on her, full of unspoken promises, made it clear that this wasn’t a casual suggestion. It was an invitation—a quiet request, one that made her pulse race all over again. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced up at him, the thought of going back to the noisy ballroom seeming less appealing by the second.

     “Where do you suggest we go instead?” Y/n asked softly, her voice almost a whisper as she met his gaze. She could feel the tension between them building once more, the same chemistry that had ignited earlier still simmering beneath the surface. Her body was still humming with the aftereffects of their kiss, and the idea of being alone with him, of indulging in whatever this connection was, felt far more tempting than the thought of returning to the ballroom.

     Nikolai didn’t say a word at first. Instead, he took a small step closer, his thumb brushing against her wrist as he lowered his voice, the words soft yet unmistakably clear. “I think it would be much better if we went back to my bedroom.” His gaze didn’t leave hers, the sincerity in his words making her pulse spike again.

      Y/n’s breath hitched in her chest, the suggestion catching her off guard. She knew she should hesitate, should think it over, but the truth was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he made her feel seen, alive, and desired. Her mind was clouded with the heat of their earlier kiss, the fire that still burned between them.

     Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind swirling with everything they’d just shared, everything that still felt so new and thrilling between them. She wasn’t sure where this would lead, but in that moment, all she could focus on was the way he made her feel. The anticipation, the desire, the pull between them.

     Her gaze flickered to his lips for a brief moment, and then, without thinking, she nodded, her voice barely more than a breath. “Alright, lead the way.”

     Nikolai’s smile deepened, and he stepped closer, his free hand gently guiding her by the elbow. He turned and began walking, but his pace was slow, deliberate, as if savoring every moment of this. Y/n followed close behind, her pulse still racing, her thoughts a whirlwind. She had no idea what would happen once they reached his bedroom, but one thing was certain—there was no turning back now.

[maisy1111]

me after putting down my physical book deciding it’s enough reading for the night just to start reading some fanfics on my phone:

[moonylupinslibrary]

it's always the rich blond with a sunny personality and daddy issues for me

[padsmoony04]

Would having my favorite fictional character as my boyfriend fix any of my problems? No, not at all, but at least I would get comfort cuddles and kisses on my forehead.

[littlest-w01f]

Shaken

"Overstimulation" with:

Stermhond x Reader

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Summary: Being unable to sleep at night on the Volkvolny, the Stermhond provides you with the perfect distraction

Cw: Overstimulation, fingering and oral!F receiving, MxF, Smut 18+ MDNI

As you stood at the rail, gazing out over the vast expanse of water stretching endlessly to the horizon, strong hands came to rest gently on your shoulders. The scent of salt spray and pine-filled your nostrils as a deep, rumbling voice spoke close to her ear.

"Sightseeing, little one?" The Stermhond asked, coming to stand beside you, hand draped over your shoulder. "Or perhaps... looking for a distraction?"

You turned to face him, taking in his ruggedly, slightly scared, handsome features. A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you, his arm still resting on your shoulder.

"I… I was hoping to clear my head," You replied, barely above a whisper. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him despite not knowing him for long, despite the danger he represented. There was something about him that both excited and terrified you. "I've never been on a ship before... It's... Daunting... And I can't sleep"

The Stermhond chuckled, a low, sensual sound that made your heart race, his bold red hair framing his face a little, contrasting against his beautiful green eyes. "And what thoughts were troubling you so, little one? Perhaps I could provide a more… stimulating distraction."

"Is that an offer?" You teased, a coy smile playing across your lips. Despite everything you knew about pirates, or privateers, as he called himself, there was an undeniable allure to this man. His rough edges called out to the adventurous spirit inside you. "Because it seems like you're rather good at making them but would you be able to keep up?"

The Stermhond grinned, a playful glint sparking in his vibrant green eyes as he leaned in closer, bringing his face mere inches away from yours. He smelled like sea air and something undeniably masculine that made your knees weak. "Why, little one, when it comes to distractions, I'm an expert," He murmured, his voice a rich baritone that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine.

At that moment, surrounded by the endless blue expanse, the thrill of the unknown, and the intoxicating presence of this pirate, you felt a hunger stirring within you, a primal urge to surrender to the wildness that dwelled in these waters and in the man standing before you.

His breath ghosted over your skin, sending tingles racing through your body. You could almost taste the salt on his lips, the promise of adventure and forbidden pleasure hanging heavy in the salty air between you. His hand slid from your shoulder to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "Tell me, sweet thing, what sort of distraction do you crave?" The Stermhond purred, his thumb stroking your lower lip as he waited for your response, emerald eyes burning with desire.

You kissed him hard, standing on your toes, as your lips met his, a growl of approval rumbled in his chest. The kiss was fierce, passionate, and filled with an unspoken promise of untamed pleasures yet to come. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him, your breasts pressing against his firm chest.

He began to peel off his layers, revealing muscles earned from the life at sea, each layer discarded leaving you wanting more. The sight of his muscular torso sent a jolt of arousal coursing through your veins.

With surprising strength, the Stermhond hoisted you on a single arm, breaking the kiss only momentarily as he walked back to his quarters inside his ship. Once inside his quarters, he tossed you onto the soft bedding, the motion, paired with the ship's movement causing you to bounce enticingly as you landed. With a predatory grin, he towered over you, his towering frame casting a shadow across your curves.

He pulled you up, singlehandedly undoing your corset, pulling your dress as he kissed you roughly, he wanted to hear his name from you, but his identity was too big a secret, "I want you moaning 'Nik' as I fuck you." As he spoke those words, pressing into you fully, adrenaline coursed through your veins, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. His rough kisses left you breathless, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if committing it to memory.

With a swift tug, he removed your remaining garments, exposing your bare body to the cool air of the cabin. The contrast of warmth and cold made your skin prickle, heightening your senses. He wasted no time in lowering his mouth to your breasts, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking hungrily.

You let out a gasp as he effortlessly undid your corset, pulling your dress down to reveal your cotton garments underneath. His touch was possessive, claiming every part of you as his own. His words echoed in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "Nik…" You whimpered, feeling his hardness press against you through your clothing. The thought of being taken by him was both terrifying and exhilarating.

His calloused fingers trailed over your soft skin, tracing the curve of your waist and hips before settling on the apex of your thighs. He stroked your slick folds, teasing your sensitive bud as he watched your face contort with pleasure. "So responsive already," he mused, relishing how easily he could stoke the flames of your desire.

His fingers circled and rubbed, building delicious pressure as you writhed beneath him. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his hungry mouth as you gasped and moaned his name.

"Please," you panted, desperate for relief from the building tension. "More…"

With a wicked grin, he started to kiss down your body, kissing his way down your quivering stomach, he settled between your legs, spreading them wide to grant him unfettered access to your most intimate area. His hot breath fanned over your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. He licked along your slit, tasting your sweetness, before focusing on your throbbing clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

He descended upon your cunt, his tongue delving deep to lap at your slick folds. He groaned at the taste of your arousal, savouring the tangy sweetness as he explored every crevice. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for his ravenous ministrations.

He flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, the stimulation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. At the same time, he thrust two fingers into your tight channel, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside that made your legs quiver.

"Nnngh, yes!" you cried out, your nails digging into his scalp as he worked you over with relentless fervour. The dual assault of his mouth and fingers had you teetering on the brink of climax, your inner walls clenching around his digits in anticipation.

He continued his oral assault, alternating between long licks and focused attention on your swollen nub. Your juices coated his chin as he lapped at your essence, the obscene sounds filling the cabin mixing with your increasingly loud moans.

As your peak approached, he doubled his efforts, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it mercilessly with his tongue while pumping his fingers faster, deeper, determined to make you fall apart on his mouth.

"NIK!" Your cries reached a fever pitch as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls spasming around his plunging fingers. He worked you through it, prolonging your ecstasy until you collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting.

As you rode out the aftershocks, gasping for air, he slowly withdrew his slick fingers, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, savouring the taste of you. "Mmm, you taste divine," The privateer hummed.

Rising above you, Sturmhond captured your lips in a searing kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He settled himself between your thighs, grinding his thick cock against your quivering cunt. You could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted you.

Breaking the kiss, he gazed down at you with raw, animalistic lust blazing in his eyes. In one smooth motion, he pushed himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his girth. A low groan escaped him at the sensation of your heat enveloping him so perfectly.

Your cries echoed throughout the ship, a lewd symphony that only added to the eroticism of the moment. Each thrust of his cock sent vibrations through your body, amplifying the sensations. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his shaft buried deep within you, stretching you to accommodate his size.

"I'm going to ruin you for other men," He growled as he drew back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing pace as he took you hard and fast, the slap of skin against skin ringing out in the small space. "You'll only be mine."

Your moans increased in the wooden walls as he pounded into you relentlessly, the force of his thrusts making the bed creak ominously. Each plunge of his cock seemed to strike that magic spot deep inside, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves.

The privateer's grunts grew louder, more bestial, as he chased his own release. He hooked your knees over his elbows, angling you to take him even deeper, the head of his cock slamming against your cervix with each brutal stroke.

"Nik! Nik! Oh gods, yes!" you wailed, your voice hoarse from screaming. Your nails scored down his back as he ravaged you, the pain only serving to heighten your pleasure. The intense pleasure triggered your next climax, sending you spiraling into yet another mind-shattering orgasm. Your inner walls clenched and rippled around his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

As he stayed inside you for a long while, he pinched and pulled at your clit to make you cum on his cock, your juices gushing out and coating his shaft as he rolled his hips, grinding against you to prolong both your orgasms, your brain turning mushy from the overstimulation. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he shuddered and jerked above you. He bit down on your shoulder, panting heavily, he collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both struggled to catch your breaths. After a moment, he lifted his head to gaze down at you, a satisfied smirk playing about his lips. "Still think I can't keep up?"

Sturmhond's movements became erratic, driven by primal instinct as he neared his climax. His cock swelled within you, his balls tightening in preparation for release. He leaned down, capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss, muffling your screams as another powerful orgasm tore through you simultaneously with your last one. He roared your name like a battle cry, his seed spurting into you in hot, pulsing jets.

"Not bad for an old man," You panted, a mischievous glint in your eye despite your exhaustion. Your words seemed to ignite something within him, a renewed surge of energy and lust. With a growl, he flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to present yourself to him. His hand cracked across your ass, the sharp sting quickly followed by soothing caresses.

"You're playing with fire, little girl, besides, I'm only two years older than you." He warned, landing another hard spank, watching his cum spurt out of your cunt with each impact. He spread your cheeks, exposing your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze. Leaning in, he dragged his tongue through your slick folds, savouring the musky flavour of your cum mixed with his own seed.

His fingers probed your stretched opening, scooping up the creamy fluid before bringing it to his lips for a taste. "Mmm, look at you…so messy, so dirty…" He murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "I'm going to have to punish this naughty cunt."

Without warning, he plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaked heat, curling them to rub that sensitive spot inside. His thumb found your clit, circling it firmly as he finger-fucked you with ruthless intensity.

You whined with your face pressed into the pillow, sound muffled as you screamed in pleasure. His rough handling sent waves of bliss coursing through your body, rendering you utterly helpless beneath him. You could do nothing but accept his brutal fucking, the slap of flesh echoing in the room with each powerful thrust of his fingers.

"Oh gods, yes! More!" You begged, your hips bucking back against his hand, seeking more of that exquisite torture. The feeling of being so thoroughly taken, so completely fucked, drove you wild with desire.

"That's it, take it like the desperate slut you are." He growled, adding all four fingers to your already stuffed cunt, thumb still massaging your swollen clit. The stretch burned so good, pushing you right to the edge of too much. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he scissored his fingers inside you, spreading you open wider.

Tears streamed down your face from the overwhelming stimulation, drool pooling on the pillow below. Your entire body shook and twitched with pleasure, your mind hazing over with pure lust. He worked you closer and closer to another explosive climax, the pressure building in your core to unbearable levels.

His relentless assault on your cunt pushed you over the brink, your body convulsing as another orgasm ripped through you. Your inner walls clamped down on his invading fingers, rhythmically squeezing them as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.

As you came undone beneath him, squirting your release all over his hand and the bed, he continued his merciless fingering, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of your quivering cunt, drawing out your pleasure until you were a boneless, trembling mess. Finally, he slowed his movements, gentling his touch as he coaxed you through the final tremors. Only when your body went limp did he finally withdraw his drenched digits, admiring the sight of your gaping, twitching hole left behind.

With a wicked grin, he dived back into pleasuring your sensitive cunt. His tongue lapped at your wetness, savouring every drop of your sweet cum. He focused especially on your throbbing clit, flicking it mercilessly with his tongue.

He licked and sucked at your sensitive flesh, alternating between broad strokes and teasing flicks, keeping you balanced precariously on the knife's edge of sensation.

"Too much," You cried out, buckling your hips as he held them still, it felt like you could cum from a single touch by him, "Ah-"

Your legs began to tremble, threatening to give out entirely if not for his firm grip on your hips. He could feel you teetering on the brink again, your body tensing, preparing for another shattering climax. With a final, hard suck on your clit, he sent you hurtling over the precipice once more, your vision whiting out as rapture consumed you.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and shuddering helplessly beneath him. He rode out the aftershocks with you, his tongue never ceasing its relentless assault on your oversensitive clit until you were a whimpering, spent mess.

Finally, he pulled back, giving your abused clit one last tender lick before crawling up your body to claim your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved deep, tasting himself on your tongue, mingling with the remnants of your own arousal.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and a hint of cruel amusement. "So many orgasms in one session? That's impressive," He mused, wrapped an arm around you.

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he gathered you close when he noticed your dropping eyes, tired, your sweaty bodies pressing together intimately. He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so that you lay draped across his broad frame. One large hand stroked idly along your spine while the other tangled in your damp hair, gently massaging your scalp. For several long moments, you simply lay there, basking in the afterglow. Gradually, your breathing slowed, and heart rates returning to normal, eyes dropping shut.

[callsign-rogueone]

sword and scale

Nikolai Lantsov x mermaid!reader

words: 3.3k

🏷️: kinda a little mermaid au, kinda not, brief description of reader being held captive, and the threat of being skinned / their scales being removed but it doesn’t happen! and the gang killing some people, but nothing more severe than canon. I’m still in the middle of the show, but I finished the trilogy so I feel like I have a decent handle on him, idk, canon divergent because I wanted to have the whole gang here, Zoya does Not like you (if I continue this, I promise she’ll get her redemption!), soft shy Nik, me making shit up about mermaids, reader is kinda innocent and doesn’t know much about humanity, but Nik is gentle and doesn’t take advantage of her, just one (1) forehead kiss and some closeness, nothing more, I don’t remember anything about the layout of the Volkovny, okay that’s it bye ilysm! back to our irregularly-scheduled fourth wing content after this, I promise <3

“Rise and shine, little fishie. You have a visitor upstairs.”

You don’t deign to respond, still facing away from them. Whoever it is that’s here to see you is undoubtedly just as vile as the rest of the crew, and you have no interest in entertaining them.

“She dead?”

“She can’t be. I watered her an hour ago.”

“She’s a fish, not a plant.”

The cell unlocks, the wood floor creaking under someone’s footsteps — and then they nudge you with their boot, seeing you flinch. “Told you.”

You don’t struggle as they scrape you off the hard floor, their fingers digging into your already-bruised skin. You need to save what little energy you have left if you’re going to be able to attempt an escape. If you can manage to get loose from their grip, you can throw yourself overboard back into the water.

They finally get you up to the deck, and you ake a moment to drink it in; the fresh air, the smell of the ocean and the feeling of sun on your face… Freedom.

Now.

You thrash in their hold, trying to slip free, but it’s useless — they’re much stronger than you to begin with, and you’re weakened, sick from spending the last three days out of the water.

And then you see him.

Nikolai Lantsov is standing fifty feet away, along with half a dozen other humans you’ve never seen before. He spots you, and his jaw clenches, an anger you’ve never seen before spreading across his face, deepening the crease between his brows.

The man who’d tossed you in that cell smiles as he speaks, and you can hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. “You don’t just want to sell her. You’re attached to her, and this is some kind of rescue mission. Guess we should have filleted her the day we caught her, eh boys?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, panic starting to rise in your throat. You know they were after your tail, so some wealthy merchant could hang it on his wall, or rip off your scales to sell for their medicinal properties, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying now that it’s actually happening.

And even if they don’t kill you, only cut you up and throw you back into the deep, your scales won’t grow back — not that many, and not for years. You’ll die without them, with nothing to keep the cold water from freezing your blood. Assuming you don’t bleed out first. They probably won’t stitch you back up after skinning you.

“Let her go, and there won’t be any trouble,” one of Nikolai’s friends tries.

“If you think I’m going to toss a billion Kruge back into the ocean, you’re really an idiot.”

“Then you’ll die a poor man.”

Your captors are the first to hit the floor, the rest of Nikolai’s friends moving in synchrony to take down the rest of the crew while he runs straight to you.

He drops to his knees, his eyes now level with yours, and you turn your head away in shame — you wish he wasn’t here to see you like this, battered and bruised, your skin and scales turning sickly colors now that you’ve been out of the ocean for days, with only the occasional bucket of filthy water dumped over your head to keep you alive.

He reaches up with one hand, cradling your bruised cheek. His skin is warm against yours, as it always has been, that same softness in his eyes as he looks at you.

“Hi, pearl,” he whispers.

You manage a smile. “Hi, Niki.”

“Let’s get you out of here.”

He moves to gather you into his arms, his chest pressed to yours for a split second — then there’s a sharp pain in your waist, and a flash of light…

You crumple, unable to keep yourself upright, but he holds you tightly, taking off his jacket and using it to cover you, passing you to a woman in a red coat. “Get her back to the Volkovny.”

—————

The woman is kind, looking at you with sincere pity in her eyes as she guides you along, supporting your weight as you make your first few stumbling steps, getting you back to the other ship and taking you inside, guiding you to sit on a chair.

“… Can you understand me?”

You hadn’t realized she was speaking to you. You blink, finding your answer. “Yes. Nikolai Lantsov taught me your language.”

Her eyebrows raise, but they fall quickly. “So you know who he is, then.”

“Yes. He is a ship captain. We have been friends for many years, but I don’t see him often.”

She hums in response, turning back and continuing to dig through a large trunk, making a sound of satisfaction as she pulls out some clothing.

She pauses suddenly, turning back to you. “I’m Genya, by the way.”

You offer her a weak smile, giving her your name as well. “Nice to meet you, Genya.”

She hands you a shirt and pants, helping you keep your balance as you put them on. The feeling of the fabric against your skin is unusual, but it helps fight the intense chill you’ve felt for the last few days that you’ve spent out of the water.

Her presence is calming, steady, helping warm you up and dry your hair, fading the cuts and bruises you’d sustained from the crew’s rough handling.

You finally get a good look at yourself in the small mirror she passes you, your reflection clear without ripples from the water.

Your gills are gone, your teeth less sharp… You bring a hand up to brush the hair back from your ears, which are now rounded, not fanned… your fingers, the hollow space between them, and the bluntness of your nails…

You’re… human.

There’s a knock on the doorframe. “Crew meeting, or something,” says an awkward-looking man in a purple coat like hers.

“We’ll be up in a minute, David.”

He just nods, avoiding eye contact with either of you.

Genya gives you a final look, humming in approval. “Ready?”

You nod, taking her outstretched hands and rising to your… feet. Your legs shake, but not enough to knock you over as you take your first steps.

She perches on the arm of a chair next to David, leaving you to sit beside Nikolai.

“A siren dressed as a tidemaker,” one of the women mutters. “How utterly ironic.”

The words are out of your mouth and into the air faster than you can think of the consequences they may have. “Sirens are vile creatures who have nothing better to do than sink ships. I’m a Nereid. Or a mermaid, as you like to call us.”

Genya smiles into her sleeve at the stunned look on her crewmate’s face, as does the woman by her side, who wears another blue coat, but with glittering gold patterns on the collar.

You give them a thankful glance, before looking back to Nikolai. He still looks… It’s hard to describe it. Pensive, maybe. Trying, like all of you, to make sense of this situation. But there’s guilt underneath that. Shame.

“Okay, if nobody else is gonna ask... what just happened?” the largest man you’ve ever seen asks candidly. “And how?”

Another man speaks up. “You haven’t heard the fairy tales? A man who truly loves a mermaid and looks at her without possession in his heart can turn her human, as long as she loves him back.”

The two of you blink at each other slowly.

He loves you? You’d quietly accepted that you could never be together, pushed down the feelings, but you’d never expected that he returned them.

“And any man who cuts the skin of a mermaid is doomed to a life without happiness. That’s why the other captain didn’t want to do it himself.”

Your head is still spinning. “Hold on. How did you find me, anyway?”

“Your echoes,” he answers. “After they captured you, I could hear you crying.”

Your lips part, stunned. “You can hear echoes? I didn’t think any humans could.”

“I’ve always been able to. Even across the true sea, I can find where you are.”

“You’re a Pair,” the other kind woman says softly, elaborating when she sees the confusion on Nikolai’s face. “Stop me if I’m wrong, but from what I’ve read about Merpeople, they mate for life, and in most cases they find that the one they’ve chosen is like a soulmate — they are bonded physically, with their powers being stronger together. And they are always able to find each other, no matter how far the waves have taken them.”

Your eyes are still locked with Nikolai’s as you speak, unable to keep the shake from your voice. “Yes. All of that is correct.”

The sour woman rolls her eyes. “The second prince of Ravka is soulmates with a fish.”

You ignore the slight, focusing on the other words. “Prince?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Oh, for Saint’s Sake,” she huffs, speaking slowly, like one might to a child. “He’s royalty. The son of our King.”

“They don’t have such a concept,” the blue-and-gold woman says. “They are all held equal by their deities.”

She looks even more visibly disgusted at the notion.

“Alright,” the giant says, standing, and changing the subject. “That was… informative. Who wants dinner?”

The crew leave one by one or two by two, leaving just you and Nikolai alone on the small couch.

“Please say something,” you ask softly, keeping your hands in your lap — he might not want to be touched right now.

“I think… I think I felt your pain.”

You give him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. They weren’t particularly gentle.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says quietly. “I just… as soon as I felt it, I realized what was happening, and all I could think about was you, and finding my way to you… killing whoever it was that dared harm you.”

You hadn’t seen what fate befell the rest of the crew after he’d passed you off to Genya. “Did you?”

He sounds ashamed. “I did.”

“I would have done the same. Every time I saw you, you had some new scar, some injury…” you shake your head. “It tore me up inside.”

There’s a moment of quiet, then some whispering, and then one of the men steps back into the room. “I’m really sorry if this is offensive, but… do your people eat fish?”

You laugh, a sparkling sound that has him laughing nervously as well. “Yes, we do. It is most of what we eat. Thank you for asking.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t make a move to leave, either.

You have a thousand questions for all of them, but it’s probably best not to ask when that woman is in the room. And he seems kind, like his mate. He won’t laugh at you. “Do none of you have family names?”

“We do. Mine is Oretsev. Malyen Oretzev. But everybody calls me Mal.”

You nod.

“They don’t do nicknames, or first names only like we do,” Nikolai explains to Mal. “A family name is equally important as the one you were given by your elders.”

“The people like your mate, who wear these,” you say carefully, touching your collar, “they have left their elders, to go learn their… magic?”

“Most of them, yes. And they call it a kefta.”

“Kefta,” you repeat. “I like it. It’s very warm. Thank you, Malyen Oretzev. You are a credit to your kind.”

His cheeks turn pink, the way you’ve seen Nikolai’s do before — the way yours would turn purple. “Of course. And don’t worry about Zoya. She’s like that with everyone.”

He turns, headed back to the rest of the crew. You sigh, pulling your legs up toward your chest like you would your tail, and shifting in your seat. You still don’t feel quite right in any position, but the exhaustion is catching up with you, and you’ve given up on trying to be comfortable.

Nikolai moves a bit closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He’s warm, and the muscle is a good pillow. “I’ve never seen your hair dry,” he says idly, touching the ends.

“I haven't, either.”

You must have fallen asleep, because moments later he’s stirring you gently, patting your arm. “You should eat. I’m sure they weren’t feeding you well.”

“They didn’t at all,” you murmur.

There’s another flicker of anger in his eyes, but it passes quickly.

He takes a spot at the end of the table, with you to his right.

Your eyes catch on the water glass in front of you. You’re too tempted not to try it, flexing your fingers in the air and pulling up — and a stream of water rises to greet you, winding around your hand.

“It still works,” you breathe. There’s still some part of you left deep inside, a glimmer of your magic and the being you once were.

“So she truly is a tidemaker,” Genya says with a smug look in Zoya’s direction as she settles down with her plate.

“To call myself the maker of the tides would be an insult to our goddess, who gave us the moon to move the waters so we might live in them. But I think it is a clever name.”

David finally speaks. “How do you communicate under the water?”

“Echoes, mostly. And we have a… hand language, for when the water is clear, and someone is close enough to see you.”

“Fascinating. Do you think a human could learn to do that? The echoes?”

“None that I’ve met so far,” you answer with an affectionate glance at Nikolai. “And it’s not for lack of trying.”

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Alina asks.

“She rescued me from a shipwreck, years ago.”

The giant nods. “He washed up on the same beach we did, talking about how a mermaid saved him, and he became obsessed with finding her again. We all thought he was losing his marbles, until he showed us that.”

He nods toward Nikolai, and you turn your head to see a glimmer of blue in his hand.

You had cut your hip quite badly on a scrap of metal from the wreckage, and lost several scales, one of which you’d pressed against a deep wound on his shoulder, sealing the skin.

It’s faded over time, its magic drained from you using it to heal his wounds, but it still shines in the low light of the room.

“It’s worth millions, by the way, but he never even thought about selling it.”

Nikolai slips the thin chain over his head, shifting your hair onto one of your shoulders so that he can clasp it behind your neck.

“Thank you,” you say softly, reaching for his hand. He gives yours a gentle squeeze, his thumb stroking over the joints affectionately.

The meal passes quietly, with no more remarks from Zoya or questions from anyone. It’s Mal and David’s turn to wash the dishes, and they stay behind while everyone else gets to bed early, exhausted from the events of the day.

You aren’t sure where to go.

“We don’t have an extra bunk, and I’m a little worried about leaving you and Zoya alone in a room together,” Nikolai begins, looking a little pink. “You can take my bed, and I’ll sleep in the office.”

“Of course not,” you say with a shake of your head. “I will take the… office, or we can share.”

“Alright, then.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, guiding you down the few steps to a nicely furnished room.

Another moment of awkwardness.

“Could you…” you begin, suddenly shy, “Genya put a dozen pins in my hair, and I’m still not very good with… these.”

You cast another glance down at your hands, the blunt nails and separated fingers that you’ve laced together in front of you. The feeling of your bones pressing together as you clasp them is oddly comforting.

“Of course.”

He motions for you to sit in the sole chair in the room, deftly finding the hidden metal pins and removing them slowly, taking care not to pull your hair.

How had you ever doubted that he loved you?

It’s suddenly all too much, your eyes welling with tears. The droplets slipping down your cheeks feel like the salty ocean water, but warmer. You raise the sleeve of your coat — kefta — to wipe them away.

You’ve never disliked the feeling of water on your face. This must be a new, human instinct.

The thought only has more tears pouring down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper. “I’m so sorry that they did all of that to you, and that I changed you, forever. I’ll spend the rest of our days making it up to you. I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make you feel comfortable…”

He looks like he might cry himself.

You lay your hand over his that rests on your shoulder. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t come to my rescue, I’d be dead on the bottom of the ocean and never get to see you again. And now I can truly be with the man I love, and see the rest of the world that he’s told me about so many times.”

He gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand.

“And thank you, for everything else. Answering my thousand questions about humans, teaching me the language… and never seeing me as a monster.”

“I could never see you as anything but the woman I love,” he says softly. “You’ve always been beautiful to me, with fangs or without them.”

“You are a poet at heart, Nikolai Lantsov. And by far my favorite human.”

His cheeks warm, but he’s still quick to come up with a smart response. “And how many humans have you met?”

There’s that laugh again, the sound he loves more than anything. “If you count those terrible men, then quite a few. But none as kindhearted, as sharp, or as handsome as you.”

He gives you a sly smile. “You found me handsome, even when we were different species?”

It’s your turn to flush. “Of course I did. We’re not so different, after all.”

He lays the final pin on the table, and you’re almost a little disappointed that he’s done. “Bathe, and get some sleep,” he encourages softly, cradling your cheek in a soft hand, and laying a kiss to your forehead before he slips away.

It’s easy enough to remove the clothing, to take the few short steps to the tub of warm water, but you can’t bring yourself to climb into it. You stand there a moment, until the human instinct to scrub away the dirty feeling of being held captive in that ship takes over.

One foot, then the other. The warm water greets you happily, lapping against your skin. It’s not quite the same as the ocean, but it’s a comfort, soothing the ache in your new joints and muscles that you’ve never used as you lower yourself to sit on the bottom.

You tip your head back against the edge, closing your eyes with a soft sigh. At least you’ll have baths for the rest of your human life, to remind you of home — nothing will ever feel as comfortable as being in water.

You lay there for a while, until the water starts to cool, and you sit up to take the soap and cloth he’d left you to wash your skin.

Nikolai must feel your panic, because he’s through the door in seconds, his hand on the hilt of his sword and his eyes scanning the darkened room for any sign of a threat — and then they settle on something blue, shimmering in the low light.

Your tail.

[jahayla-parker]

Nikolai lantsov x reader. Nikolai and reader having a sarcastic bit of banter on the ballroom floor.

Appearances : Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

Descr: 3.1k wc, Newly-crowned Nikolai and y/n must make it appear as though the King is actually considering an arranged marriage. Can they both keep up the act or will their bantering lead to the death of said appearances? Fluff, hurt-comfort, bantering

Warnings: discussions of arranged marriages, Grishaverse topics, slight angst, a few curses, flirting, slightly suggestive at the end

Y/n ran her shaking hands downwards on her white ball gown. Don’t look at him. That’ll only make it worse. She steadied her breath as she traipsed through the crowd of gathered Princesses. Don’t look at them either. They’re far too beautiful and regal. Don’t be jealous. Her heels clicked against the ballroom floor under her feet. While her dress muffled the sound, making it so y/n could hardly hear it, her sanity clung to the barely audible noise. She could stress over trying to maintain her careless and stoic facade, or she could focus on simply keeping herself on her feet instead of tripping. Which would be simple enough if it weren’t for the gaggle of Princesses currently flirting with her boyfriend.

Nikolai was Ravka’s recently coronated King. As such, his advisors suggested it would be best to keep his options open. Or, at least make it seem as though he was. Zoya in particular, had pointed out that by doing so it allowed Nikolai and Ravka to seek treaties and other offerings from various territories interested in forming an arranged marriage with the new Ravkan King. Truth be told, Nikolai had no intention of actually agreeing to any proposed marriage with the Princesses that had been frequenting the castle off and on for the last few months. And quite frankly, he despised having to pretend otherwise. Especially when it meant he had to watch the woman he actually had such feelings for be pushed aside. Nikolai knew this was what his country needed. After all, such appearances had already warranted Ravka two peace treaties and a year’s supply of oats; deals which they’d written to remain even when he announced he would not be marrying any of the Princesses of the partner lands.

Y/n stepped into the hallway, letting her eyes wander over the ornate marble walls for distraction. Her fingers trailed over the sculpted hills and valleys. A light smile formed as she felt the ridges of the Lantsov crest under her fingertips.

Nikolai leaned his shoulder blades against the edge where the doorway to the ballroom met the hallway wall. Y/n had wandered out here randomly. Was something troubling her? Nikolai’s worries were silenced and he grinned to himself as he silently watched y/n rub the ornate wall. When she turned around and noticed his presence, his smile shifted into a flirtatious smirk. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing out here?”

Y/n shot Nikolai an irritated look. Really?!

Nikolai’s smirk disappeared. Had he done something? “Milaya?” Nikolai squinted in question. He rose from his relaxed position against the doorframe in order to move closer to her.

“Nikolai,” y/n responded stiffly, pointedly looking behind him towards the ballroom teeming with royal suitors. They were sure to suspect something if they’d heard his flirtations. Besides, he should be in there wooing them instead. The thought made her chest tighten.

Following y/n’s explanation without having to actually look towards where she was staring, Nikolai shrugged casually. “I’d rather be here with you,” he flirted. A small and sincere but playful smile donned his face.

Y/n sighed quietly. Her eyes flickered to her feet as her toes moved the points of them side to side. “Nik,” she whispered before biting her bottom lip.

The corners of Nikolai’s mouth rose, head tilting to the side slightly. His eyes practically glistened as he took in y/n’s reaction. It was a simple truth. A compliment, perhaps. But a simple truth nonetheless. And yet, here she was, flustered and bashful. Even after nearly five years. Nikolai couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his heart as he gazed at her.

“What is it darling?” Nikolai cooed, moving closer to y/n. “Am I truly the lucky man who gets to earn such a bashful reaction over stating a basic fact?” He strode up to her, ready to wrap her in his arms.

“Stop,” y/n whined. Her voice was soft but she still commanded her eyes to look up from the ground. She had to get him to stop. People could be watching. They had appearances to uphold.

“What?”

“You know what!” Y/n scolded with a shake of her head. When Nikolai feigned innocence, she huffed. Her eyes moved away from hazel ones as she prepared to explain herself. Even though he already knew. “You're being all cute and sweet,” she murmured, eyeing the intricacies of the engravings on the wall beside her yet again. “It’s making me want to kiss you”. Her words came out breathy and hushed.

Nikolai’s pride formed a smirk on his face. “Well,” he began, his right hand finding y/n’s chin. He turned her head towards him slowly, “you know…it is my job to make sure you want for nothing”.

Damn those coruscating eyes of his. Damn the obnoxiously flawless skin. And damn that mesmerizing smile he was wearing. Taking a slightly shaky but deep breath, y/n steeled herself. “Actually,” she corrected, taking a step back until she broke contact with Nikolai’s hand. “Moi tsar, your job is upholding an appearance”. As painful as the reminder was, they both needed it. Especially given the way he was looking at her presently. “Which, you’re not doing very well right now,” she criticized.

“Oh?” Nikolai questioned, intrigued. He quirked his left brow as he stepped nearer to y/n. “And why do you say that?”

Y/n gave Nikolai a knowing look. Rolling her eyes, she made her way to the middle of the hallway. Closer to the ballroom she’d been trying to escape. Although truthfully it wasn’t the room itself that had made her nauseated. That was a result of the people in said room. The situation that had brought said guests to the ballroom in the first place. Yet, it was precisely that situation she needed to remind Nikolai, her King, of. “You’re supposed to be out there flirting with them,” she said, tone not doing much to hide her annoyance.

��Look at you,” Nikolai hummed, observing the look of disgust on y/n’s face. “So jealous, huh?" He teased, meeting her in the middle of the hallway.

“Shut the hell up."

“Aww, you're blushing. I like that look on you,” Nikolai admitted. It made her smile somehow even more radiant. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and playfully ruffled her hair. He chuckled and grinned as she grumbled at his behavior.

“Go tend to your guests,” y/n scoffed, moving out of Nikolai’s arms.

“You don’t need to be jealous, Solnyshka,” Nikolai promised quietly. His body instinctively reached for her.

“I know,” y/n nodded in reassurance. “I’m merely annoyed,” she said defensively. She crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed Nikolai. “You’d be feeling same if I flirted with you but you couldn’t act on it”.

Nikolai’s arms lowered back to his sides as the tone of their interaction shifted. His smirk returned and he shook his head. “I have had years of maintaining an image,” he reminded her, “I’d be fine”.

Y/N’s gaze narrowed. She pursed her lips, clenching her jaw. “And you are saying that I cannot?”

Nikolai looked around, teasingly hesitating to answer. He shrugged confidently. “Don’t worry, it’s flattering,” he smirked.

“Sweetheart,” y/n taunted, nearing Nikolai. Her lips curled into a smirk as Nikolai’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, eyes widening at her sudden choice of words. “I have to pretend as if I’m okay with this whole ordeal,” she reminded him, nodding her head towards the ballroom, “on a far too frequent basis”.

Nikolai frowned, his voice taking on a serious tone for a moment. “You know I despise putting you in that type of environment,” he sighed.

Y/n shrugged off the idea so as to not focus too much on it. “I’m merely saying if i can handle the horde of beautiful buffoons fawning all over you without screaming how you’re mine-“.

“Yours, hmm?” Nikolai questioned, smirk returning. When y/n simply rolled her eyes in response, he dropped his smirk and grabbed her hand. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s, it’s just for-“.

“Appearances,” y/n finishes for Nikolai, “I know.” She nodded with an understanding smile. “What I was saying, is that if I can handle upholding such appearances as though we’re not together during these events, I can handle doing so despite your persistent flirtations as well”.

“We’ll see,” Nikolai murmured. “We’ll see?” Y/n echoed in question as he slowly let go of her hand, walking backwards towards the doorway. “I really ought to be returning,” he sighed sincerely. “But,” he continued, eyes glowing as he added, “we can test out your theory”.

“That's almost exactly the opposite of what I was getting at.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Nikolai winked before dipping back into the ballroom.

“Do you have a map?” Nikolai’s voice inquired suddenly while y/n was talking with an ambassador from a nearby country. She turned to face the interruption. However, before she could respond, Nikolai leaned in until his lips were nearly touching her ear.

Nikolai lowered his voice, whispering into y/n’s ear, “because, I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost in your eyes”.

Y/n visibly stiffened, faking a cough to hide her surprise at Nikolai’s unexpected advance. Now was so not the time. At least the ambassador seemed to have taken Nikolai’s whispering as it simply being a private inquiry follow up to the question Nikolai had asked when he first approached. She gave the ambassador an apologetically appreciative smile before gripping Nikolai’s arm and pulling him away from the man.

“Moi tsar,” y/n groaned pointedly. “Must you flirt in the most awkward situations?” She hissed, looking back at the man whom she was trying to arrange a deal with.

“You know you love it,” Nikolai winked slyly. He used the arm that y/n wasn’t currently gripping to lightly pull her fingers off of his forearm. Once successful, he squeezed her hand lovingly before slowly dropping it as he moved to return to his earlier responsibilities.

“Ahh, why if it isn’t the lovely Ms. y/l/n,” Nikolai hummed as he approached y/n. He held in a chuckle as he noticed her trying to hide her slight annoyance over his presence. “Do you need a knight in shining armor? Because I’m prepared to rescue you,” Nikolai cooed in greeting as he reached her side.

Y/n tried not to roll her eyes. The man she’d been talking with was the father of one of the Princesses Nikolai was supposed to be courting. Or, pretending to court anyways. The man was widely known for being overly chatty, a reputation so well known even the man himself had commented on it upon meeting them the first time. Nikolai was seemingly relying on the man’s self-awareness of this fact to be able to make such a pick-up line type greeting seem normal.

“The only rescuing I need is from your interruptions,” y/n remarked in annoyance before returning to the conversation. “Your Majesty,” she added when she saw the man was a bit concerned about the response.

Nikolai chuckled quietly, “very well, milaya”. He was humming as he left.

“The King is quite charming in his pursuits, isn’t he?” The man inquired, eyeing y/n closely.

Y/n hummed tightly. “Some might take his charisma that way,” she indirectly revised, hoping to reassure the man that Nikolai wasn’t flirting with her. That she wasn’t one of his pursuits. After all, she wasn’t supposed to be an option. Much less a threat to any of the women present or their families.

“Thank you for that explanation. Your knowledge on this matter is very vast, Ms. Y/l/n, you’re quite intelligent,” Prince Cyril Whitlock of Evandaria, a small country several territories to the east of Ravka, complimented.

Nikolai had already been standing beside y/n, having called her over when Prince Whitlock had asked about a topic he knew y/n was passionate was about. Nikolai turned to smile at her. “I agree Cyril”. “Miss y/l/n, are you certain you’re not secretly a princess?” He questioned, resisting the desire to curl his smile into a smirk.

The Prince chuckled at the seemingly innocent compliment before he excused himself to go check on his sister.

Once the Prince was out of earshot, Y/n raised a brow, turning to face Nikolai. He knew she wasn’t a Princess. What was he getting at?

“After all, you’ve ruled my heart from the moment I saw you,” Nikolai concluded, a faint smirk growing.

Despite the flustered expression y/n knew she was now displaying, she pushed to regain her composure. Over Nikolai’s shoulder, she could see the girls saw girls watching her closely. Jealous. Intimidated. Y/n shook her head as she tried to focus on keeping up their appearances. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line."

Nikolai widened his eyes dramatically and guffawed. He shook his head, lifting y/n’s hand and kissing the back of it as he whispered her name lovingly in exit.

Y/n gnawed at her inner cheek as she watched Nikolai’s royal guests continue to try to get his attention. They looked like hyperactive peacocks, constantly fluffing their dresses and puffing their chests to accentuate their cleavage.

Nikolai blindly made his way to y/n, approaching from behind. Yet, he could tell from her body language that she was frowning. Time to fix that. “You're so cute when you pout like that,” murmured upon reaching her side.

Y/n wanted to and did in fact began to protest that she was not pouting. But she knew better. She’d managed to keep a full scowl off her face. And at this point that was impressive enough. Nikolai had obviously caught her. But she wasn’t going to let him continue to tease her for it. She feared if she did, she would certainly be risking not upholding the false premise that she didn’t have feelings for him. “It's a real shame nobody asked for your opinion."

“Oh really,” Nikolai purred smugly as he leaned closer. “So you don’t want me to whisper in your ear just how radiant I think you look tonight?”

“N-no.”

“That wasn’t very convincing, love”.

Y/n slowly spun to face Nikolai. She was wanting to cave from the constant flirtations and the way he was currently looking at her. Those loving hazel eyes openly admiring her. But it wasn’t up to her. She had to uphold the agreed upon appearances Nikolai’s council had settled on. Even if it was starting to hurt. Even if she craved nothing more than to just pull him to her and devour his lips the way she wanted.

“I can't concentrate, when you look at me like that darling,” Nikolai whispered, voice sincere and loving as he looked into y/n’s adoring gaze.

“I won’t apologize given I’d rather you be concentrating on me instead, so...” y/n shrugged weakly.

Nikolai sensed the that while their banter had started out innocently playful, he’d made this situation hurt more for her. Fuck. That was the opposite of his intentions. “You know I too, would rather me be concentrating on you instead,” he whispered, grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her to him.

As Nikolai snaked his arms around her waist, he beamed lovingly down at her. “Saints, I’ve missed being able to do this,” he murmured.

“Better be careful or they're all gonna think they have no chance with you, they’ll think you're only mine,” y/n warned. It physically hurt to resist the desire to melt into Nikolai’s embrace. But half of the ballroom’s audience were currently staring them down.

“Know,” Nikolai corrected warmly. “They’ll know they have no chance because I’m all yours,” he smiled. “And so be it. Let them.” With that, he lovingly tilted her head up and pressed his lips to hers.

“Are you crazy?” Y/n asked breathlessly, looking around and seeing wide and angry eyes starting at her.

“For you? Yes, Milaya,” Nikolai winked, flirtation back knowing he’d ended the problem at hand.

“Nik!” Y/n hissed. “Do you realize what you just did?” She scolded, although she didn’t move to get out of his hold.

“‘Course I do,” Nikolai smiled. “I showed everyone here including Prince Cyril that you're mine”.

“We both know that's not why you did it, you’re not a jealous man,” y/n argued. “Regardless though Kolya…” She sighed. “You know you just made every girl here feel like they never had a shot with you”, she murmured quietly. She could still feel the piercing eyes of the angry Princesses on them.

Nikolai casually shrugged, “I mean, they didn't.” “You do know that right?” He squinted worryingly.

Y/n smiled softly. “I know, Moi Tsar,” she cooed, “but Zoya wants you to maintain an appearance as though-”

“Damn with appearances,” Nikolai huffed, tugging y/n closer by the hold he had on her waist. “I’m the King, and if I want to kiss and dance with my nastoyashchaya lyubov in front of others, so be it”.

Trying to hide the impact Nikolai’s nicknames, words, declaration, and public display of affection had on her, y/n decided to return to their earlier banter. “And what if she doesn't wish to dance with you?”

Nikolai’s brows rose as he asked, “are you serious?”

“You’re lucky you’re cute cause you’re not always so smart,” y/n teased smugly.

Nikolai beamed at y/n having returned to their normal banter. She was feeling better. She knew he loved her and only her. He shook his head lovingly, tightening his arms around her to hold her even closer. “I am damnably handsome,” he agreed, “but I’ll have you recall that I’m also-”.

“Brave in battle,” y/n said, quoting Nikolai’s previous account of himself when masquerading as Sturmhond. “Smart as a whip,” she added, knowing that was the addition he had planned to make in protest to her teasing about his intellect.

“I’m also an excellent dancer,” Nikolai added with a grin as he too quoted himself. He stepped back just enough to grab y/n’s hands in his. He moved her free hand to his shoulder before placing one his own empty hand on back on her lower back. As she leaned in to rest her head on his upper chest, he hummed softly. “Your forgetfulness over my intelligence suggests I might need to remind you of the many other things I excel at,” he whispered into her ear seductively, smirking when she buried her head further into his collarbone. “Saints I love you,” he cooed, craning his neck and tucking her head under his chin. Thank the Saints they were done with keeping the appearance as though they were merely friends. This was much better.

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[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Girl from the Volkvolny

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: i haven't written for nik in SO longgggg it was so good to write for him again!! i hope yall enjoy it!

nikolai masterlist

Nikolai Lantsov had expected many things from his wedding day—dull, tedious traditions, a wife he’d never met, and the weight of Ravka’s future pressing against his spine. But he hadn’t expected her.

The doors of the cathedral creaked open, and Nikolai’s smirk—polished and practiced—froze on his lips.

There she was.

The girl from the Volkvolny.

Y/N.

She stepped forward, her face half-veiled, but Nikolai didn’t need to see the rest to recognize her. The tilt of her chin, the grace in her stride, the steady determination in her gaze—it was her.

And she had never told him.

His mind reeled, dragging him back to sun-bleached decks and salty winds, to nights spent mapping the stars with hands stained in gunpowder.

Two Years Earlier

Nikolai had been Sturmhond then. No crown, no throne, just a ship beneath his feet and freedom in his grasp. He had taken in a new crewmember—a young woman with a sharp tongue and a quicker hand, someone who had slipped into the Volkvolny’s ranks as if she had been born for it.

She had told them her name, told them she could sail, told them she knew her way around a blade.

She had not told them she was noble.

She had not told them she was the daughter of a duke.

He remembered the first time she had impressed him. A storm had raged against the ship, waves lashing at the deck, and while some of the newer sailors clung to the rigging in terror, she had moved with the ease of someone who belonged to the sea.

“Not bad, little sailor,” Nikolai had called over the wind, flashing his trademark grin.

She had shot him a look, breathless but grinning. “Not bad yourself, captain.”

He had liked her then. Liked the way she handled herself in a fight, liked the way she never backed down from his jests. Liked that she didn’t fawn over Sturmhond the way so many others did.

It hadn’t taken long for them to grow close. They spent late nights at the stern, watching the stars, telling stories neither of them had ever dared to share before. He told her of the war, of the impossible task of leading a country that might never love him. She told him of the gilded cage of nobility—though she had never revealed just how high her cage had been built.

“You don’t talk like a noble,” he had mused once after she had stitched up a gash on his arm with practiced efficiency.

She had smiled, something wistful in her eyes. “Maybe that’s because I don’t want to be one.”

And for some time, she wasn’t. She was just Y/N, a sailor, a fighter, someone he trusted with his life. He had never thought to ask more.

Then, one night, she was gone. No warning, no explanation. Just vanished, as if she had never been there at all.

He had searched for her. Saints, he had looked—sent his people digging for information, scanned every port they docked in, asked quiet, careful questions.

But Y/N had disappeared.

Present Day

She was standing before him, dressed in white, her fingers slipping into his like she had never left.

“You,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear.

A small smile touched her lips. “Me.”

Nikolai’s mind raced. ‘Why hadn’t she told him? Why had she left? Had she known who he was all along?’

There would be questions, later—many questions.

But for now, as the priest spoke and the kingdom watched, Nikolai only grinned, tightening his hold on her fingers.

“Well,” he whispered, amusement lacing his voice, “this just got a lot more interesting.”

And Saints, he was thrilled.

[futurecorps3]

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[rorygilmoreclown]

Gonna include this in the Cunk on Ketterdam series. (Although i know this won't be Cunk on Ketterdam exactly)

[kolsmikaelson]

re-entering my shadow and bone era i fear

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

winter fete

nikolai lanatov x reader - winter fete

word count: 650

summary: just a short blurb of nikolai and y/n’s quiet morning before the chaos of the winter fete <3

warnings: manwhore nikolai aka just nikolai

a/n: a little christmas gift to all the nikolai fans

The golden morning light poured into the room, casting a soft glow on the snow-dusted windows and the couple nestled beneath the thick blankets. Y/N was the first to stir, her eyes fluttering open as she stretched lazily against the warmth of Nikolai’s bare chest. His arm tightened instinctively around her, pulling her closer before she could even think of moving.

“You’re awake,” Nikolai murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep.

“So are you,” she replied, smiling softly as she tipped her head to look at him. His hair was an artful mess, and his sleepy grin made her heart flutter.

“Only because I felt you move. You’re far too distracting to sleep through,” he said, leaning down to brush a kiss against her forehead.

Y/N chuckled and settled back into his embrace. “It’s too early for such flattery, Nikolai.”

“It’s never too early to remind you how stunning you are,” he countered, his hand trailing lazily up and down her back.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the quiet warmth of the morning. Nikolai’s fingers traced absent patterns along her skin as she sighed contentedly against him.

Eventually, he shifted, reluctantly sitting up. “As much as I’d like to stay in bed all day, I have something for you.”

“For me?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

He smirked, reaching over to the nightstand where a small velvet box waited. Returning to her side, he opened it with a flourish to reveal a striking ruby necklace nestled in gold.

“Nik…” Her breath hitched as her fingers lightly brushed the pendant.

“It reminded me of you,” he said simply, his voice soft. “Fiery, radiant, impossible to look away from.”

Y/N sat up, allowing him to fasten the necklace around her neck. The ruby sparkled against her skin as his hands lingered at her shoulders. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck before pulling back to admire his handiwork.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her fingers resting over the gemstone.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” Nikolai replied, his lips finding hers in a slow, deliberate kiss.

Her hands slid into his hair as the kiss deepened, his touch sending warmth flooding through her. When they finally broke apart, Nikolai’s lips wandered to her jawline and down to her neck, his kisses slow and deliberate.

“I should warn you,” Y/N murmured, her voice breathy as he continued kissing along her collarbone. “You’re not the only one with a surprise waiting.”

He paused, his lips hovering just above her skin. “Oh?”

“I have something special for you,” she said, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “But you’ll have to wait until tonight.”

Nikolai chuckled, his teeth grazing her skin in playful retaliation. “You’re going to make me suffer through the entire day, aren’t you?”

“Consider it a lesson in patience,” she teased, her fingers toying with the ends of his messy hair.

“You’re wicked,” he murmured against her skin, pressing another kiss just below her ear.

“And yet, you adore me,” she countered with a grin.

His lips curved into a smile against her neck. “More than you know.”

They eventually shifted back into a comfortable embrace, their conversation turning to the evening’s winter fête.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Y/N asked, resting her head against his chest.

“Ready to endure endless small talk and diplomatic niceties?” Nikolai sighed dramatically. “Not particularly.”

“You’ll be brilliant,” she said, running her fingers lightly across his chest. “You always are.”

He tilted her chin up, his gaze warm as he studied her. “As long as you’re by my side, I’ll manage.”

“You know I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she replied softly.

They stayed wrapped up in each other, the ruby around her neck catching the morning light as the snow continued to fall outside. For now, the world could wait.

[maisy1111]

“he smiled against my lips.”

me:

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Femme fatale" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[suggestive themes but nothing explicit]

SUMMARY: When you reveal how you won the suspiciously heavy bag of coins, Nikolai is overwhelmed with anger at the thought of you being intimate with another man. The thing is, he's never told you how he feels about you... until now.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

<I cried on national TV today, I am anything but fine lmao>

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

The bag thuds loudly as you drop it on the nautical maps scattered on Sturmhond’s desk. Tolya, Tamar and the privateer in question suddenly fall silent, their excited chattering put to a halt. Three pairs of eyes glance once at you, once at the big leather pouch.

“Did you rob a bank on your way here?” Nikolai asks. Although framed as a joke, his voice reveals that he’s not exactly discarding this possibility.

“I know that look.” Tolya gives you a half-smile, crossing his arms on his chest. Even if he wasn’t a Heartrender, he’d still be proficient at reading people. “She ripped someone off.”

You shrug and wave your hand in dismissal. “Some whaler, roughly the size of a small elephant, was very eager to spend the night with me. At first I wanted to rip his face off but then I realized that I saw a ship docking around the same time we did, so the whalers must have just gotten their wages. I offered the man that if he can win against me in cards, I’ll let him do whatever he wants to me. He got so excited he didn’t notice the stack of aces up my sleeve.”

Tamar nods her head in acknowledgement. The small smile on her lips betrays a sense of proudness. “Beat him at his own game. I respect that.” It was your and Tamar’s thing - the whole crew probably knows that most commonly known methods of cheating were invented by either of you.

“Thank you very much,” you say as you take back the bag. “But I doubt this is anywhere near close enough to get Hyram to take the nightwatch for me, so I’ll be off.”

“Come on, sister,” Tolya taps Tamar’s arm, “we have things to do as well.”

When your hand pushes down the door handle, you hear Nikiolai calling out your name in a rush. “Stay for a moment,” he asks in a strangely anxious voice. You give the twins a questioning look but they only shrug in response - their previous conversation with their captain never once involved even a mere mention of you.

The door closes with a thud behind Tolya and Tamar. What used to be a lighthearted, friendly atmosphere suddenly turns absolutely uncomfortable and tense. You furrow your eyebrows studying Nikolai’s expression. He looks… angry. Slowly, you stroll towards his desk again but the closer you are to him, the more uneasy you’re feeling. Standing maybe a meter or two away from the table, you suddenly find yourself unable to move forwards as though some force is separating you two.

Nikolai sighs. He shakes his head and looks at you with a fiery glint to his eye. "Are you out of your mind?!"

The sudden loss of composure renders you speechless. "I beg your pardon?" Part of you realizes that this conversation is not going to end quickly, so you drop the bag on the floor next to your leg. Besides, the pouch filled with coins does weigh quite a lot.

"What if you lost?” His voice cuts the tense air like treacherous blades. Those bright eyes aren’t any softer. This outburst is already surprising but considering the details of his appearance, this is already a tempered version of the fury residing in his viscera. “Have you any idea what…” he cuts himself off and sighs again. Nikolai closes his eyes, rubs his face and only then resumes talking. “What could have happened to you?"

"What's up, boss?" you nod upwards at him with furrowed eyebrows. "This isn't the first time I'm conning people out of their money through frankly reckless wagers."

"This is different,” he drones his words.

"How so?” you bite back. His inexplicable irritation is rubbing off on you. “I knew I was going to win. Even if I didn't, by some chance, I would have fought them."

"By yourself?” his voice raises again. You’ve never seen him like this before, only further convincing you that something serious must have broken his patience. But considering your history of relatively legal enrichment, it seems unlikely that it’s this little bet that had set him off. “With whalers that make Tolya look like a spud?”

It’s like dancing. Except he’s clumsy for a man of his agility and keeps stepping on your toes. And just like guests do on weddings, the two of you are pirouetting around the main attraction, naively thinking that the other person will miraculously be enlightened. The orchestra is playing the music and yet the dancing guests refuse to tell each other the name of the song.

"Come on, talk to me,” you coax him impatiently. This… dancing is tiring and there’s still quite a few things you need to do before the crew goes to sleep. “Say the quiet part out loud."

Nikolai hangs his head. You see his shoulders slowly raise and fall - he’s taking a deep breath, calming himself down. He walks around the desk and sits on its edge, leveling his eyes with yours. Something about his expression is changed like Nikolai has discarded the anger in place of defeat or compliance; like the steam that urged him to fight simply run out, returning the level-headed captain to you.

His eyes meticulously study the right-hand side of the room, along with the leather pouch, before he looks at you. "Can I be embarrassingly honest with you?"

You vaguely open your arms in a welcoming manner. "I'm all ears, captain."

Nikolai stares at you with a newfound intensity. The words almost escape him but he forces them back down his throat when he presses his lips tightly together. You see his hands grip the edge of the desk he’s sitting on as though he’s looking for something to ground him or just an outlet for his clearly turbulent emotions. Finally, Nikolai speaks but his voice is uncharacteristically low and somber: "The thought of another man having you makes me want to break this ship into pieces."

A strange tightness in your chest and throat; suffocating warmth sets your tired muscles on fire, its flames temptingly brushing against your starved skin. Then, a moment of defiance and doubt - how can you know he’s serious? That he’s not just saying this to keep you close in case he grows bored or frustrated one day? Privateers, pirates, corsairs, you’re all cut from the same cloth; hungry, money-grabbing, opportunist cloth.

"Another?" you ask. Hopefully Nikolai remains oblivious to the effect his words had on you. "You're making it sound like there's already a man I should be spending my nights with."

"There certainly is a man foolish enough to give everything away for the chance at your affection."

"If he's so desperate,” you begin thoughtfully, your voice low, “why has he never said a word?"

"I'm afraid he might just lose his sanity if you tell him no."

Perhaps it’s your own corporeality or the undisputable vulnerability in his words that makes you forget the distrust and defiance you felt towards this consuming notion. Suddenly, the tension that prevented you from coming closer has disappeared if not shifted to be located behind you, dissuading you from leaving the room. The nervous, thrilling atmosphere is nudging you forward, towards the man sitting a mere meter or two away from you, his eyes boring into you with anticipation. Some devious voice in the back of your head notices the romance in the dim candlelight and steady rocking of the boat traveling the seas.

Your legs, betraying your will, push you towards Nikolai. He straightens his back noticing you walking in his direction, suddenly his muscles flexing and creating tension. No matter how one wishes to look at it, he appears ready, prepared to take action.

"Well,” you shrug slightly, “unless he asks, how can he know it's going to be a no?"

"Better safe than sorry, I suppose,” he answers quietly as though the lack of space between the two of you is pushing down his chest, squashing juvenile vitality out of him.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips. You shake your head in amusement at the atypical uncertainty. "Said the famous privateer Sturmhond, known for his utter lack of bravado."

Then, like you had lifted a curse that clouded the blue sky above his head, Nikolai furrows his eyebrows in a confused expression. "Yes, that doesn't really sound like me, does it?"

"Not in the slightest.” You answer. His lips curve into a smile and you find yourself wallowing in relief at the familiarity of his easy-going, up-beat attitude. “This makes me think that the mysterious admirer simply can not be you."

"When did you become a detective?” he jokes. Whether it’s your lack of straightforward rejection or the fact that you’re steadily getting closer to him, Nikolai’s humor is only improving. “Amuse me. What would I have done?"

"I think…” your voice trails off as you fiddle with the hem of his frock coat, “that you would say something smooth and suave, then have me however you want. And I’d come crawling back every night."

In a quite unprofessional manner, if either of you even thought about that aspect at the moment, his hands slide up your thighs and hips only to rest on the curve of your waist. Then, Nikolai forcibly pulls you closer to him. First you yelp in surprise but soon you hear yourself gasping as his leg brushes against your groin.

A low chuckle leaves his mouth. "That sounds like a yes to me."

You can’t stop yourself from cradling his face, threading your eager fingers through his golden locks. Nikolai’s hot, ragged breath grazes your cheeks when you lean in. His lips are slightly apart, silently begging you to let him indulge in the sweet release of carnal desire. You lean closer to his ear, your voice comes out nearly as a growl:

"I'd say yes even if it's going to be the last thing I'm going to say."

His lips feverishly kiss your jaw and neck. A stifled moan escapes your lips and you swear you can hear Nikolai snickering.

[spideytingley]

my april fic recs!

percy jackson & the olympians

luke castellan

true luck’s kiss by @atlabeth

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

twin beads by @supercutszns

summary: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder.

ACOTAR

azriel

a healer’s touch by @bat-boys

summary: as a healer you meet many people as part of your profession but when you are asked to heal a certain spymaster you are unprepared for the connection that comes with it.

eye of the storm (series) by @thesunloveschips

summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

missed target by @imaginesmai

summary: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

if it all fell by @pellucid-constellations

summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

notice me! by @heartless-tate

summary: Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

love of choice by @writingcroissant

summary: The Cauldron doesn’t always pick wisely when it comes to mates, but even though Azriel isn’t hers, she chooses him.

bluebird (series) by @acourtofwhatthefuck

let me keep you company by @utterlyazriel

summary: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

strings that bind us by @parkerslatte

summary: Y/N owns a small bookstore in Velaris. When she struggles to take her stock in, a handsome stranger approaches her and offers her help. She accepts the help and Y/N insists on making him dinner for his help. Azriel originally denies this but he finds himself eventually saying yes for reasons he doesn’t understand quite yet.

wings by @itsswritten

summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

you don’t get to tell me about sad by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

marvel

bucky barnes

always you, forever by @pellucid-constellations

summary: Bucky wants to take you away from it all. This time, you might just let him. 

dc

clark kent

handyman by @itsrubberbisquit

summary: Clark has been smitten with his accident-prone neighbor for quite some time. She tracks him down to make a familiar request with an unusual ending.

jason todd

four times red hood blushed because of you, and one time jason todd blushed by @mxtantrights

grishaverse

nikolai lanstov

this is me trying by @criminalamnesia

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

dancing with our hands tied by @criminalamnesia

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings

[pr-olvdr]

reblog if you agree