#nikolai lantsov x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

somuchforahobby · 1 month ago

Text

how many secrets can you keep?

Summary: An arranged marriage to everyone's fav tsar

Part 2: crawling back to you Words: 10K Tags: Fluff & angst Warnings: women used as bargain to win wars ? Gifs stolen from: @goatsandgangsters Read on AO3 ******

The Palace was much bigger than you were told. As soon as you stepped off the carriage you were led to what would be your rooms. On the right was a big bed, a sitting area in front of a chimney and a bathroom. At the end of the room there was a door to the balcony.

You stood on the balcony for what felt like hours thinking about all of this. An arranged marriage, a bitter laugh on your lips. Damned your father to have sold you off to Ravka and damned the King for buying you off in exchange for an alliance with Kerch. The irony of it all would drive you crazy.

“It is a nice view” a voice behind startled you. It was a man in ragged and dirty clothes. “Do you ice-skate?” There was a shit eating grin on his handsome face.

“No”

“Perhaps you will learn this winter” he pointed to the lake, “it becomes a ice rink”

“Does the tsar skate?”

His grin turned into a half smile, “he does, or tries to.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend”

“Of who?” You looked him up and down.

“Hopefully yours”

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed to have male friends” you looked at him again, “not that handsome at least” a blush raced to your cheeks.

“Yeah, you should ask your fiancé” The stranger leaned against the balcony, next to you.

“When I meet him” a disdained sight left your mouth, “do you work here?”

“Yes”

“What do you do?”

“A little bit of everything but first and foremost I’m an inventor”

“Of what?”

“Mmmm” he tapped fingers against his mouth, thinking, “ships, aircrafts”

“Are you part of the army?”

“Yes I am”

“Is it true that Ravka has flying ships?”

He laughed, “it is true, I invented them myself”

“The groom is not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!” A beautiful red haired woman shouted from inside of the room. She was wearing a kefta and glaring daggers at the man next to you.

“Your highness.” You bowed your head slightly to him.

“Please don’t.” He took a step forward, his hands raised awkwardly at his sides, uncertain what to do with them. “Please don’t ever do that again, it is just Nikolai.”

You raised your eyes to see him and nodded.

“You can have all the friends you want” he smirked, “none of them will be this handsome anyway”

You nodded, suddenly ashamed of your bolt of honesty.

“Hey” he lifted your face to see him, “we will see a way to make this work.” He gave you a half smile that told you he was not comfortable with this either.

“I am sure we will.” You gave him one of your own, “Nikolai.”

And with that, his smile was complete.

***

The ceremony was beautiful, you had to thank Genya for all the attention to detail in the decorations as well as to your dress. The white and golden gown worthy of fairy tales had been a perfect choice.

You drank and danced with your husband and guests, and although every single member of Nikolai’s court treated you wonderfully, your smile could not quite reach your eyes. There was an unspoken sorrow in your heart, no matter how handsome and kind your husband was, you did not know him and yet you now had to devote your life to him.

You thanked the servant who helped you out of the dress, walked into your joint bedroom in your nightgown and your heart stomping out of your chest.

Your husband was taking off his jewelry when he spotted you through the mirror, a shy smile on his face.

“Hey” he greeted first.

“Hi” you walked to him, “would you like me to call someone to help you?”

“No, thanks. I can do it.” He continued with the buttons on his jacket. Although the gloves made the task much more difficult.

“I can help you, then.” His hands laid nimbly at his sides as your fingers did the work efficiently. “You looked very handsome today.” You complimented, trying to get the conversation flowing.

“Thank you. I must admit I felt quite jealous, I don’t think I could ever look as good as you, my queen.”

Your face flushed at his compliment, quickly finishing with his jacket and taking a step back, looking down.

“Are you alright?”

You figured it was best to be honest about it. “I am nervous, Nikolai. I have never done this and I hope I can, well, please you.” Your face was crimson by the time you finished the sentence, but his’ was puzzled.

“Done what?” His brows furrowed.

“Consummate a marriage.” You looked away in shame.

He scoffed. “Neither have I, I’m afraid this is my first marriage.”

His joke release tension from you, making you smile, “you know what I mean.”

“I do, but you don’t have to worry about that.” His gloved fingers guided your chin to look back at him. “I have no intentions of doing it tonight, or any other night, as long as you do not want it. I do not find your fear desirable.”

A breeze of relief fell on you.

“I asked for your room to be ready for tonight, you can stay there as long as you like. This thing-“ his hand gestured to the space between your bodies, “will take time, and I have no intention in hurrying it.”

“Thank you. But I know why I am here, Nikolai. If this thing” you mirrored his gesture, “doesn’t work, just know I know my duty.”

He contemplated you for a minute before speaking again. “I will not bring a child product of fear and disdain into this world. It would not make a good king.” He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. “Good night, my queen.”

With that, you left his room for the night, grateful that you had not married an ape.

***

“I did not know I had married a little myshka.” Your husband smiled from the door of the library, bringing one to your own face.

“Moi tsar.” You teased, “what a surprise to see you this afternoon.”

He walked to you, hands clasped on his back, looking at the books on the table.

“Ravka’s history and myths.” When you looked up he extended a bouquet of flowers to you. “Thank you!”

“The least I can do for my queen” he sat in front of you, “how are your studies going so far?”

“Good, the life of Saints is a bit confusing, but it is going well.” You took a quick look at your notes, leaving the flowers aside, “Hopefully I can get a good idea soon enough so I can join your court, maybe?”

“Oh” he smiled, “is that what you wish to do?”

“I think so.”

“Why?” He seemed intrigued.

“Well, I was on my way to become a scholar in Ketterdam, I think I could do decent work.”

“I went to College in Ketterdam as well, quite a nice place.”

The declaration surprised you, “Oh? Never saw you there, I think.”

“I doubt we frequented the same places, darling.” He smirked.

“What was your major?”

“Law and politics.”

“Same as me.”

“Yeah but I barely spent any time in classes.”

“Were you a drunken moi tsar?” You teased.

He laughed, “I will not entertain this nonsense of accusation.”

“You were!” You laughed as well. “That is why I never saw you there.”

“You are also younger than me!” He tried to defend himself.

“Just two years, I still could have seen you in some classes.”

He scrunched his nose, “good thing you did not”

“Why?”

“I would have asked you out, of course.”

You scoffed, “I don’t think so”

“Are you joking?” a pretty girl who can do all of my homework? Darling you would have been my number one target.”

It was your turn to laugh, “then good thing you didn’t because I wouldn’t have done your homework.”

He shrugged, “I would have done mine with you, for sure.”

You blushed at his comment, feeling your face warm at the insinuation. “But we did not meet.”

He raised his shoulders, dismissing the missed opportunity.

“So… a law and politics advisor in my council. I like that. Right now it is filled with soldiers, Ravka is in urgent need of a brain there.”

You matched his smile with your own. “I’d be honored.”

His eyes were kind on you, as if he was amazed to hear you want to be part of his life. “Please let me know when you feel ready and or if you have any doubts.” He took a look at his watch and then stood up.

“Nikolai, I do have one question.” He looked back at you tenderly. “What is myshka?”

A sweet smile lightened his face, “mouse, my little library mouse.” He leaned in to kiss the top of your head before leaving you for the day.

***

Time passes so slowly when you are in a trial.

“She bleeds again.” One of you maids said during your second month in the Palace.

“You shouldn’t be running everyday, moi tsaritsa. Your eggs will fall.” the doctor ordered, little did he know you had barely seen your husband.

“It is not her bleeding we should be checking.” Some girl whispered during your breakfast at the patio, while you pointlessly drank all sorts of beverages to ‘help’ your fertility.

“He doesn’t like her because she is not noble” a whisper on your back, “neither is -“ she shut up when you looked.

“Your duty to the Lantsov Dynasty remains” a letter addressed to you from Queen Tatiana was stamped in your brain. You tossed it in the trash when you read it.

“Nikolai wants you to visit the Hospital today and send the ill his regards.” Genya announced with a smile that brought sickness to your mouth at the mere thought that everyone in the Palace knew your husband’s wishes better than you.

Whispers and voices filled your days, until it was nighttime.

Because every night, you had dinner at the quietness of your chambers and then, you would stay awake to listen when your husband came into his room, next door from your own. When he did you counted the steps that accompanied and then waited in the hall to see who and when they left.

Every night your heart sank a little deeper, because every night the same person walked out of his chambers.

And not a single time General Nazyalensky could hold your stare.

***

You were not speaking to him. You were actually avoiding him.

You ran at breakfast time, ate at council time and read in your bedroom. It was not so hard considering he didn't try to find you either and he was away constantly. Away with her, your mind shouted.

A month or so went by since the last time you had seen your husband. Until one night a servant announced the King wanted to have dinner together.

You chose the most beautiful dress in Lantsov blue, simple but elegant, to drag yourself to the dining room. He was already there in his First Army uniform, smirking at you.

“My beautiful wife.” He stood and walked to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips and placing a soft kiss. He helped you in your seat before returning to his. “I missed you, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He complained with tenderness.

You did not answer.

“I just returned from a trip with General Nazyalensky and Count Kirigin, can you believe he is crazy for her?”

You bit down a growl. The audacity of this man, you thought.

“I was hoping you’d join the council soon, how are your studies going?”

You did not answer.

“I am running out of ideas for a conversation here, darling. I think I need your help.” His tone was firm and you finally raised your eyes from your plate to his face.

You sighed, “leave us” The waiters left the room, giving you the much needed privacy. “Perhaps you should ask General Nazyalensky to join you for dinner.”

Every hint of amusement and his signature smirk were gone in an instant. “Why would I?”

“Well if you can’t help to have her in your chambers every night then perhaps you should have dinner with her as well.” Your tone was also firm.

His eyes did not falter, “it is not what you think”

“Then explain it.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me”

“You have my word, dar—”

Your scoff interrupted him. “Nikolai,” your patience thinned, “I would rather you behave like a jerk than keep up the good boy facade while you’re mocking me.”

“Because I am not!”

You covered your face with your hands, it was the lie that hurt the most. “I knew this would happen and I only ask you to be more discreet.” You sighed, keeping your face down, “the whole damn castle talks about it and I am the idiot wife who can’t even do what she was brought to do. I can’t compete with her, Nikolai. She has it all, the beauty, the power, the king’s attention. It’s excruciating.”

“Look at me.” A firm order, your eyes caught his again, only that this time you did not see Nikolai, you were looking at the King. “You do not have to compete with her or anyone else, you are my queen.” His gloved hand captured yours on the table, drawing circles on your skin with his thumb while guiding it to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, “I swear to you, there is no one else, General Nazyalensky is not in my bed. You must believe me. I will do anything for you to believe me.”

“Everything but the truth.”

His heart beat faster. “What can I do to make you trust me? What do you want?”

Tears pricked your eyes, “Your attention.”

“You have it, but now I will make sure you have no doubts about it.” He closed both eyes, then swallowed, defeated. “Would it be ok with you if I paid you a visit every night, and then returned to my rooms?”

“That would be a place to start.”

“Although, the Second Army General will continue to make a brief visit afterwards.”

“Can I be there as well?”

“No.” That was definite. It amazed you how easy he changed from Nikolai to The Tsar.

“This would be easier if you told me the truth.”

An exasperated sigh left his mouth and he stood from his seat, “my word will have to do for now, myshka.”

Removing your hand from his chest, he laid a tender kiss to your knuckles before leaving the room.

***

Later that night he knocked on your door, you opened it widely and he walked all the way to the couch in front of the fireplace. “How was your day?”

You sat next to him, facing the fire, his arm extended on cushions and your shoulders. “It was alright. I have been looking for books or writings about your father’s reign but I haven’t found any.”

His gloved fingers picked a strand of your hair to toy with. “I think I can help you with that, if you’d like?”

“Please.”

“Well, umm” his gaze was lost on your hair, “what would you like to know?”

“Anything a member of your council should know.”

He thought for a minute or two, immersed in your hair, “I do not think he was a good king. All he did was send troops to borders, give power to the darkling and the apparat, I don’t think he cared for the needs of the working class.”

“And do you?”

“Of course. I’d be a fool not to, they’re the only ones who want me to keep my throne.” He gave you a lazy smile.

“Why is it different what your father did with the darkling than what you do with the triumvirate?”

He leaned back, getting more comfortable, as he weighed your question. “Because I am not relying on one person but a council of Grisha, and because they would never do the atrocities the darkling did.”

“Such as?”

“Separating families, sending children to be abused by powerful men, even to the king himself…”

“Nikolai,” you turned your whole body to face him, “that is an awful thing to say about your father.”

He released a hopeless scoff, “good thing I am not.”

Your head leaned to a side at his statement, “so it is true?”

“I am afraid so.”

“Well that is also important information for a political advisor.”

He smirked, “and to my wife.”

“I don’t think she’d care as much as Fjerda.”

“Is that a fact?” He asked playfully.

“A hundred percent.”

He leaned towards you, leaving a kiss on your temple, “That is good to know.” He mumbled against your hair.

“How was your day?”

“Awful.” He looked at the fire. “There are a bunch of people wanting to Sanctify the Darkling and my wife hates me.” He looked at you with what you guessed was some sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t think she hates you.”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at his lips, “no?”

“No. I think she is just insecure.”

“Well she shouldn’t. As a victim myself I would never inflict the pain of lies on someone else.”

“Thank you.” You whispered and his face warmed.

“Trust me, please.”

You simply nodded.

You both sat by the fire for a good while, his arm on your shoulders as you slowly dozed off.

The next morning you woke up in your bed, alone. The other side, as usual, untouched.

***

“It is not up for discussion” one of your maids had said. So now here you were, dressed in a beautiful gown, alone in the balcony while strangers celebrated your Birthday in the saloon.

The leaves on the trees had just started to fall, early signs of the upcoming autumn visible in the palace gardens. The night breeze stirred your arms, making you shiver. A warm jacket fell on your shoulders then, making you turn to find a man standing beside you.

“My apologies, moi tsaritsa. You seemed to be cold.” A tall man with dark hair said. “I am Count Anton Nerenski, your highness.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Count Nerenski.” You turned to the gardens again.

“Beautiful party, I assume that tulips are your favorite?”

Since the whole Palace was filled with them it was a fair assumption, “No. Roses are.”

“Then why haven’t I seen any?” He quipped.

You sighed, “because nobody asked me anything about this damned party.”

“If I had known roses were your favorite I would have brought you a hundred of them.”

You turned to see him, there was tenderness in his eyes, “thank you Count Nerenski.”

“Please, call me Anton.”

You smiled and he matched.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Your Highness, Where is the King?”

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment. He left in the morning and promised to come back before the celebration, yet he had failed his promise. “He is on an important business trip.”

“And how do you feel that he is away?”

Your jaw tightened, your whole body turned to face him, “I do mind your questioning, and I am nothing but proud of the King’s work. As should you.”

“My apologies, your highness. I didn't mean to offend the King.”

“You have spent far too much time on this conversation apologizing, haven’t you?” You pressed.

He scoffed, “I have, and I am further willing to get on my knees if my queen requested so.”

A blush crept your face, understanding the nature of his intentions. “I wish for no such thing.”

“Yet,” his features softened, “but the path you are on is a lonely one, moi tsaritsa, I wish to extend you my friendship if you ever need it.”

You merely looked at him: he was a handsome man, taller than you, his eyes were the color of sapphires, and a full beard filled his face. Black hair fell to his shoulders, which were wide and built like a soldier’s. Was this how your life would be now? Men throwing themselves at you offering an affair to deal with your loneliness?

“Your beauty does not belong to a balcony, moi tsaritsa, you have not danced all night, would you like to change that?” Count Nerenski extended a hand to you.

“As caring as always Anton, but I am afraid I must steal my dashing wife’s first dance.” Nikolai’s voice took you out of your thoughts, your eyes instantly finding him. Your heart swelled on your chest at the sight of him, already taking off his First Army jacket and walking towards you. “I fear other men might try to take her for a swing, forgetting altogether that can be considered treason. Although, I would too forget protocols and loyalties at the sight of her.” Nikolai’s voice was cheerful, yet a slight treat could be found in it.

Nikolai removed Anton’s jacket from your shoulders, replacing it with his own and pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

Anton grabbed his jacket from Nikolai’s hand, “Your Highness” bowed towards both of you and returned to the saloon.

“My savior” you looked up to your husband.

“Would you dance with me?” He offered, his hand lingering on your waist. “I’m afraid I have to remind everyone in this Country who your husband is before they try to steal you from me.”

“Are you jealous, moi tsar?” You teased.

He huffed, “of Count Nerenski? Don’t make me laugh, dear.” His fingers tapped your waist to the rhythm of the background music.

“Then laugh.” You dared, “laugh and take the jealousy off your face.”

“I’d be jealous if you had enjoyed his company.”

“I enjoyed the warmth of his jacket.”

He scoffed, “enjoying another man's warmth, darling please just put a bullet in my head, it would wound me less”

“I am sorry, Nikolai.”

“Don’t be, unless you are actually interested in him?” There was a silent sorrow behind the question.

“I am not.”

“Then I am sorry for not arriving on time.” His gloved hand touched your cheek, you leaned to his palm. “I brought you a gift though.” From the pocket of his pants he pulled a paper and handed it to you. It was a list.

“You bought… nineteen, twentyfiv, THIRTY books?” You looked up to him to find him smiling.

“Well I could not fit them all in my pockets so I figured I’d show you the list. If you want to change them we can go to the bookstore tomorrow morning. The order sails in the afternoon to Ketterdam.”

“Nikolai” tears gathered in your eyes, touched by his present. “You didn’t have to do that, thank you.”

He placed a lock of hair behind your ear, “I might have not known you loved roses but I knew you loved books.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go back in there and give them a nice show, shall we?”

You nodded.

He helped you get your arms through his own jacket, “such a condecorated and beautiful soldier.”

With both hands on your nape, you pulled your hair out of the jacket. “What can I say? I'm a catch.”

He smirked, “of course you are” he guided you towards him with a hand on your waist, pushing your body against his, as you both walked back to the salon.

One of Nikolai’s valets stepped in front of you. “Your Highness, it is against protocol for the Queen to wear a military uniform as it is for the King to have an incomplete one. Also please be aware of the closeness.” The man’s eyes moved between your bodies, clashed together.

“Thank you for your suggestion, Mikhail.” Nikolai pulled you towards the dance floor.

Gasps filled the room when you both bowed before the music started; the King without his jacket and said jacket on his wife’s shoulders must have been a whole show. Anxiety left your body as soon as his hands guided your waist through the waltz.

***

You left the bath in a sheer gown, your hair wet falling on your back after your usual bath post run, and found your husband waiting for you in the same spot he had taken the day before, but instead of toying with your hair, he had one of your books in his hands and his long legs stretched on the couch. At the sight of you he raised his eyes to your body, taking an embarrassing amount of time admiring you before turning away.

“I am sorry I should have-“

You grabbed a robe and pulled it on your shoulders, “that’s fine, you can look now.”

When you saw his face, a faint blush still colored his cheeks.

“How can I be of service, moi tsar?”

He rearranged himself, allowing you to sit on the other side of the couch, nervousness could still be found in him, oddly enough. “I came to ask you to join me at the council today.”

“Yes, sure, when is it?”

He looked at his watch, “In 10 minutes.”

“Oh.” You walked to your wardrobe in a rush, trying to find something to wear.

“Punctuality is important but not mandatory for a queen, myshka. Take your time.” He leaned back and returned his gaze to the book in his hands.

Without Genya or a maid to help you, you put on a dress and dried your hair as much as possible before leaving your chambers with your husband. You had never been to the war room before, and you were just as surprised to see it as the people inside were surprised to see you.

Nikolai held your hand during the entirety of the meeting, drawing circles on your skin with his thumb, what you had now identified as an anxiety tick.

Every time some decision was to be made, he turned to you and asked your opinion, every time you said you’d rather listen this time and every time he announced again you were a political genius to the group. Shy smiles could be spotted between all of them as a blush betrayed you.

Once the meeting was over and everyone had left the room, Nikolai turned to you with the brightest smile you had seen in him yet.

“Thank you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

“Thank you for letting me in. I have so much to learn from all of you.”

“Nonsense.” He hooked your hand on his arm, walking out of the room with you.

***

“I have been wanting to ask you something.” You said after a few minutes of silence.

He nodded, asking you to continue.

“In Ketterdam, there were some places where people had stuff and you could go in and get it for a price.”

His eyebrows furrowed, confused. “Yeah?”

“Every month, my father gave me a certain amount of money for me to be able to get whatever things I wanted.”

Nikolai tilted his head.

“And since I have been here of course I have not yet needed to buy anything, because the Palace has it all.” You started speaking faster, “But I heard there will be an art bazaar downtown and I would like to go. However I do not have any money and I was wondering if maybe you could lend me some?”

“Lend you?” His voice was firm yet confused.

“Yes”

“And how would you pay me back?”

You had not thought about it, “I could send word to my father so—“ his laugh interrupted your rant. He had bent over his stomach laughing while you stared, not sure what was so funny.

“You are the queen of Ravka!” He said between paths, “you do not need to carry money around !” He said it like a dirty word.

“I do not understand?”

He took a long breath to rearrange himself. “You can go downtown whenever you please, you get whatever you want and ask for the tab, then bring it to my valet and forget about it.”

“Oh” you blushed, suddenly ashamed of your question. “And I can do that anywhere?”

“Nearly, yes.”

Now it was your turn to smirk.

“But please measure yourself, do not bring this country to bankruptcy.” He teased.

“You should have thought about that before laughing at your queen!” You teased back.

He sighed and sank deeper into your bedroom’s couch, “either with her beauty or her boldness, but this queen of mine is gonna drive me crazy.”

***

You hugged your legs close to your torso, leaning your face against your knees, watching him as he told you yet another story of his life at Sea. By now the only thing you wish to have done before marrying him was getting to know the notorious Sturmhond.

Nikolai was so passionate about his privateer past, the way he told the tales was so detailed, you could picture them in your head and soon after you could swear you had been there. He talked about Kaz Brekker and the crows, and your mouth opened to know he knew and was friends with your father’s biggest headache, both laughing at the thought of him finding out.

“What do you desire, Nikolai?” You asked after a few minutes of silence and looking at the nostalgia on his face.

“For peace in Ravka.” A well rehearsed answer.

“I asked Nikolai, not the tsar.”

He finally looked at you, “what I desire has no consequence since I am no longer a man but a Sovereign.”

“And if you were just a man again, what would you desire?”

His shoulders dropped with a sigh, “to sleep” he stared at the fire for a long time, then asked, “what would you desire?”

“To hold your hand.”

He grabbed your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before tangling his fingers with yours.

“Without the gloves, Nikolai.”

He did not speak for a while, just looking at your hands intertwined.

“I was cursed by the darkling.”

“I have heard, Korol Rezni.”

He looked back at you with profound sadness in his eyes, “yes, which is why I can not let you see my hands.”

He dropped your hand and stood up abruptly.

“Nikolai, plea—“

“No” again, when he turned it was the Tsar. You kept your place and nodded when he said good night.

***

You had ten people around you, all of them working to get you ready for your agenda of the day. Genya was working on your hair when you realized nobody was working anymore and instead they were bowing. You turned to find Nikolai leant against the door frame, looking at you.

“Moi tsar.” You teased and returned to look at Genya.

“My beautiful wife.” He walked to your line of sight. “Busy day?”

“Yes, I will visit the primary school today.” A bright smile lightened your face.

“By yourself?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Tamar is going with me.”

“Mmmm” he contemplated for a minute, “Tolya will go as well.”

“And what about you?” As much as you appreciated his concern, he could not be left without a bodyguard.

“I’ll be right in front of him the whole time.” He smirked, “if you don’t mind of course?”

You smiled, “I’ll be honored.”

That night you were crying on the balcony when he let himself into your room. The weight of everything you had seen that day was starting to get you.

“Darling?” His voice echoed from your bedroom.

“Over here!” You cleaned your face best as you could hoping he wouldn’t notice, but failed.

“What’s wrong?” There was concern in his voice, “are you hurt?”

You scoffed, “It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

“What’s wrong?” He guided your shoulders to him, then drew your face upwards.

“What we saw today made me a little sad.”

“The school?”

You nodded.

“I don’t think I understand?” His brows furrowed. “I saw children very happy to meet their queen.”

You turned your body towards the garden again, leaning your forearms to the balcony. “I saw boys, mostly. Little girls, that started to be less and less around the age of nine.” A long sigh left your mouth, “they are not in school because they are married, Nikolai.”

“No, that’s”

“What?” You turned to him, his brows were furrowed, he was piecing together a puzzle.

“Illegal” he muttered.

“Just because it’s illegal doesn’t make it undoable.” There was hate in your voice as you said it.

“That is what illegal means.”

“It means nothing if you don’t do anything to stop it!” You tried to regain control over yourself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel for all those girls who will never get to experience their lives because their parents sold them off to the highest bet.”

“Like you.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Panic flooded you, “No! Nikolai, don’t! I am so very lucky to have you!” Your hands landed on his chest, as if you were trying to keep his heart inside.

There was a sad smile on his face as his hands circled yours, “I understand, I often wonder how different my life would be if I had been born a woman, I understand you are upset.”

“Every day I thank the Saints for the luck I have to be your wife, Nikolai. I swear.” You looked him deep in the eye, not a single doubt on your words. “I just grieve for those girls that did not have the luck I had to marry a kind man.”

He kissed both your hands and then held you into a tight hug. “Then good thing you are the queen of Ravka and can change things for them.” He mumbled on your hair.

***

You had taken your reading to the gardens. The Palace was just too much noise, too many people, so many whispers. You laid leaning against a tree, reading the Story of Saints again, trying desperately to distract your mind from the aura surrounding you.

You stared at the Palace from afar, how could a place so beautiful be so obsessed with finding other’s flaws? No doubt why the royals often went crazy.

“I have been looking for you” Nikolai’s voice startled you, making you drop your book from your hands to the floor. He sat next to you on the grass. “What are you doing?”

You did not turn to him, “just reading”

He took the book from the grass and gave it back to you, “Do not let me stop you.”

“Please do, I can’t even focus.”

“mmmm” His arm rounded your shoulders, “come here” You leaned your head on his chest. “Does that have anything to do with my trip to the Fold?”

“Not the trip, really.”

“The crew.”

You shrugged.

“Darling, I beg of you not to listen to that nonsense.” His hands moved up and down your arm. “It’s not easy when people laugh around me.”

“You could have them hanged for treason, you know?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, that would make me a very beloved queen.”

He sighed, with his free hand, he guided your chin upward to face him, “Then let’s issue a statement.” There was a sassy smirk on his face.

“A statement?”

His eyes fell from your own to your lips briefly, “yeah.”

“what would it say?”

“Have dinner with me today, I’ll send Genya to your room to have you ready at 7.”

You just stared at him, not sure what to say nor what to think.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can say no to you moi tsar.” a shy smile threaded on your lips.

“For the sake of my intentions I’mma say that is correct.”

After a romantic dinner in the garden, he walked you to the main saloon.

When the door opened your mouth did as well. The whole floor was filled with short little candles.

You turned to see him in awe and he merely shrugged like it was nothing. A runway leading from the door to the center was lit by larger ones, where a wide circle was also free of fire. He walked with you through it and once you were in the middle of the room, a quartet of musicians started to play a waltz.

“Would you honor me a dance?” He offered his hand and you nodded.

He grabbed your waist in a heartbeat, like if your body called to him. Your hand on his chest felt meant to be. He swayed you like a doll, like a well rehearsed play. His signature smirk was permanent on his face.

“What is this, Nikolai?” You asked, blushed.

He made you swirl and you caught servants looking from the balconies above.

He shrugged, “a statement.” He leaned to your shoulder, his lips gracing your skin, “may I?”

“I don’t think I can say no to you, can I?”

You felt him smile, “I don’t think you can, no.” He mumbled before leaving a path of chaste kisses on your exposed shoulder.

“Nikolai”

“Mmm?” He mumbled against your skin.

“What does this statement say?”

He raised his head to see you, a gilded smile on his face, “that the King of Ravka is head over heels for his wife and that he would do anything to show her how he feels.”

“And is it true?”

His forehead leaned on yours, not granting you an answer.

“Nikolai?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Like it was an order, his lips found yours immediately. He guided your hand to his neck and his arms moved to circle your waist, his lips evolved into a soft, romantic kiss. He was tender, kind, his lips were begging you for more in the kindest of ways.

Your chest tightened in desire, and you could feel the thread where his control was hanging, you pulled back to regain yourself, leaning against him again.

His breath was agitated, but so was yours, he stole a short kiss and then continued his path on your shoulder.

A few waltz later, he guided you to your room. apologizing for not being able to stay any longer, He went into his chambers and soon after you heard someone else walk by.

The next morning he was gone before sunrise, but your room dawned with a bouquet of fresh roses and a goodbye note from him.

***

Protocols aside, you nearly jumped to hug him when he finally returned. You heard his chest rumble with giggles as he wrapped his arms around you, “Did you miss me, moi tsaritsa?” He whispered in your ear.

Pushing away you answered, looking up to him, “Greatly.”

His eyes were fixed on your lips, “May I kiss you? You know, so everyone sees it.”

“You may.”

He leaned down to kiss you, a soft yet needy kiss for every witness to see how much the King had missed his wife; the tenderness of a devoted husband along with the urgent need of a man. It was a display, yet your heart had not gotten the memo, since it was stomping out of your chest.

He pulled away first, his eyelashes fluttering against your brow, his breath hitching your face.

“I missed you too.” He said before kissing the top of your nose and finally taking a step back.

***

Since he returned, he made it his personal goal to kiss you whenever you were surrounded by other people, he had even said so the first time he did. You found him as you walked out of the library towards the garden, he was leaving his study with the council, and the second he saw you his hands cradled your face and kissed you briefly, for then tilt his head sideways and deepen the kiss. When he pulled away you saw everyone around you was flushed and trying to look away, except for Genya who had a genuine smile on her face. Nikolai then winked at you, and continued his path.

***

When he was focused he would not even look at you. Sitting on his desk and with a thousand papers in front of him, his eyes were reading page after page, immersed in paperwork about the year expenses and needs, you knew this was your chance.

You walked to his desk, until your thighs graced his forearms. Almost instinctively, his hand landed near your hip.

“Yes, love?” He asked, not raising his eyes.

“Nikolai, could you please sign this?” You put the paper in front of him, without hesitation he drew a signature on the bottom of the page and continued his reading.

You bent down and kissed his cheek then started your path out of his office.

“Darling” he called when you were near the door.

“Yes?” You turned with feigned innocence on your face.

“What did I sign?” There was a small smirk on his lips and light amusement in his eyes.

You smiled playfully, “A law.”

“Oh?” His smirk grew. “About what?”

You returned to his side and gave him the paper, he took it with a playful smirk and read it.

“Mandatory school for girls?” He looked up to you.

You nodded.

He stood from his chair, taking you in his arms. He smelled like woods, like sea, like fire, like freedom and class, like a prince from a fairytale. your arms wrapped around his waist briefly before he let you go. “Please see it published first thing in the morning.”

He sat again but his gaze remained fixed on you, a mix of admiration and fondness emanating from him. “And please keep doing this.”

“That you can be certain of.”

“Darling” his hand hovered above your knee, he was not touching you but you could feel the warmth of his skin even through the gloves and the heavy fabric of your dress. He looked up tenderly, “I have plenty of work to catch up tonight, I’d recommend you to get some sleep, I don’t think I can join you today.”

“I understand.” You bit your lower lip and turned to leave the room.

“Think of how you want me to make it up to you.”

You turned to see him again, there was a boyish smirk on his face, and you matched with your own. “I already know.”

“And what do you want, moi tsaritsa?”

“I want you to take me on a date outside the Palace, I want to see Ravka.”

His brows lifted in surprise, a shadow crossed his face.

“Have I offended you in any way?”

He sighed, leaning back on his chair, “not in the slightest. I find it disappointing that I have not done my job courting you properly and I apologize for that.”

“A king does not need to court, your highness.” You teased.

“Not out of need, but of desire. The day I met you I promised you we would make this work, I intended to make it so by courting you and hopefully making you fall in love with me, and look at us: you have to beg me to spend time with you.”

You walked to his desk, a playful smile on your face, “I have not begged yet.”

That brought a slight blush to his cheeks. He placed both elbows on the desk, his gaze intensifying on you “and I am certain you’d look delightful but if I am to make you beg it won’t be for time.” Now it was your turn to blush. “I will take you out on a date, the day after tomorrow. I’ll send you something to wear.”

“You already know where we are going?”

His smirk deepend, “I always have.”

You bit your lower lip to hide your smile and nodded once before leaving the room.

For about fifteen minutes you considered going to Tolya since you felt your heart was leaving your chest right away.

***

Nikolai spent the day submerged in meetings, from one room to another, you heard people passing by all day as you were in the library, which is why you were not expecting him that night. You guessed he was either too tired or still too busy to come to your rooms, and given you were almost certain your hand was injured from all the writing you had done, you made yourself comfortable and dipped your strained hand in a bucket of warm water. That’s how he found you, sitting on the couch, in your spot, with your hand up to the elbow in water while you calmly looked at the fire.

“Are you alright?”

You turned to him with surprise on your face, “Nikolai”

He walked to you, looking at your hand, then repeated himself, “are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that I wrote too much today.”

He grabbed a towel and sat next to you, taking your hand out the water and drying it before massaging it softly. “Was it another Law?” With a raised brow he lifted his gaze to you.

You merely shrugged.

“I appreciate your service but not to this point, myshka. Your wellbeing is this country’s priority, do not forget that.”

You pouted at his scorn, leaning against his shoulder. “How was your day?” Your voice was dipping in tenderness.

He sighed, “exhausting” he kissed your hand before extending an arm on your shoulders, you rearranged yourself on his chest. “As much as I wanted to come home to read in the gardens with my wife, a lot happened while I was away that required my attention.”

“Your wife requires your attention as well.”

A dark smirk formed on his lips, “she does?” He shifted, from being relaxed against the couch to sitting straight with his body angled towards yours, a hunter lurking his prey, “And how can I oblige to her needs?”

“Take a wild guess”

“I fear I might take one that turns out to be too wild.” His gaze was fixed on your lips.

“And?”

“Might scare you off”

“Impossible”

He let out a scoff, “Sturmhond would say that you mean improbable.”

“Oh? I wonder what the notorious privateer would do in this situation?” You teased.

An amused sigh left his mouth, “things that are far too scandalous to be even mentioned in front of a queen.”

“I’d suggest not to say them and just do them, then.”

“Even worse.”

“Ummm” you feigned deception, “too bad, I would have loved to meet the guy. I heard he has quite a reputation.”

“Really?” Nikolai’s ego shone through his smile.

“Oh, yes. I’d like to know if what I have heard turns out to be true.” You laid on your back, him following closely.

“And what have you heard?”

“Things that are far too scandalous to be even mentioned in front of a King.”

He was practically on top of you know, his lips roaming yours.

“Then it is probably true.” He was practically on top of you now, his face millimeters above yours. “Please tell me what you want, love.” A jolt of honesty and vulnerability dominated his eyes, pulling the lust and desire away to accommodate your needs first.

“You, Nikolai.”

“Nobody is watching now.”

It screwed your brains that he might think you only wanted him when you could be seen. One of your brows lifted in a challenge, “Then do your worst.”

His lips crashed against yours, but this time his tempo was slow and cautious, not a hint of urgency and need, but a patient lover with all the time in the world. Your hands rounded his neck and his’ supported him while cradling your face.

His legs moved in between yours, applying light pressure in your core with his hips, earning a muffled moan from your lips. He pulled away, his eyes dark with desire and mouth open with adoration. “Tell me what you want”

“I can not move further without the touch of your hand, Nikolai, please.”

A half smile crossed his lips, “you truly are a delight begging” his sight roamed your face, “close your eyes” a firm order, you obliged.

Rough and cold fingers wrapped around your hand, lifting it over your head, while the other set touched your face lightly, you could feel all calluses and scars roaming your cheek, then your neck, and after a brief lack of touch, climbing up your ankle.

“Nikolai” you moaned.

“Shh” he let go of your hand to touch your lips with his thumb, “you’re so soft” you could hear him near, the pressure on your core harder every second. He pushed his thumb in your mouth, a weird taste of charcoal in your tongue as you licked it, he groaned in your ear, “can’t wait to feel more of you” his hand finally stopped on your hip, pulling his thumb out and resuming his kiss. His hands were still cold, but somehow made you feel even warmer.

He was toying with your undergarments, cold fingers stretching the soft fabric and touching all around, except where you needed him the most. You wondered how it might be, cold fingers against your hot core, and it made you dizzier.

It was becoming too much: the warmth of the chimney, his body on top of you and the coldness of his hands. You wanted to scream, to beg him to please take you now, but you could only continue under his torturous pace, kissing him back, your hands roaming his chest and making a mess of his hair, pulling his curls out of its perfect place. A gentle tug of his hair earned you a groan, which nearly pushed you off the edge.

“Can I take these off?” He tugged your undergarments, panting.

“Yes.”

“Beg” he said in your ear.

“Nikolai, please.”

“That is not begging.”

“Nikolai, I beg you to take them off.”

“That’s my girl” he bit your ear while pulling the fabric.

A loud knock made you open your eyes abruptly to see him hide his hands from your sight “close your eyes” he instructed.

You heard the sound of fabric, steps and a door open. “Nikolai” General Nazyalensky’s voice filled the room, “We received correspondence from the Termite, there are Fjerdan troops marching south. The council is waiting for you in the war room.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes”

The door closed and he was back in your eyesight. He sat between your legs again, admiring you for a minute.

“Care to continue?” You teased.

“We’ll have to put a raincheck on that” He said and you blushed at his blunt rejection, turning your face away from him. Suddenly he was on top of you again, his now gloved hands guiding your face towards his’, “because I only have a couple minutes and with you I need so much more than that, myshka.” He kissed you deeply again, it felt like a natural thing now. “Get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning for our date.” He stood up, extending a hand to help you do the same. You took it.

“Don’t you have a war to attend?”

“It will have to wait for another day.” With that he kissed you again before rearranging himself and leaving with a flirty wink.

***

The smell of flowers woke you up. When your eyes opened you realized your room was filled with roses of all colors. On every surface of the room there was a thick bouquet and on the nightstand a note that read

I am not sure if they are a hundred, but I brought you all the roses of Ravka.

-Nik.

There were more than a hundred, for sure. You stood on your tiptoes, careful not to kick any, as you inspected every single vase, each one had a card sending you regards from the flower shop, each of them further away than the other. How had Nikolai gathered them all this morning, you had no clue.

Minutes later one of Nikolai’s valets left a box with clothes in it. After you changed into them, a plain white shirt, trousers and boots, you met your husband in the dais of the main stairs.

“Dashing as ever” His signature smirk greeted you.

His outfit was similar to yours, way too simple for a king. He escorted you out and towards the lake, where you found a ship.

“Am I meeting Sturmhond today?” You asked with a smile.

“Maybe”

He helped you on the ship, and after putting on a green jacket, he instructed the squallers as the ship caught the air and rose.

A gasp left your mouth in terror and your husband was at your side in an instant, holding you close to him. For a while there was only him, your face buried on his chest, his smell grounding you. Then everything was calm again, and softly he pulled away and guided you to the bow, one hand on your waist and one on the railing.

“You wanted to see Ravka… I thought to show you your whole kingdom.”

Out of words, you explored the frozen woods of the North and the border with Fjerda; the vastness of the city of Os Alta, the desert on what used to be the Fold, all the cultures and colors of the southern cities, the clarity of the shore. All the while Nikolai whispered stories in your ear, his chest pressed against your back and his hands on your waist.

You ate at Os Kervo, where you both had to be tailored to go undercover, his now ginger hair bouncing free.

You stood on the docks, looking at the sea.

“Missing home?” His chin leaned against your shoulder.

“You are my home now, Nikolai.”

He turned you and kissed you fiercely. There, in the docks of Os Kervo, tailored away from your royal faces, you were just two idiots in love. No protocols to respect or whispers to feed; just two lovers intertwined, hypnotized by their most animalistic needs of each other. Sturmhond took risks Nikolai wouldn’t; like pulling your hair and letting his fingers dig your skin, biting your lips and tasting your tongue, he pulled muffled moans out of you like a child takes cookies out of a jar. Your knees buckled, but his strong arms were there to hold you and continue his quest. When he was done, he leaned your foreheads together, gasping for air.

“Such a conqueror” you whispered, panting.

“And I am not done yet.” His threat made your legs weak again.

You barely kept your hands off each other on the way back, but your control was completely lost as soon as you arrived at the Palace.

Your legs were on his hips, and his hands supporting them as you both walked in, the welcoming party waiting for you quickly dissipated as he carried you up the stairs and to your bedroom.

He pushed you against the wall, and once the door was closed and secured, he carried you to the bed.

“Careful with my roses” you teased.

“I’ll plant you a whole new garden”

His body was pressed on yours, both of you working on taking your clothes off. You pushed him making land on his back, straddling him, his naked torso to your bare chest.

“No objection to that” a lopsided grin on his face

You took his hands, touching the fabric of his gloves, your eyes kindly asking for permission. His breath was ragged when he nodded.

Softly, you pulled the fabric from each finger, making them loose enough to pull out the right hand first. His eyes were closed, defeated, ashamed, as you completely removed both gloves. You laid a wet kiss on each one before kissing his palms and then moved to intertwine your fingers to his. They were black and cold, different, for sure, but not worth hiding and definitely better than those stupid gloves.

“Nikolai”

“Mmm” his eyes remained closed, his chest to yours while you sat on his lap.

“touch me”

“I don’t want the darkling’s curse on you.”

“Please”

“Are you not” he swallowed, “disgusted?”

“Not in the slightest”

He finally touched your face, his palm on your cheek felt cold but you leaned to his touch nonetheless.

“Does your night visitator have anything to do with this?”

Nikolai’s head fell forward in shame, “yes”

He remained silent as you pampered his face with kisses, falling back on the bed but now with a defeated aura.

“The darkling turned me into a monster”

“Don’t say that” your head was on his chest, your whole body wrapped on his.

“I wish this was a theatricality, love” You looked at him tenderly. “He literally turned me into a monster, Alina saved me or so I believed, when she destroyed the Fold. But the monster is still in me, it comes back at night sometimes. That is why Zoya chains me to bed every night.”

Your gasp broke his heart in a million pieces.

“That is why I do not sleep with you, I am afraid I might hurt you, kill you, while I am that damned monster.”

You took his hands and guided them to your waist, the cold of his fingers giving you chills. Softly, you left a trail of wet kisses on his ear, his neck, until he undoubtedly lost himself in you again.

The weight of his arm on your waist dulled you to the deepest, coziest sleep you have ever had, until a metallic clac woke you up. There was a slim figure standing on the foot of your bed, as you blinked the darkness away you realized it was Zoya toying with a set of keys. Her beautiful face was pursed, at least she was not enjoying this.

“I am sorry, I must take Nikolai to his rooms.” She whispered.

Nikolai moved next to you, his fingers wrapping on your waist as he laid sleepy kisses on your shoulder. “Mmmm?” He mumbled deep in sleep.

“He is asleep, he won’t turn into a monster tonight.”

“We do not know that, Your Majesty.”

“Zoya?” Nikolai asked, blinking.

“I will be waiting in your rooms, Nikolai.” She turned to you, “good night, moi tsaritsa.”

“I’ll go with you.” You turned to him.

Your husband got to his feet, buttoning his shirt, “No.”

“Nikolai”

He kissed your forehead and left.

***

Nikolai knocked on your door every night for five nights, not a single one you opened.

***

“I know we are not on speaking terms” Nikolai spoke from the other side of the desk where you had spent your afternoon.

You did not look up to him.

“But I have a gift for you.”

You raised your eyes to him, sneering.

“Ouch”

“A gift does not change anything, Nikolai.”

“I do not expect it to.”

You raised one eyebrow, insting him to continue.

He flexed his fingers and a man carrying a machine entered, placing the machine in front of you. It took you a few minutes to see it: it had … buttons? with the alphabet, although it was not in order. It had two rollers behind the alphabet and a paper sheet in between.

“It is a typing machine” he leaned near you to explain, “you can use this to type the laws instead of writing them down by hand and hurting yourself.”

Your eyes were glued on the machine. “Where did you get it?”

“I built it”

You raised your eyes to him again, but this time they were filled with wonder and admiration. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, love” he said looking at the machine, but you knew he wasn’t referring only to it, “everything I do, I do it aiming for that.”

With that, he left the library, leaving you and your typing machine alone.

***

That night he knocked on your door once again, but this time you opened, leaning against the frame, opening just enough for your body to fit.

“Yes, Moi Tsar?”

“I…” he swallowed, “was wondering if I could join you for a moment?”

“You can join me for the night or not at all.”

His eyes closed in annoyance, “love you are taking this too far now”

“Am I? Or am I merely demanding my husband to trust me half as much as he trusts his soldiers?”

He faced the floor, exasperated. “As much as I hate to say this: they are replaceable. You are not.”

A scoff, “I’ll make you wish I was, Nikolai.”

With that you closed the door on his face.

#grishaverse #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #arranged marriage

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littlest-w01f · 5 months ago

Text

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.

#grisha trilogy #grishaverse x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai smut #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #sturmhond #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x reader smut

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corpsebasil · 2 years ago

Text

Just Friends 18+

You could not. Stop. Laughing.

You tripped over the edge of the couch and squeaked, almost hitting the floor before Nikolai wrapped an arm around your waist, catching you easily. Your husband fought for breath as well; you didn’t even remember what the hell he’d said that was so funny. And then you did.

A courtier during dinner had remarked on how cute the two of you were. You’d gave Nikolai the most aggressive side eye of your life, and he barely clamped down a laugh before winking at you.

“My wife outshines me, I’m sure.” He drawled, reaching over to twine his fingers with your own.

“She’s beautiful, yes.” The courtier smiled, pleased with his attention, and then looked to you, raising her delicate brows. “If it’s not too intrusive, will the court be expecting any princesses or princes soon?”

You’d coughed, choking on your wine at the prospect. You and Nikolai were a political alliance, arranged since you two were children; you had the chemistry of a science lab, unfortunately, but it only resulted in him being your closest friend and the easiest man to tease of your life.

“Oh yes.” Nikolai gave you the side eye this time, silently urging you to play the part. And then his next comment made your face go completely red. “Between you and me, I plan on bedding her as soon as this dinner is finished.”

You kicked his leg under the table, shooting him a look, and the courtier blushed madly.

“Oh my, that’s—” she blinked with embarrassment and found her napkin suddenly extremely interesting, giving up on a civilized conversation with the king.

So now the two of you were in your rooms, both still hot with amusement at how shamelessly he’d lied to the courtier.

“You’re a bastard.” You gasped, jumping away to head to the bedroom. He followed, still grinning, and watched as you set your crown on the side table like it was a watch, tugging at the laces on the back of your dress. “Shit, can you—”

“Yep.” His fingers found your stays as he undid them, used to having done this for you before. He’d had no idea how difficult women’s dresses were before he’d married you, watching you hop around in vain, reaching for strings just out of grasp. “And technically, sweetheart, I am a bastard.”

“If you’re a bastard I’m a usurper.” You groaned out loud when the corset finally loosened, allowing you to get a proper damn breath for once. “You’re as illegitimate as I am. Besides,” you turned and raised a brow, reaching out to unbutton the first few clasps of his shirt. “all monarchy is kind of illegitimate, don’t you think?”

“I love it when we think the same.”

You smiled as you worked, your hands lingering on the smooth material of his shirt as your eyes drank in the smooth, golden skin of his chest. You felt briefly distracted, fingertips reaching out to touch him, just a soft graze, before you sucked in a breath and whirled around.

“I’m running a bath.” You said, cheeks warming all over again, ignoring the feel of his curious eyes on your back.

The water warmed quickly, the large claw-footed tub spacious enough that you could sprawl out completely inside the thing. You added soaps and oils, turning the water milky white, then for fun added a couple of dried petals you saw in your shared bath-cabinet.

“Nik?” You called into the livingroom as you tied your hair up, clipping it into a pile of curls on the top of your head. “Could you get us a nightcap?”

You heard his noise of agreement as you stepped out of your clothes, slipping one dainty foot and then the other into the water. You sighed as you sank down into the warmth, the water reaching just above your chest as you pulled your knees up and wrapped your arms around them.

You heard Nikolai’s feet on the tile as he came into the bathroom, handing you a glass.

“What’s with you and your fancy baths?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the tub with a raised brow. He’d finished unbuttoning his shirt completely and it hung open, a clear view of his ridiculously chiseled top half on display. You ignored the sight and took a long sip of your drink.

“Better than roughing it with a garden hose and a three-in-one body wash like you and your men do in your war camps.”

Your husband laughed and shook his head slightly, agreeing wholeheartedly with you.

“That water hose is dangerous.” He confided, eyes widening comically. “Especially when the water pressure is too high. Could take your skin off.”

You giggled, setting your glass down beside the tub as you propped your elbows on your knees. His eyes wandered over your exposed skin, never lingering for too long anywhere, but you still felt the weight of his stare like an invisible hand.

“How come you’ve never tried to make a move on me?” You asked, brave only because of the drink, and his smirk was only half-hearted.

“I don’t take shots I think I’m going to miss, Y/N.”

Your smile was cautious as you reached out, grasping his hand. And then your expression turned wicked, and he barely had time to set his drink down, already protesting, before you yanked him into the tub. Your laugh was booming and, in Nikolai’s opinion, completely diabolical, as he wiped water from his eyes while he adjusted his back against the opposite side of the tub, his clothes completely soaked.

“You,” he said, jabbing an irritated finger, “are the bane of my existence. I swear on every Saint that you are.”

“You love me.” You teased, grinning fiendishly, but your heart skipped a beat when his expression seemed to soften, his eyeroll too late to save the moment of vulnerability. “You’re not going to miss, Nik. If you try it.” You added, scanning his face, and his smile grew mischievous.

“No?” He asked, voice low, but his eyes darkened when you moved forward, coming over to straddle his lap in the water. Your upper half was completely bare to him, your breath catching when his hands slid around your waist, running soft touches against your skin. “Y/N,” he swallowed roughly. “if we’re still joking, it ends here. Because,” he shook his head, still examining your naked torso. “Saints.”

“Still the bane of your existence?” You asked, voice quiet, as you slipped your hands around his neck and kissed him as soft as you dared.

You both seemed to inhale at the same time, his arms gripping you tighter as your heart dropped into your stomach. He was your friend, your best friend but—you were also married to the man. Surely that entitled some sorts of…physical benefits.

“That courtier doesn’t even know you weren’t lying.” You smiled a bit arrogantly, pulling back to shove his sodden shirt off of him. It hit the tile next to the tub in a wet splat, and both your heads turned at the sound.

“We’ll get it later.” Nikolai promised, and then grasped your face in his hands, kissing you hard. He let out a small noise of pleasure against your mouth and, when his tongue brushed your lips, you let him in.

Your eyes practically rolled back when he grounded you down into him, and suddenly he was way too clothed for your liking. The water sloshed as you pulled away and reached down, yanking at his trousers.

“This would’ve been much more convenient, darling, if you would’ve asked me to get naked before I got in the water.”

“Just—” you huffed in annoyance but finally got them down his hips, and he lifted you up for a moment as he pulled them off, the soaked clothing joining his shirt with another comical splat.

You both laughed, then, at the ridiculousness, but your laughter quickly died in your throat when he scooped you back up into his lap and began kissing your neck, his other hand moving lower, and lower. You gasped when he nipped your skin in the same moment he ran his fingers across you, then slid inside, curling gently as he hit the spot that made your stomach drop.

“You taste oddly floral.” He mused, running his tongue over your skin as he lazily fucked you with his fingers.

“Oh my god, Nik.” You whispered, slipping a hand into his hair to wrap around the blond curls.

“Yes, wife?”

“I want you.”

“Where? Tell me, love.”

You glanced down at him and gave him an annoyed look that faltered the second his fingers curled again, making your breaths heave in your chest. So you leaned into him, kissing him deeply before you spoke.

“I want you inside me.” You said against his mouth, and when you pulled away his eyes were so lust filled that the pang of desire that rushed through you would’ve knocked you on your ass had you been standing.

Nikolai didn’t say a word, only removed his hand and guided you further up over him, and you sank down on him in a smooth motion that made your head spin. He let out a gasping noise and gripped your waist, both of you struggling to breathe through the pleasure.

“You feel—” his voice was so hoarse and low you got chills. “shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and slipped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips against his.

The water wasn’t nearly as warm as your skin as he thrust up, tugging your hips down to meet him every time. Your face pressed against his shoulder, your breathing ragged, and then you squeaked when he stood up suddenly, sending water sloshing onto the floor.

“Nik!” You yelped, even as your legs wrapped around his waist, changing the angle to a new, burning one. He kissed you as he walked, exiting the bathroom, ignoring your giggling protests as the both of you got water all over the floor. “Nikolai stop it you’re soaking the floor.”

“We’re soaking the floor, love. And the couch.”

“The—?” Your words were cut off when he laid you on top of the couch, settling back into you, snapping his hips against your own so hard you gasped, almost knocking your head against the arm of the couch. “Nikolai—”

“Fuck.” He groaned, burying his face in your neck as you took him, every inch of his gorgeous body pressed tight against yours.

You inhaled sharply when the sudden coil of pleasure, building so fast you’d hardly sensed it, snapped, and you let out a cry as he held you tighter to him, not letting you move an inch. He let out a soft moan against your skin and shuddered, the both of you trembling as you came down from the high. And then he was scooping you back up, into his lap, your breathing shallow as your heart raced in your chest.

“So,” Nikolai’s chest rose and fell quickly, his hands sliding up your bare, still wet back as his eyes studied your flushed face. “should I consider this a one time thing, or—”

You cut him off with a bruising kiss, your chest warm with an emotion you couldn’t place, especially when he kissed you back, a hand slipping into your wet hair and undoing the clip that held it up. As it tumbled around your shoulders he smiled softly, running his fingers through the strands.

“You’ve got gorgeous hair, you know that?” He said, tone almost contemplative, even as you blushed. His lips found your own again, soft and sweet, before he lifted you again, this time headed to your bed.

“Oh no,” you protested, grabbing the doorframe as you passed, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. “we are not getting in bed wet. I refuse.”

“Whatever the lady wants.” Nikolai sighed, setting you down and heading off to get towels.

You watched him go, fighting an internal squeal as you realized exactly what you’d just done. And holy gods the man knew what he was doing when he made love. You grinned involuntarily as your eyes landed on your crown, even though you knew he’d tease you mercilessly if he saw what a girlish mess you’d become after he’d kissed and—

“Y/N?” You almost jumped out of your skin at his sudden words, spinning around to snatch a towel from him. His eyes glimmered with amusement, raising an eyebrow. “Daydreaming about me?”

“Of course not.” You lied, drying off and slipping a nightgown over your head. “I was thinking about chocolate. It’s very delicious.”

“Want me to get you some?” He offered, still amused, and you rolled your eyes.

“No. Now get in bed so I can kiss you again.”

His laughter was cut off by your mouth when you turned the lights off and practically pounced on him, his body warm and perfect against your own. You kissed for a while, just kissing, learning each other all over again as his hands ran over your skin, yours in his hair and grasping the back of his neck.

And the next morning, when a maid came in to bring tea and saw the absolute mess you two had made, water drying on the tiles and your sodden clothes by the still full tub, she blushed profusely and quickly left, not bothering to wait for dismissal.

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #smut #nikolai lantsov smut

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igotanidea · 3 months ago

Text

Love language : multifandom imagine

(this is multifandom, feel free to imagine whoever male character you like).

***

She never considered herself a person who would express love through touch.

Quality time, acts of service, gift giving? Yes, absolutely, in that particular order.

But the touch was always last, almost forgotten, if not neglected.

And then he came into her life.

And suddenly it was like her world turned upside down.

Suddenly, all she waited for, for the entire day was coming home from work, snuggling next to him, on the couch or – if it was a long day and they both got lucky enough to be home – into the bed – tracing patters on his biceps, on his chest, on his abs. Everywhere she could reach. Snuggling close to the point she was almost suffocating him with the affectionate behavior.

All she could dream about was the feel of his skin against her, of the warmth, of the safety of his embrace.

Suddently, there was no shame in falling on top of him, with hands spread on each of his side, so she could sense his every move, know exactly how his muscles were flexing when he was squirming.

Funny how things turn out.

#dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #peter parker x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #thomas shelby x reader

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muxshwriting · 6 months ago

Text

bloody rags and white flags

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

summary: being a spy for the crown had some occupational hazards, but those hazards aren't meant to stay with you when you're home || warnings: blood, light gore, mentions of fighting, mentions of murder, language || word count: 1136 || masterlist

Nikolai loved being King. He helped his people in ways he could not before, in ways no one had before. But he also hated being King. He hated the power it gave him, he hated how it made him separate to everyone else again. All he wanted was to lie in bed with his love by his side, but that could prove impossible.

Yet again Nikolai was reminded of something his brother had told him. "This country gets you in the end, brother. don't forget it." And Ravka had got him. You were heading off West, far away from Nikolai and their home. He longed for you, wished you were home but knew you had to be apart. You had duties, just as Nikolai did.

"Long may you reign Moi Tsar." You lowered yourself onto a knee and laid your dagger on the floor in front of you. It was the same thing you had done for his father, declaring your loyalty and swearing your life for his.

But Nikolai wanted nothing more than to pick you up and throw your stupid dagger away. He did not need her to be a humble servant to a king. He did not need to be king. He wanted to spend the rest of his days sailing on a ship and adventuring around the world. He wanted to meet a pretty girl in a tavern, like they had first met and he wanted to be happy.

He did not want you on your knees like this. He wanted you beside him.

"You're all dismissed." Everyone else in the room begins to filter out. You stand, retrieving your dagger and following everyone else out. "Not you."

You waited until everyone had left before speaking. "Nikolai... I have to go."

"No you don't." Nikolai whispered, his eyes pooling with tears. "You could stay here. You could stay with me."

Your eyes mirrored Nikolai's, shining like stars from your unshed tears. You slowly shake your head and went to turn away. "Look Nik, I have to go on this mission. Ravka needs this. There's no one else who can do what I can do."

Your was almost out the door when Nikolai found his voice once more. "How long?"

"I don't know."

It's six months later when Nikolai is informed that you've returned. Everyone at the palace knew what was going on between you two, it was everything except official. He let you submit your reports, signing off on what was needed before approaching you.

"Your blood?" Nikolai asked quietly.

You hadn't expected Nikolai to be awake at this hour of night, let alone use his time to come and see you. It had been too long to imagine that nothing had changed. Your head dropped as you sighed. "I didn't think you'd be awake."

"Your blood?" He asked again, ignoring your previous statement. He's referring to the splatters and darker spots on your clothes.

"No." You're not entirely sure but you don't think it's yours.

The fire was still glowing and the candles were still burning as walked over to her. You didn’t meet his eye. “I know why you do this.” He whispered. “I just wished you didn’t.”

Your patience snapped. It had been a long day, a difficult day: your entire body ached from travel and fighting and you just wanted to rest. Now Nikolai was questioning your entire life and what you had been trained for. "Not everyone can be born royal."

"You could become royal." He didn’t seem to realise that he was aggravating her.

"No." She said pointedly. "We've already discussed that that's never happening."

Nikolai silently brushed your jacket off your shoulders and folded it over a chair. "Do you want me to draw you a bath?"

You shook your head. "Don't worry the servants this late. I just need to sleep."

Nik kept peeling your outer layers from you, like he peeled back your cold exterior to reveal the woman he loved. "Come to mine."

He was inviting you to his bed, instead of the cold bedchambers you inhabited before you left. If you had gone to your rooms, they would be frigid, furniture covered with cloths from your unknown date of return.

"Alright." It's a whisper, but a whisper Nik runs with.

He leads you through the hallways, avoiding eye contact with any servants or guards you pass. The closer you get, the heavier your limbs feel. Your head is growing tired and the corners of your vision fading. Nikolai notices your stumbled steps and loops an arm around you. "Not long now."

You muster a small smile as you finally reach the door of his chambers, and you're lowered into a chair by the roaring fire. With tingling fingers, you unbutton the rest of your clothes as Nikolai fetches a shirt for you. Your eyes slip shut as he returns and a horrified gasp fills the air.

"You said it wasn’t your blood."

Your eyelids are like lead as you peel them open and glance down. There's two slash wounds across your chest and stomach, probably from a blade that you hadn't noticed yourself getting. There still bleeding, an insistent flow that gathers and soaks into your shirt.

"I didn't even- I didn't know." As you move to touch the slices, the pain finally hits you full force. The ache that had been all encompassing of your body now centred on your midriff, sending shocks up your spine. "Shit. I-"

"It's okay." Nikolai's gone from standing to kneeling before you, using your soiled shirt to press into the wounds and staunch the bleeding. It stings but you know he's making it better. Through your pain and fatigue, you didn't notice Nik calling for some servants to bring him supplies. He cleaned your wounds, holding you to his chest as he checked you for any other injuries you'd been hiding.

"I was wrong." You whisper into his ear as he wraps a bandage around you.

Nikolai‘s eyes shone. "I’m sorry, what did you say?"

"I was wrong. About my job, about you."

"I-"

"Don't you dare say I told you so."

Nikolai shrugs. "I did tell you."

"Shut up."

He's silent for a moment before checking with you again. "Are you sure? I know how much this job meant to you, no matter how much it hurts."

"Maybe it's time to call it a day. Do something better with my life."

Nik hums in response as you settle into bed. He holds you close, letting his hand rest just above your heart.

"I want to come home to you without worrying about when I'll have to leave again. I don't want to come home injured every time. I want-"

"Anything you want you'll get." He interrupts. "All you have to do is ask."

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #muxsh #muxshwriting #grishaverse x reader

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theowritesstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Yours No More

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader

Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint

Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon

Sobachka - puppy

Moi tsarevich - my prince

Moi tsar - my king

SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS

When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.

You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.

While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.

You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.

He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.

If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.

He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.

“How do I look?” He asked you.

“Different.” You nodded.

“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.

“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”

He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”

“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”

He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”

You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”

“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Am I what?”

“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.

Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.

“Come in.” Nikolai called.

Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”

Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.

You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.

“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.

You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”

“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”

“I would.”

Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.

He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.

“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.

“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.

You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”

“Privateer. It’s an-”

“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.

Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.

“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.

“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.

You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.

“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”

He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.

“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.

He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.

Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.

When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.

You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.

Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.

Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.

“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.

It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.

“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.

Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.

You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.

Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.

He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.

You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.

You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.

He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.

He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.

Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.

She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.

“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.

You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

He nods and takes a deep breath.

“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”

Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.

When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.

You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.

“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.

He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”

“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.

“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.

You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.

You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.

He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.

The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.

Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.

“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.

“The king.” Zoya corrects her.

“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.

Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”

You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.

Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.

You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.

“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.

“Moi tsar-”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.

“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.

He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.

You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”

He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”

You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.”

You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.

Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”

You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.

After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.

“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”

Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”

Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.

“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”

You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.

Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.

“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.

You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.

“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”

She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.

You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.

“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.

She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”

You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?

“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”

You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.

Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.

Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.

Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.

When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.

“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.

“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.

Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.

“Now, you know sacrifice.”

“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”

“Indeed. Look what it did.”

You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.

“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”

You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.

You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.

“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.

After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.

Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.

There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.

You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.

“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.

“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.

“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.

You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.

His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.

“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.

He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”

You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.

“It seems you need it more than I do.”

“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.

His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.

You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”

He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”

“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.

“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

“But Alina-”

“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”

“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.

He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”

You can’t fathom doing any of that.

“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”

A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”

Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse

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atlabeth · 2 months ago

Note

I desperately need you to give me some jealous nikolai lanstov I'm not even jokinh

my love mine all mine

lowkey continuation of bad luck and im with you; can be read standalone though!

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem reader

summary: after your return to ravka, nikolai's resolve is tested at a ball.

a/n: i have saved this ask since september because i knew one day i would get around to it. i love nikolai lantsov and i dont write jealous fics often so here we go!! this is technically a continuation of bad luck and im with you but you can read it separately. i keep going back to these two for some reason lmao?? idk. theyre childhood friends to lovers with so much strife in between and that's so special to me lmao. but yah enjoy i MISSED WRITING FOR HIM<3

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): nikolai is a lil jealous obviously! small bit of angst, mostly fluff, lil steamy at the end.

Nikolai feels his lip curling, feels his hand tighten on his glass.

This is a party. A ball, more specifically, but a celebration nonetheless. He should be smiling, mingling, talking up some baron or duke in the name of Ravka’s economy. He is a prince, after all—a bastard, second son of a prince that plans to take the throne at that—and he’s just returned from years at sea. It is in his best interest to do what he does best and talk as much as possible. If anything, he should be arm in arm with the Sun Summoner to boost both their positions.

But all he can do is stare at you.

You’re the embodiment of grace. Your practiced smile looks wholly genuine no matter how long you have to keep it up. Your laugh seems to make others smile without even realizing, ringing out clear like church bells. It’s a sound Nikolai knows he would worship to the end of his days, at least.

You stand in the midst of noblemen and Nikolai only recognizes one—Artem Aslanov, a son of nobles that the two of you spent much of your youth with. He wonders if you remember each other as well. He certainly seems to, the way he stands just a bit too close to you, the way he’s absolutely eager for your attention. Nikolai holds back a scoff.

The others are likely from various other Ravkan settlements, though one has to be Kaelish, with his almost offensively ginger hair.

Not that any of it matters, though. Not one of them can tear their eyes away from you as you talk, magnetic with both your words and inherent charm, and they drink up every bit of your presence.

Something stirs inside Nikolai at the sight. Logically, he knows he has little to worry about—he knows this is your duty as much as it is his, and you care little for any man’s affections but his.

But Saints, his heart does not want to listen to silly things such as logic. In this moment, Nikolai is reminded of the truth at its barest—you’re a noblewoman of good breeding, quite extravagant wealth, and considerable beauty. Your years at sea have caused you to develop a quick wit and sharp tongue, and it only serves to make you more appealing.

Your flashy return to Ravka has made you perhaps the most desirable lady at court, and Nikolai is forced to realize he no longer has you all to himself anymore.

Nikolai has planned to come back and take the Lantsov throne for years now, but he can’t help but long for those days again. Teaching you all the ins and outs of the Volkvolny, how to do every sailor’s knot he knows, showing you the misty mountains of the Wandering Isle and the rolling fields of Novyi Zem and the wonderful world outside of Ravka’s courtly constraints.

Taking over the ships of slavers and clashing blades with drüskelle and watching a thousand sunrises and sunsets together, unbound by anything but tangled up in every part of each other.

It was almost laughable. You were worried of Nikolai charming others upon your return, and yet here he was, unable to look away from you for even the slightest second because he was jealous of some noble son.

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

Nikolai turns back to the conversation he is meant to be paying attention to, already offering a smile that he hopes will make up for his utter lack of focus. Of course, he doesn’t really care what this Kerch merchant thinks of him, and Nikolai’s word will probably mean little to his parents at the moment. They’re still quite angry at him for all his Sturmhondish escapades. This man, whose name he has already forgotten, doesn’t seem to know he’s wasting his time.

“Of course I am,” he says, and he pats him on the shoulder. He means to say more, but then he catches a glance of Artem pulling you to the side, his hand lingering on your waist much too close for comfort. He’s surprised he doesn’t break his glass with how his fingers clench around it even tighter.

“Then I would be honored for you to consider my—”

“I apologize, Jansen.” Nikolai ignores the look on his face at both his interruption and being called the wrong name as he drops his hand. “It’s been wonderful chatting with you, but I’m afraid I must take my leave.”

Nikolai departs before he can get another word out. He’s sure he’ll get an earful later for his ‘disrespect’ but again, he really could not care less.

He expects to have to weave his way through the crowd, but a path parts for him wherever he moves. Benefits to being a Lantsov prince rather than another privateer on the sea, he supposes. He feels a number of eyes on him as he walks, but he’s focused on one thing and one thing only.

Artem seems to be as well, seeing as he doesn’t even look up while he continues talking to you. Nikolai doesn’t blame him for being enraptured, but he does wonder what he thinks that boorish smile will do to you.

Nikolai exclaims your name as he comes up next to you, sliding his arm around your waist like he’s done a thousand times before and claiming his place at your side. “I’ve been looking for you, milaya. You’ve been awfully popular tonight.”

Your gleaming gaze turns to him and Nikolai feels like he can melt. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him—not even Alina can muster up something to rival your brightness.

“Nikolai!”

Again, the way you say his name makes him weak at the knees. The poshness of your Ravkan faded while you were at sea around common sailors and vagrants, and though he can tell you’re trying your best to hide it in the name of courtly etiquette, it still bleeds through. He adores your accent, how it shows the woman you’ve become rather than the girl you ran away from.

“I’ve been looking for you,” you counter as you lean into him. You’ve applied some fanciful perfume, and it’s intoxicating. He has to stop himself from inhaling deeply—he has little shame when it comes to you, but he’s got to have some poise. “You’re the belle of the ball, Mister Prince.”

“And you’re the apple of everyone’s eye, lapushka,” he says. “Especially mine.”

Your heartbeat has been steadily increasing ever since he slotted himself at your side, and he can feel it speed even more with his words. It makes Nikolai smile without even fully realizing it.

He feels Artem’s gaze on him all the while, and Nikolai chooses to ignore it until now. He looks up, making sure his eyes widen cartoonishly and his smile deepens with the same caliber. “Aslanov! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice you!”

“Your Highness,” he says, polite but terse as he bows his head. “It’s good to see you—it has truly been too long.”

“Oh, no need for titles,” Nikolai admonishes. “We’re all friends here, are we not?”

He puts particular emphasis on that word, and Artem shifts ever so slightly under Nikolai’s gaze. So he makes him nervous—good.

“We are,” he agrees, and he looks back at you. “We were merely catching up—it has been years since I last had the good fortune to be in your presence.” Artem smiles at you once again, far more genuine than anything he’s given Nikolai. “Of course, I look forward to hearing about everything you learned at university.”

“I’ve certainly learned a lot,” you say. Very tongue-in-cheek—you don’t even try to hide it.

Of course. The cover story for Nikolai’s being away from court was his apprenticeships, culminating in his studies at the University of Ketterdam—it would be a shame of the highest order for your parents to admit you ran away to avoid the marriage they’d planned for you, and even more so to admit it had gotten their daughter kidnapped by slavers, so they simply said you joined him there.

Advancing your studies for a better view, they’d spouted. We want our heir to be well-educated on all matters of the world. Nikolai knows you learned more on the seas by his side than you would have in a classroom staring at endless amounts of books. He only regrets he can’t shout how amazing you’ve been for the past few years from the rooftops.

“Perhaps we could discuss it privately some time.” Nikolai will give it to him; his smile is a bit more charming this time. He still wants to punch it off him. “You know, my family has only refined our winemaking over the years—we’d have a wonderful time with a bottle of our finest red—”

“Unfortunately, it will have to wait,” Nikolai cuts in before you can respond. He can’t help it—he’s raring to have you to himself, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take of Artem’s flirting. “My parents are eager to speak to you, darling. We’ll see you around, Aslanov.”

He pulls you away, once again feeling Artem’s eyes on the two of you. He purposefully pulls you closer against him—your warmth against him does wonders to quell the spike of jealousy in his chest.

“You really are impossible,” you say wryly, but you make no move to part from his side as he leads you through the crowd.

“I’m just making sure he understands the situation,” Nikolai says innocently.

“We were just talking,” you say. “You know, it has been years.”

“You were,” he agrees. “But our friend here was very interested in trying to be more. Couldn’t you tell?”

You laugh and you place your hand on his chest. “Nikolai Lantsov, are you jealous?”

“He was talking about his family’s vineyard.” He smiles back at you in turn. He can’t help the bit of bravado that trickles in. “For me to be jealous, I’d have to think he had a chance.”

“Saints, you are!” you exclaim. You stop, halting him in turn, and you grin at him with a twinkle in your eye. Again, he smiles subconsciously just at the sight of it. “Nikolai, I cannot believe you!”

“How?” he asks, cocking his head boyishly. “Have you caught a glimpse of yourself tonight?”

“I’ve looked at myself in the reflection of every glass,” you say dryly. “After all the time spent in sea-faring clothes, it’s very strange to be back in gowns.”

“Then you should know how absolutely stunning you are,” he says. “Breathtaking, showstopping, the very image of perfection…” Nikolai runs his finger over the embroidery on one of your off-the-shoulder sleeves. The rest of his hand lingers on your bare skin, and he longs to remove the barrier his gloves have created.

“And yet it still doesn’t beat how you look in a privateer’s garb,” Nikolai says.

He places his hand over yours and brings it up from his chest. He entangles your fingers and uses the grasp to pull you even closer to him, your chests nearly touching. The warmth of your body tempts him to go even further, but he holds back.

“Really?” you ask. “This gown cost more vlachkas than anyone deserves, took the labor of a small army to create, and weighs as much as you do, and you like me more in that dingy jacket with pants that smell like gunpowder?”

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai nods. “They don’t just smell like gunpowder—they make your rear look very appealing.”

You laugh louder than you should and it draws eyes in your direction. You don’t pay them any mind, gaze still locked on Nikolai, as you hit him on the chest.

“You still have the mind of a sailor, I see,” you drawl. “But I must admit I also miss it. The simplicity, if anything.”

“Just because I didn’t keep a king’s mantle on deck doesn’t mean I wasn’t outfitted in the same gaudy way,” Nikolai says. “A Lantsov must always be prepared, you know.”

“Well, I used to hate that blue frock of yours, especially when we first reunited,” you muse. You extract your hand and trail your fingers down his current coat—he shivers at your touch even through the material. “Now I think I prefer it over anything else in your wardrobe.”

He frowns. “You hated my coat?”

“I hated a lot of things at the time,” you say wryly. Your hand finds its way back to his and you intertwine them together again. “Besides, it’s grown on me.”

Nikolai chuckles, and the two of you fall silent when you shift and rest your head on his shoulder. You’ve managed to find your way to the edge of the ballroom, and it gives you a little more privacy. You stand together, watching as everyone mingles, half bearing a fake smile and the other half lying through their teeth. He didn’t think the Ravkan court would like to think they had more in common with his lying, cheating, stealing crew than they thought.

“So,” Nikolai says, finally breaking the silence, “is being back everything you’ve imagined?”

You huff. “Hardly. Everything is so… restrained.”

He hums in acknowledgement. “Speaking of restrained, have your parents gotten over their fit yet?”

Your laugh is sharper this time. “Once again, hardly. You’d think I murdered the queen the way they’re treating me.”

Nikolai expected that, to be honest. He insisted on being by your side in the initial reunion and they didn’t dare act out of turn in front of royalty, but you said the moment you returned to your palace apartment with them, they yelled at you loud enough to be heard in Novyi Zem.

“They should be thankful,” Nikolai scoffs. “It’s like they don’t even care what nearly happened to you because of their haste to marry you off.”

“I don’t even like to think about it,” you murmur. He feels you shiver and he pulls you even closer to him. “But I was right—they want me to be who I was before I left. They’re even convinced that they can get me to agree to the marriage they’ve got planned.”

His frown deepens. “Saints, must I sweep you off your feet in front of all of Ravka to get everyone to realize you’re a taken woman? I am a very good shot, but I’ve only got so many bullets—”

“Nikolai,” you interrupt with a laugh, raising your head to look him in the eye. He’s glad to see the lightness has returned. Your near fate isn’t a subject either of you like to talk about. “You don’t need to worry, and you certainly don’t need to worry about that.” You cup his cheek with your hand and he leans into your touch. ��If one thing has stayed the same through all of this, it’s that you’re the only one out there for me. After all the pomp and circumstance you have to perform with Alina is over, you can tell them yourself.”

“Good,” Nikolai says with a slight smile. “Because I don’t think I can stand to hear Aslanov talk about the grapes his family’s been growing for another second.”

You laugh again, and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. Nikolai beats you to it as he covers your hand with his own, using his other to draw you even closer. Practically every part of you is touching as he kisses you like a starving man, with your lips against his and your perfume invading his senses and your soft moan that’s muffled against his mouth. After a night spent away from your side and having to watch other men compete fruitlessly for your affections, he might as well be.

When you finally pull away, lipstick a mess and pupils dilated and expression nothing less than adoration, it takes everything Nikolai has in him not to take your face in his hands and do it all over again. He wants to mess up your hair, your makeup, kiss your lips until they’re swollen and ravish, worship your body until you can think of nothing but him, say nothing but his name.

“Nikolai,” you gasp, interrupting his sinful thoughts, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?”

Whatever restraint he previously had dissolves with your words as he kisses you again, harder this time. You’re water when he’s dying, a lifeboat when he’s drowning, the very air he needs to breathe. Everything has come to a head after such a boring, strength-testing night, and all Nikolai wants is you.

He brings you even closer with the arm he has around your waist, already starting to pull you along as he heads towards the doorways. He’s sure to stick to the walls, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary when even the flushed warmth of your heated skin through his jacket is enough to drive him crazy.

Nikolai doesn’t know how he ever spent seven years away from you. He could barely handle half a ball.

“More than anything,” he breathes.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

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unactive-shroom · 19 days ago

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

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Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike."

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne.

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.”

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.”

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression.

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you, just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away.

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?”

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

"You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

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