#sturmhond fic

[pleasurebuttonwrites]

the privateer & me

Chapter 3 sturmhond x ofc | 1.7k | rating: teen Masterlist

Rumors fly after Saskia's dinner with Captain Sturmhond

author's note: this is set prior to the events of shadow & bone. later chapters will contain smut. content: no warnings

~~~

A few days had gone by without me seeing him. And it was agonizing. I did everything but march up to his quarters and knock on the door. Which would have really gotten people talking — and I didn’t need that. The morning after our dinner, the gossiper of the Volkvolny, Anya, cornered me as I arrived for my shift in the galley. She asked about my night and I could swear everyone leaned in about an inch to hear better. I told her I would tell her later, but I didn’t plan on telling her anything. If rumors were going to spread, they wouldn’t be seeded by the truth. 

Unfortunately, it only served to make it all the more mysterious — and therefore interesting — to everyone. I was nearly tempted to set the record straight, but I didn’t want it getting back to the captain that I had said anything. By then the message would more than likely get warped and then he’d think I’d said something I definitely hadn’t.

I wanted to talk to him myself. I needed to understand what happened. What if my turning away, well, turned him away? Was that it? I hadn’t kissed him when he wanted and he just dropped me without a word? Even though we’d had such a wonderful time together? I tried to put him out of my mind, but I had really felt something. I didn’t want to believe that he’d be this way.

I would find excuses to be above deck. I practically haunted the spot that he first asked me to dinner, but then I would feel pathetic and I would go back to my bunk. But all that was waiting for me there was this damn book that I still was not able to read. I had been so excited about it, but every time I picked it up, my thoughts were consumed with him, and I was trying expressly not to think of him. So it sat there unread, while I paced trying desperately to distract myself.

By the fourth day, the rumors changed. As we hadn’t been seen together again, people were saying we had become more secretive, but I also heard that we “fizzled” out. I was afraid the latter might actually be true.

Finally, I felt like I had a normal day again. I was not consumed with thoughts about him. Oh it came and went, but I was able to enjoy things here and there and my focus was back. I even entertained the idea of starting the book when I was finished with work for the day.

So of course, that was exactly the day that when I left the galley to return to my bunk, the captain was waiting for me in the corridor. I was so stunned I stopped in my tracks and just stared at him. 

“Miss Zimová,” he said with a head nod.

A few others emerged from the galley and when they saw us, they gave us looks and started excitedly whispering as they walked away. It made me so angry, I walked right past him. I realized that as the captain, I was supposed to show him more respect than that. There was a part of me that wondered if I would be censured for that but my pride wouldn’t let me backtrack, so I just kept on going.

I wasn’t sure if he was following me at first. Was that disappointment I felt? But then I heard his footsteps and I could swear I could feel the exact spot on my back that he was staring at. I got to the part of the ship where I could go left and go back to my bunk or go right to the storage area — where no one would be. As I approached, I told myself to go left. That nothing good could come of going right. Left, and my life went back to the way it was. Eventually the talk would die down and everyone would forget about that one time I dined with the captain. 

But then I was at the end of the corridor and, without stopping, my feet took me to the right. I strained to pick up any telltale sounds from his footsteps. Did he falter when I turned? Was he walking faster now? Or was that me?

We were far enough into the storage section that we were completely alone, but I didn’t want to turn and face him yet. I came to a stop and it was so quiet that for a heart-stopping moment I wondered if he had even followed me at all. Did I just turn down this way for nothing?

I turned slowly to find him patiently waiting and watching me intently. It also seemed he was doing his damnedest not to look amused. He did not succeed.

“Trying to get me alone, Zimová?” he asked.

I instantly blushed. This was not where I was intending this to go, but I had to admit the thought gave me a thrill. I mean, I was trying to get him alone, but not for what he was suggesting. Just to get away from prying eyes so that we could talk.

“I... no...,” I stammered out.

“My apologies,” he said. “I was only trying to break the tension.”

“I don’t suppose I need to tell you that you failed.” I was definitely snippier than I meant to be. “What can I do for you, captain?”

“Would you like to join me for dinner again?”

I had to stop myself from blurting out ‘yes.’ “Can I say no?” I asked instead.

I don’t think I’d ever seen his confidence crack like it did when I asked this. He recovered quickly, but the disappointment was unmistakable. “Yes, of course,” he answered. “Good evening, Miss Zimová.”

He turned to go, and I realized what that had sounded like. “Wait!” I called out. He politely turned to listen. “I just wanted to know if I could. Not that I was going to.”

Hope bloomed on his face, and I was intoxicated by the fact that I put it there. “Is that a yes?”

—

“Why does it bother you so much?” he asked, and there was laughter in his eyes. He didn’t seem to take any stories or rumors seriously. I guess if you were a mysterious captain of a smuggling ship, you’d have heard it all. But I had been mostly unnoticed until he noticed me, and I hated the looks and the whispers that followed me around.

“I just hate what they’re saying.”

We were comfortably arranged in the seating area after dinner, myself on the same couch from the night of the party, and the captain in the armchair next to it.

“What would you rather they say about you?”

“Nothing! I miss being a nobody.”

“That’s a shame,” he told me, and the way he looked at me made it feel as intimate as if we were seated next to each other.

I shook my head, partially to refute him, but also to dissipate the tension we kept creating. “Have you not been hearing what they’re saying?”

“I have,” he said simply.

“And?”

“And what? Are you suggesting we really do the things people think we’ve done? Because that could be interesting...”

His lips were positively glistening when he said this. I caught myself staring and got up from my  spot on the couch and began to pace. When I turned back around to say something, his eyes were drinking me in. It stopped me in my tracks and my mind went blank.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you when I first invited you to dinner. I’m so used to it by now, I didn’t even think about it. If I could do anything to stop it, I would.”

“Can’t you just set the record straight? I mean, you’re the captain, they have to listen to you.”

“What exactly is the record?” he asked as he studied me.

“That we’re...” I faltered. While ‘friends’ was the right answer it didn’t feel like that totally captured it. But that was all I wanted others to know.

“Friends?” he finished for me. I nodded. “They may have to listen to me when I give orders, Miss Zimová, but they can still think whatever they like. Can you imagine what they would think if I gathered everyone round and announced that you and I were friends?”

“I guess it would be pretty strange,” I mumbled.

“They would just believe what they’ve been saying even more. They talk more to amuse themselves anyway. Hopefully something exciting will happen soon, and then they’ll forget all about us.”

“Yeah, but...”

“But what?”

“But they’ll still think the wrong thing about me.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not how they see me! I wish they could get it right.”

He pondered that for a rare moment of seriousness. “Do you think that’s even possible? How do you know they didn’t have the wrong idea before they started talking about you? They don’t know you now. They didn’t know you then either.”

Damn, that makes a lot of sense. “I suppose the difference is that I didn’t know what they thought before.”

“Then stop listening. That’s what I do.”

“Yeah, but you get to retreat to your quarters, and no one would dare say anything to your face.”

“Then I shall give you your own quarters. And take you off kitchen duty. I’ll fill your room with books and you can fill your days with reading, and having dinner with me, of course.”

“I don’t even want to imagine what the talk would be then,” I said wryly.

“The point is that you won’t have to hear it anyway.”

I shook my head.

“It’s a one time offer,” he warned, but from the light in his eyes I could tell he wasn’t serious. 

I shook my head again.

“As you like it, Miss Zimová.”

“Captain?”

“Hmm?”

“Since we’re friends and all, maybe you can call me Saskia.”

[spideytingley]

my april fic recs!

percy jackson & the olympians

luke castellan

true luck’s kiss by @atlabeth

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

twin beads by @supercutszns

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

ACOTAR

azriel

a healer’s touch by @bat-boys

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

eye of the storm (series) by @thesunloveschips

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

missed target by @imaginesmai

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

if it all fell by @pellucid-constellations

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

notice me! by @heartless-tate

summary: Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

love of choice by @writingcroissant

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

bluebird (series) by @acourtofwhatthefuck

let me keep you company by @utterlyazriel

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

strings that bind us by @parkerslatte

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

wings by @itsswritten

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

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

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

marvel

bucky barnes

always you, forever by @pellucid-constellations

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

dc

clark kent

handyman by @itsrubberbisquit

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

jason todd

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

grishaverse

nikolai lanstov

this is me trying by @criminalamnesia

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

dancing with our hands tied by @criminalamnesia

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

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

thanks 🤎

May I Have This Dance?

nikolai lanstov x reader - may i have this dance?

word count: 3k

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

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

a/n: first request!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[criminalamnesia]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, no gendered pronouns used (that I know of), grisha!heartrender!reader

author’s note: dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift inspired this! also listen I love zoya and nikolai but nikolai is just sooooooo ksjfjsjs I wanted to write a reader insert for him.

—

What you had with your captain was something no one understood– not even the two of you.

Sturmhond– or Nikolai, as you knew him in secret– was your friend. Your captain. But he was also something more.

He was a rogue ship, and you were a lighthouse guiding him home. He was a dangerous sea, threatening to drown you if you tested your luck– and oh, how you were so close to seeing what would happen if you did.

You shouldn’t even know his true identity. But, as fate would have it, he needed a heartrender with a specific set of skills that you just happened to have, and you needed an escape.

You were his tailor– disguising his appearance and turning him into the infamous Sturmhond. That was the only reason you were allowed to see him without his mask– you were the one to put it back together.

“You’re not surprised?” He had asked you the first night your services had been requested.

The ginger hair of Sturmhond had faded. The crooked nose had straightened, but the same smug grin was still present.

“No,” you had said. “I know that heartbeat. I knew it was you a mile from your ship.”

That took him aback. How did you know his heartbeat?

You had laughed, your eyes twinkling with something he found mesmerizing. He didn’t know you– he was sure of it. He wouldn’t forget a face like yours.

One of your hands was on his shoulder, holding him still. The other roamed his face, fingers dancing across his skin as you worked.

“You’re staring,” you stated, your fingers moving to his messy blond hair. “Trying to figure out how I know you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, eyes watching your face intently. “Were you at the Little Palace?”

You nodded. “I was.” The blond of his hair started to turn red. “But I spent most of my time in the Grand Palace.” You paused, your hand leaving his shoulder to move to his chin, tilting his head to the side. You could hear his heart beat a tad bit faster.

“The Darkling gave me to your mother, as he did with Genya. I was her apprentice. She taught me how to tailor.” You told him.

“I didn’t suffer the same fate she did, if that’s what you’re wondering. Your father had eyes for her, not me.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Nikolai flinched.

“You were rarely home– but I met you once, when we were both still small. That’s why I know your heartbeat. The only one of the Royal Family to have a good heart– not a sour one. It stuck with me, I guess you could say.”

“I don’t remember you,” he admitted, and you gave a small laugh. His blond hair was almost completely red now.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re not the only one being tailored, Captain. The First Army can’t take me back if they don’t recognize me, now can they?”

“Are you listening?”

Nikolai’s voice broke you from your thoughts. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters on the ship. You stood between his knees, your hands on his face as you changed him back into Sturmhond.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You weren’t. This routine was something you could do in your sleep, and truthfully, you found your mind drifting off more and more whenever Nikolai required your assistance. It’s not that you found his company dull– quite the opposite, actually. But you didn’t want him to know that.

“No you weren’t,” he gave a small chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab one of yours. He pulled it from his face as he intertwined your fingers.

“Nikolai,” you hissed, pulling your hand from his grasp. “Do you want me to mess up? I was in the middle of reforming your nose.”

He sighed, his hand falling back to his lap as you raised yours once more. You avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw in them.

Between the two of you, he was the more open with his feelings. For the past few weeks, he had continuously tried to corner you and get you to talk about whatever the two of you were. To try and figure things out. You had successfully avoided him thus far, but you knew you were dancing on thin ice.

It was only a matter of time before he recruited one of the twins to subdue you while he forced you to listen. You wouldn’t put it past him, and you knew for a fact Tolya would help him. Curse that hopeless romantic.

“You’re insufferable. And exhausting,” he told you as you grasped his chin gently between your fingers, turning his face this way and that to examine your handiwork.

“I know. You tell me quite often,” you remarked, nodding to yourself as you moved to focus your sights on his hair.

He sighed. Silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost smothering, full of unsaid words and the tension between the two of you. You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him– his knees caging you in as you stood between his spread legs. His face in your hands, his hands now on your waist.

“We keep dancing around this,” he said. You didn’t reply, choosing to focus more intently on the roots of his hair. “The whole crew thinks we’re sleeping together.”

That caught you off guard. You gave a snort, rolling your eyes. “Of course they do. You call me to your quarters in the night, every week. You always stare at me, especially when you think I’m not looking. And you’re handsy– you’ve always got a hand on my back or my shoulder or something.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Well, you’re one to talk. Every time you laugh at something I’ve said, you grab onto my arm and go ‘oh Sturmhond!’. And don’t act like you don’t stare, too.”

“I do not say ‘oh Sturmhond’,” you said, looking down at him. He grinned that same crooked smile.

“I know you’re thinking it. Probably thinking some other things, too. Like how you’d like to–”

“Shut up, or I’m going to give you a black eye.” You hissed, pulling his hair harder than you should’ve.

He laughed. “You wouldn’t. You like my face too much.”

“Im sick of it, actually,” you remarked. “I see it everyday.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” He replied.

“You say that as if you’d let me leave. I’m the only tailor you’ve got.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the reason I wouldn’t let you leave, and we both know it.”

You dropped your hands as the last of his blond turned red. Your job here was done. There was nothing stopping you from bidding him goodnight and excusing yourself to your own cot. You knew he would drop it and let you go without another word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You didn’t want to say anything.

“So now you’re keeping me prisoner?” You said, suddenly all too aware of his hands squeezing your waist.

“Maybe I am. At least until you admit you like me,” he said, and you scoffed.

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here–” you began, but he cut you off.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He moved to stand. You tried to step back, but his hands on you kept you rooted to the spot. You looked up at him, heat rising to your cheeks. Your chests were touching now, and there were only inches between your lips and his.

“When are we going to stop playing this game?” He whispered, one of his hands moving from your waist to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You like it too much to stop.” You retorted.

“I’d like honesty more,” he said, and you shook your head. “As much fun as playing cat and mouse is with you, I’m growing tired of chasing. And we both know you’re tired of running.”

His hands were on your hips as he swung you around the deck, a laugh on his lips as you clung to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile as he dipped you, your eyes meeting his. There were unspoken promises in his gaze– too many feelings, and you had to look away.

Others danced around you two as a few of the crew played some song you’d never heard on makeshift instruments. Laughter and conversation made it hard to think straight. Spirits were high– you’d all just succeeded in breaking through a Fjerdan blockade– and that called for a celebration.

“They’re all going to think we’re together,” you had told Nikolai as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. He had laughed, leaning in close to whisper “let them” in your ear.

He had kissed you for the first time that night, after the party had subsided and everyone was asleep but the two of you. You had been talking quietly, watching the stars and listening to the waves, and he had kissed you and you had melted.

“Nikolai..” you sighed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t care,” he told you, and his heartbeat was as steady as it had ever been.

“I do,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You can’t play pirate forever. What happens when you go back to Ravka, back to your family? You can’t marry me. I’m nobody– not a princess, not a diplomat. I’m an escaped servant who knows too much and would be imprisoned or executed for escaping.”

“Privateer,” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. “And I’m the second son– a bastard second son. I’m already a disgrace in their eyes,” one of his hands moved to the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. “I can’t disappoint them any more than I have.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you now, they still won’t let me anywhere near you.” You replied, and he shook his head.

“Why are we even talking about this?” He asked. “We’re not in Ravka. We’re in the middle of the ocean, and no one cares what we do.”

He was right. You were far from Ravka and his family and your pasts. You were someone new, and he was, too. You weren’t an escaped servant– you were Sturmhond’s first mate. You were his most trusted friend– besides the twins– and you were the one he wanted.

And you wanted him, too.

“I don’t care about details,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t care about families or consequences or rumors. I care about you, about that little smile you always get before you win at cards, about how you let me drag you onto the dance floor while the crew stares, and how you put up with me more than you should.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned for words.

“I would do anything,” he began, his face slowly inching towards yours. “To dance with you again. To kiss you again. To not hide behind stolen glances and little jabs at each other.”

“Nikolai,” you murmured, your eyes flitting down to his lips.

“Yes?” He asked as your eyes found his once more.

“Just shut up.” You said, and you closed the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his.

Maybe nothing he said would be true in the morning. Maybe he would realize this was all a big mistake, but you didn’t care.

He was right. You were tired of running, and you were so glad he was tired of chasing.

And as you kissed, that heartbeat that you’d remembered after all these years– that you’d always remember– soared.

And you knew he wasn’t lying.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of a minor injury and blood]

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

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

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

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

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

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

But the privateer is quick to silence her:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m holding you to that.”

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

[ellewritesalright]

The Panther and the Hound

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

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

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

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

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

Word count: 2450

..........

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you sink his ship?”

“Does a spear pierce best when sharp?”

A comfortable silence settled between you three siblings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Nikolai had to ask.

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“So you left.”

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

“When I was fifteen.”

“So you know what it’s like.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I?” you smirked at him.

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

……….

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

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

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

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

“I spy?” He raised a brow at you.

“Yes. Have you never played?”

“Not since I was a child.”

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

“Is it that sweet shop?”

“Nope.”

He looked again. “That market stall?”

“Which one?”

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

“Hmm… no.”

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

“Given up, Captain Surplus?” 

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

“Those flowers are pink.”

“They’re orange.”

“They’re very much pink.”

“Fine. They’re salmon then.”

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

“You’re splitting hairs.”

“By not being delusional?”

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

“Which crate?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re incorrigible.” 

“I know.”

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

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

Nikolai laughed. "Which answer would you prefer?"

"The honest one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..........

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm ruthless?"

"Beautifully so." He nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

..........

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

Masterlist

Nikolai Taglist:

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

[apple---cider---vinegar]

By your side

Summary: the 5 times Nikolai was by your side and the one time he wasn't

Tags: hanahaki au, enemies to lovers, childhood friends to lovers.

WC: 1400 words.

(i)

You're old enough to understand him but not old enough to know him. That's the age at which you learn to hate Nikolai Lantsov.

He sits in your spot in the kitchen, looking for all the world as though he were heartbroken and tired.

It was your spot because it kept you away from the work and bustle while giving you a perfect view of your mother - her being one of the many cooks/pastry chefs in the palace.

It was something you liked to brag about when other kids tried to be mean - that your mum was a valued servant amongst royalty but you never told them that she'd sneak you the badly shaped pastries or any leftover filling. That would lead to theft or worse - accusations of treason.

You were a child. Not an idiot.

So when you walk in with marbles in your hand and see the boy for the first time, you understand that he's the kid that stays indoors.

He looked like the kind of weed that kept his clothes clean on purpose.

No wonder his mother trusted him with clothing like that!

So when you sit in a different corner, you've already grown to hate the prince and when your mum gives him a well made pastry and you none, you hate him even more.

Nikolai knows exactly what to make of you as you sit away and send him glares and he hates you for it.

You're old enough to understand the second prince of Ravka but not old enough to know him; that's the age at which you learn to hate him

(ii)

You take to calling him "the delicate darling" when your mum insists on fussing over the boy.

It's true that he never came back to the kitchens but it's also true that the isolated instance was enough for your mum to take to him and worry about him.

You never call him that to anyone but your mum as the joke of the name was in calling him 'delicate' and no member of royalty was ever to be spoken of in terms of frailty. It could lead to you being imprisoned but that doesn't stop you from committing treason in the privacy of your mum's company.

When she peers around the door in an empty room and rushes to your side, you know there's been talk.

There had been talk. Of Nikolai.

Everyone had just found out of why the second prince had been so othered his whole life.

He was a bastard child.

No one knew what to make of the news but no one was surprised either. In hindsight, it seemed something too obvious.

What else could justify the constant sobriety where Vasili was so blatant and spoilt?

You stop calling him "the delicate darling".

Your mum notices.

(iii)

The second prince of Ravka; Nikolai is beautiful.

You're his personal servant and know of his reclusive tendencies better than anyone could hope to.

You spend hours and days carrying and fetching inks, pens, books, papers, maps and any snacks within palace bounds but there are days where you can't grudge his highness.

Some days, he was too beautiful to be blamed.

You had easily imagined him as a painting held on the walls for the centuries to come but now you could imagine him as someone the young ones would gawk at. Because you'd gawked at him.

Just once and then you'd made sure to stomp on the urge but you had doen it -much to your humiliation.

His highness had decided to go horse riding, making his mother weep for joy and call him 'wise'.

Truly. A family of idiots.

You'd gotten his things and brought the horse to hime. With practice, he took the reins and got onto the dreadful thing and though there had been no talk, he'd made you still.

The Prince; Nikolai was beautiful.

The navy against his skin.

His dark eyes against his fair hair.

He might as well have been a sculpture!

He rushes away and you're left standing there with a knot in your sternum.

Nikolai? was beautiful?

Nikolai was beautiful.

You shove the knot away and keep it shoved away.

(iv)

He befriends you.

or, in earnest, he let you sit down while he spent hours poring overlooks in the library.

You don't lounge like he does but at least you're sitting down.

Thenhe let's you take blank papers, then from his tea tray and then from his pile of foreign candy.

You don't dare to talk to him. It was far beyond you to risk your job but Nikolai was either unaware or unbothered of his treatment towards you.

It's one of the many days with his reclusive tendencies when he asks you something.

"What is it like? To go out with people while doing your duties?"

"I don't understand"

He notices the lack of judgement. Searching your face, he elaborates "My mother insists I befriend other royals but I don't see the charm of it? Wouldn't I be chattering needlessly then? What difference does it make when I don't like them?".

Any opinion here would be treason. To a prince no less.

You keep quiet.

He sighs. "I understand. What is it that your friends do that you can't do at work? Besides being honest."

It's hard to keep your faces still.

Neither if you succeeds.

"Nicknames. We have nicknames while we go about our duties."

"Call me Kolya"

You can't tell if he means to ask you that as a servant or a confidant.

"At least now; in private. Please?"

You hope he doesn't insist after this, so you indulge him.

"Kolya"

He's beautiful when he smiles.

(v)

Kolya.

A single invented word.

Kolya.

Somethjng he hasn't been called before.

Kolya.

Somethkng melodic.

Kolya.

A gift from a friend.

Kolya.

Him.

He wants to lock the word and keep it with him.

Tie it to a locket, maybe.

Burn it into his inner arm.

Something, anything to keep it safe.

"Kolya"

You don't miss that he fights a smile.

"Yes?".

Ever the prince.

"Why flying?" You keep your voice hushed and words restrained. He doesn't

"Well, corny as it is - I value my freedom"

"Flying is.... freedom?"

How could a prince long for freedom?

"You understand. Don't you?"

And now, you do understand.

The whispered 'sobachka'.

The backhanded compliments.

The snobbery that seemed to keep him apart.

The insistence on his 'blood rights'.

Freedom.

You hadn't thought of this before. Hadn't thought of having an entire world and no one to split with.

"Isn't the sky lonely too?"

You face away and school your expressions.

Someone had rustled in.

(vi)

He runs away.

Kolya runs away and all you feel is pride.

He does it on the pretext of exploring the forest for a few days.

He packs his necessities. Gets on a horse. And he's gone.

You know because he's told you so and asked of your help and because he said he'd leave you something in the forest.

Its as dusk falls that you set out on his trail.

You know that he won't risk your job, so, you agree.

In a few days, soldiers would be sent our with lanterns with the hopes that the prince was lost and lying face first and drunk in the dirt.

It would be bittersweet to be the only one who knew.

Right now, you follow his trail deep into the woods and find your gift.

It was a pouch of the foreign candy you loved more than Nikolai did.

Holding the tattered pouch, made precisely to look as unlike royalty as possible, you feel something swell in your sternum and up your lungs.

You don't cry.

You cough up petals.

[aria-bun]

“Life is dull when one runs out of people to terrorize,” Kaz responded, closing the door.

“So you were bored.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Just Kaz and Nikolai being Kaz and Nikolai

[atac-agent]

hey, y'all!! gimme some Kanej or Zoyalai fanfics to write!!

PS: (totally not down with fever and writing a zoyalai fanfic where nikolai is down with flu-)

Edit: It's Out!! (Stay With Me)

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

hi bestie pls write Nikolai comforting you after having a nightmare thanks xox

You think you're so slick, babe.

No Rest For The Wicked - Nikolai Lantsov

Content Warnings: Nightmare Content. Reference To Trauma, Death, Loss And Fear. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

You're not dying, no that would be too easy.

Dying would almost be kinder, no you're not dying, you're watching everything else fall apart.

Nikolai's face should be a reassurance, Nikolai's voice in the dark would normally make you feel better. But right now, in this darkness, seeing his eyes is a new kind of pain. Knowing that he is only here, to be taken from you. Like everything is always taken from you. And you know there is nothing you can do to stop it.

You feel his grip on your arm, his blood on your hands, his skin turning cold, and his voice fading.

But you hear him saying your name, over and over, like a prayer, or a quiet wish.

You're not sure exactly when it stopped being a voice in your dream and when you started to wake to Nikolai sat beside your bed, hand gently placed on your arm, calling your name in the softest tone he can. His hair is still rustled and messy from sleep, and his eyes still not fully awake but so soft on you.

"You awake?" He whispers, his eyes roaming over you. "You're shaking."

"I dreamt about you," you say, the hitch in your breath more noticeable than you'd like in the quiet.

"Well love I would normally be flattered, but you don't seem to have had a good dream," he says. You laugh, it hurts your throat but you laugh anyway. You feel safer knowing he is here, you're glad here is here. You would've never gone to find him, but you're so glad he found you. He pulled you from your worst fears, he has a way of doing that.

"That's not your fault," you tell him. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Good, because if I had to fight a dream version of myself I am not entirely confident I would win, but I would never admit that," he cocks his head to the side, seeing the way your breath is still shuddering out of you. "I am sorry, can I do anything?"

"Tell me what's real," you say, gathering the energy to sit up.

"Well if you're getting all philosophical on me," he says.

"Kolya," you whisper a warning. He looks at you, softer again somehow. But now could he deny you, all shaken and half awake, his name in your mouth. He couldn't deny you anything.

"It's nearly morning," he says. "I heard you, you sounded scared and I came as fast as I could."

"Nikolai, always the hero," you say. "It's nearly morning?" He nods. "Just in time to watch the sunrise. Do you want to watch the sunrise?"

"I guess you could say I am, right now," he says, edges of his lips curling up. You give him a tiny shove.

"You cannot turn down an opportunity to flirt can you?"

"You wanted a reminder of what's real, what is more real than that?" He asks. You nod, agreeing with him. "The sun will be rising soon, I can get you my coat if you want to watch."

You nod, pulling your knees to your chest. "Yeah, I would like that."

"I'll get you that coat."

"I'll be waiting."

[frost-queen]

Spinning wheel (Grisha!Reader x Nikolai Lantsov)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are a heartrender Grisha who knows Nikolai from when he remained in the little palace. There you shared a rather intense dance where you can't keep your eyes off each other. It leads to so many almost kisses, he pulls you away after the dance to satisfy that. When Nikolai arrives in the spinning wheel he is greeted by a familair face, whom he thought had died due to Kirigan or the fold.

Before his glance met up with yours, you already knew. By the beating of his heart that he was aiming for you. Amongst the crowd was Nikolai. Prince Nikolai. Chatting with a Grisha as his gaze wandered towards you. Stunned and speechless at the same time. You saw him say goodbye to the Grisha, making his way over. A few dancers were performing their last steps as he walked across by the side-line. He smiled relieved holding his hand up. – “Y/n.” – he breathed out.

You quirked up a smile, hearing how his heartbeat spiked up in your presence. You laid your hand in his, feeling the smoothness of his palm. Nikolai closed his hand over yours. He started to walk backwards, gently guiding you to the open floor. Others joined, looking curious as to who the prince had chosen to dance with. – “You will return shortly.” – you said as he came to a stop. – “Yes.” – he answered lowly.

It made him look pitiful downwards. You smiled, tilting his chin up by your finger. – “Ravka needs their prince.” -  you told him as his eyes met up with yours. He smiled bowing his head to your hand. – “Yet Ravka has not earned you.” – you added making him frown. – “They do not deserve your heartful personage with all their cruelty in the world.” -  Nikolai brought your entangled hand up, giving it a kiss.

The music started when Nikolai and you turned half, placing a hand against one another. You went round in a circle. Switching course at the end, going back around. Your hand from behind your back, you brought upwards to take his. Spinning round, your gaze remained on him. He was forced to step backwards when you pushed forwards. – “You are leading.” – he whispered with a smile. It made you smirk flirtatious back at him.

You circled around with him as he kept chuckling at you leading the dance. Your hands up high let go, moving slowly down. Palms still pressed together; you circled around each other. You heard his breath shiver when staring at your eyes. The beating of his heart overpowering the music. You could only hear him. Steady with a flicker of yearning. You hopped once, turning underneath his arm. Nikolai couldn’t take his eyes of you, and neither could you.

You faced him as his hands ventured down to your waist. You gasped breathlessly when you felt his grip tighten on your waist. He picked you up, feet off the ground as he turned. He set you down slowly, making sure you were as close as possible to him. When your feet found steady ground, he subconsciously leaned forwards. Eyes drawn to your lips.

Blinking rapidly you weren’t even sure what his heartbeat was and yours. It beat in one steady line at the same pace. You had never experienced anything like that with anyone. Your reaction made Nikolai frown briefly. Wondering if anything was wrong. You smoothened your expression, smiling back at him. You made clear to him what it resolved around, placing your hand briefly near your heart. Nikolai copied your behavior.

He took a hold of you, dipping you down. His nose touched yours, stating at how close he was. You moved back up, looking down at his lips. The eagerness of kissing him burning on your lips. He took a deep breath, slightly tilting his head to the side. Eyes slowly closing as he wanted to kiss you. The steady beating of his heart loud to you. You inhaled, ready to receive him when something subconsciously made you pull apart. Nikolai and you spun away, rejoining to take each other’s hand.

You and him moved forwards with some keen footwork, body’s half facing each other. He brought your hand up, letting you spin twice underneath it. You lowered your arm near his face as his hand slid down your skin. You moved it behind your back, turning around. You met up with him as Nikolai knelt down, staring lovingly at you. You curtsied with a smile. Touching his cheek, he got back up, holding your hand against his cheek.

Nikolai let go of your hand when applaud filled the room. It startled the two of you. Both of you clapped along to thank the musicians. Looking around you noticed how some were whispering while looking your way. It made you swallow nervously. Had it been so obvious the way you danced with the prince?  Before you could ponder more, whisked Nikolai you away. Taking your hand as he pulled you off the dancefloor. Leading you through the crowd. – “The feast?” – you called out. Nikolai turned around, shushing you to keep quiet.

Feeling yourself fluster in his presence, you held your hand over your entangled hand with his. Not wanting to let go. Nikolai led you into the corridor away from the crowd. He didn’t stop till he was far out of reach. – “What are we…” – you started as he opened a door, pushing you inside. He shut the door while you admired your surroundings. It was a room you had never found yourself in.

Filled with books and a telescope. Before you could comment grabbed Nikolai you by the waist and neck. Pressing his lips onto yours. Back arched as he pulled you closer to him. Lips kissing yours desperately. His heart was pounding loud against his chest. It made you press your fingers into the fold of his shoulder to ease him down. He was working himself so up, you thought he might pass out from excitement. Nikolai felt his heartbeat slow down, making him pull briefly away to stare smiley back at you.

“I can’t have you have a heart attack over a kiss.” – you said teasingly. Nikolai laughed loud. – “Trust me it will take a lot for my heart to stop beating for you.” – he answered staring at your lips. You sucked in a breath, kissing him. The kiss was long and desperate. As if every second of it mattered. As if it was a first meeting and a last meeting at the same time. Thrilled to kiss for the first time yet saddened that it could be the last.

*

You exhaled loud, letting yourself fall back in the chair. – “Thank you Y/n.” – A Grisha said. You nodded too worn out to speak. The Grisha turned to the one laying down on a table. Wounded, yet still breathing thanks to you. The Grisha held his hands against the Grisha’s cheek on the table. Looking him in the eye. – “You are going to live… you are going to be alright.” – he said with hope.

The Grisha on the table, started crying. You got up, taking her hand. – “Thank you.” – you whispered with a lot of effort. You smiled down at her, feeling how tight she was squeezing your hand. Slowly letting go of her hand, you walked out, leaving her with some privacy. On your way out, you took a towel to clean the blood from your hands.

You then threw it aside. Massaging your shoulder, you untensed them. You moved a bit aside, closer to the wall seeing someone pass through. They were heavily wounded. Coming out of the corridor, you came to a crossing.

Wounded Grisha sitting or laying down to catch their breath. They had cuts and bruises. Some had lost a limb. All formed by the Darkling’s attacks. You yourself had been unlucky to encounter one of his attacks. Not as heavily damaged as many others but wounded and scarred. In your passing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stepped back, seeing yourself.

Coming closer with tears in your eyes. Your cheek bruised with red and blueness. Your fingers hovered over it shakily. Your gaze then went to your arms, knowing they had their scars. You had to look away or you’ll start crying your heart out. It was bad enough you still had nightmares. Walking away you came into the main entrance where everything connected. – “Y/n!” – a voice called out. You spotted a male Grisha calling you over. You saw he stood by another male Grisha panicking.

You ran over kneeling near him. – “He’s panicking. I can’t get him stable.” – the man told you. You looked down seeing how his leg was tied up with bandages. Taking a deep breath, you took a hold of the man. Listening to his heartbeat, you focused on slowing it down. Stop him from panicking. His breathing slowed down. You kept a close eye on him, lowering it to a normal rate.

From behind you, you heard some rumor. Loud new voices as their footsteps echoed in the spinning wheel. – “He should be alright now.” – you told the man. He nodded, thanking you. You got up, turning around as your eyes widened. – “Nikolai?” – you said loud and confused. Nikolai came to a stop, hearing his name, but unable to see from where it came. – “Nikolai!” – you called out louder, running over to him.

Nikolai gasped when he saw you. He sucked in a breath when you jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, spinning round with you. The people he was with, looking curious at him. He set you down, touching your cheek. – “You are real, you are here.” – he breathed out. You nodded placing your hand over his near your cheek. He noticed the bruises on your cheek, making him clench his jaw. – “Kirigan!” – he cursed out.

You grabbed his shoulder, untensing his muscles as you could tell he was getting worked up. – “It is alright Nikolai. I am alright.” – you reassured him. He exhaled deep, letting his forehead rest against yours. – “I thought you were dead. Taken by the fold or Kirigan…” – he confessed with sorrow. You shushed him again, grabbing him by the back of his neck, moving him closer. Lips almost touching. – “I am here.” – you whispered before kissing him.

-------------------------------------------------

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[rupturedhaven]

"When We Collide" is getting not one, but TWO spin-offs as it nears its emotional conclusion!

The first, "Just Know That I'm Already Home", is a 10 chapter adventure following Alina and Mal's quest to find each other after they are separated in mysterious circumstances. How does their separation connect to the upcoming trial of Aleksander Morozova, a.k.a. The Darkling?

The second (title TBD) will follow the fight for Os Alta's future after the events of the trial. Nikolai is taunted by nightmares of a demon, while Zoya decides to take her life in a bold new direction. They'll both be appearing in "When We Collide" again to set up their epic tale, so stay tuned for updates and further details!

(As you can see, graphic design is my passion lol just roll with it)

Read "When We Collide" here: When We Collide - Chapter 1 - RupturedHaven - Shadow and Bone (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

[yibeimolihuacha]

My problem is when I fall in love with a fictional character I can ship them with everyone, because if I fell in love with them then certainly so can everyone else, right?

Right?

[the-jules-world]

"The people had killed her Saint, relinquished dawn and hope to create an altar in the form of his city. A mad prince, a forsaken saint, a Lantsov puppet; whatever he was in life had been transformed into something worse in death."

The Curse of the Saint

[skiiyoomin]

would you consider doing a nikolai lantsov imagine in which the reader is a mercenary and they meet in ketterdam 👀?

⤑Back to navigation

Content: slight enemies to lovers?, TIME SET BEFORE THE WHOLE ALINA THING, swearing, slight violence (mentions of guns) fluff at the end

Summary: When you unexpectedly "steal" a job from Nikolai, currently under the name of Sturmhond, a playful rivalry forms between you two. When your life is suddenly put in danger, that relationship changes for the better.

a/n ABSOLUTELY!! I tried to fit the reader into the whole mercenary thing and i dont really know if its accurate or not, i hope you like it tho!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღThe Mercenary | Nikolai Lantsov

Lively chatter could be heard in the distance, the soft glow of the moon illuminating what the street lamps couldn't. Ketterdam was like that, never asleep.

Your feet splashed on a puddle as you walked through the street of the Barrel, sharp eye on the look out for anyone who was bold enough to pick your pocket. Finally, after a few turns, you stepped down a dark alleyway, stopping at a dark wooden door. Without bothering to knock, you slammed the door open, stepping into a small room, the fireplace bringing forth a warmth in sharp contrast to the cold of the city.

The person, a man around his 60s jumped slightly, head snapping towards your direction before relaxing slightly once they saw your figure "Jeez, always trynna gimme a fright ey"

You rolled your eyes, snickering slightly. Taking a seat, you leaned your elbows on your knees as you nodded towards the envelope "So what do you have for me?"

He chuckled, "Always straight to business huh" You cocked your eyebrow upward "Well that's exactly what we're here for are we not?" Chuckling once again, he looked down at the envelope before handing it to you "I don't know what it's about but a lil' birdie told me it pays well"

You snatched the envelope, quickly ripping it open. Your eyes scanned the letter, a small smirk settling on your lips "Well your little birdie wasn't wrong" Abruptly, you stood up, opening the door "Are ya not gonna tell me what it says" "You'll figure it out, don't stress it"

---------------------------------------

A soft sigh left your lips as you streched your arms upward, walking out into the fresh crisp air of the early morning. 'Damn that took longer than I expected' You walked back into the busy streets of Ketterdam, weaving between bodies, one should never stay out too long in the streets.

Despite the crowds, you noticed a change in the air, you were being watched, maybe even followed. You picked up your pace, trying to confuse your follower, however luck was not your side when you realized you wound up in a rather empty alleyway with a dead end, great.

Taking a step backwards, your back bumped into something hard, whirling around you came face to face with a young man, a smirk on his face. "What the fuck do you want?" you scowled. He slowly stepped forward, like a predator stalking towards it's prey, as you moved backwards, slamming into the wall. His voice was rough and low as he spoke "You, darling, took something from me" Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion "What are you talking about, I don't even know who you are" He chuckled, amusement written all over his face "Why you took my job of course" You scoffed "Your job? How is it yours when I got to it first huh" However, before he could speak another word, you pushed past him. You looked over your shoulder, smirking at him "If you want something you gotta move fast before someone else takes it, that's how you survive around here" Just like that, you moved back into the crowd, disappearing as if you were the air itself. The man stood amazed as he watched your figure disappear, a light laugh leaving his lips "How interesting"

-----------------------------------------------

For the next few weeks, you found yourself in the same situation with Sturmhond, whose name you learned a few days after that one day. He'd take jobs from you. You'd take jobs from him. Being as competitive as you both were, you'd provoke each other, trying to rile the other up. Nonetheless, there was a silent agreement that there was truly no bad blood between you two. Eventually you found yourself enjoying the teasing remarks and reveling in your little squabbles, feeling your heat flutter every time you were around him.

The next job you took, as simple as it was, only seemed to go downhill. You were currently racing down Fifth Harbour as a group of armed men chased you down, their faces fuming with rage. Suddenly you felt a hand grab your arm, forcefully pulling you to the side and into the persons chest, their other hand covering over your hand mouth before you could let a single noise out. A familiar smooth voice whispered into your ear "Sssh, don't make any noise unless you want to give yourself away"

After a few moments you moved away, facing towards him "You knew this was going to happen" It wasn't a question but rather a statement. He simply shrugged as if he hadn't just saved your life "What can I say, i'm simply that amazing" You scoffed, rolling your eyes "Unbelievable" "Hey you could at least say thank you, I did save your life just now" Once again you rolled your eyes, a small smile settling on your lips "Thank you" He courtesied dramatically "The pleasure is all mine, my lady" You threw your head back in laughter, copying his dramatic movements.

Before you could speak another word, you heard a shot ring out, bullet hitting the wall nearest to you. Your eyes landed on the same group you were running from, and they were looking straight back at you.

Sturmhond had faster reflexes and quickly grabbed your wrist, dashing once again down the harbour, practically dragging you with him. He suddenly swerved to the left, heading towards a ramp leading to a big ship. The occupants looked up at you, startled by the sudden intrusion, but they seemed to relax when they spotted Sturmhond. He led you towards the end of the ship, sitting you down on a box "Stay here, I'll make sure they aren't following"

Suddenly it dawned on you, this was his ship. He had told you many stories about his insane adventures on the same ship you were on right now, making you wonder what it was truly like to venture the sea into unknown lands.

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts "They're gone"

You leaned back into the wall, releasing a sigh of relief "You truly are a life saver" You smile, a teasing tone in your voice. "Only for you darling" You snickered in return, "You're so cheesy" Though the blush on your cheeks was obvious, he decided to save you the embarrassment, for now at least.

You let your eyes wander over the deck, taking in the vast variety of people doing their own thing "You weren't wrong when you said you had a nice ship" You mused.

"Well I do take great pride in it for a reason don't I?" He cocked his eyebrow upward, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A wishful sigh left your lips, standing up you leaned on the railing, looking out at the sea "It must be nice, getting to explore the unknown sea, visiting all sorts of places"

There was a pause, almost as if an unspoken question was asked. His voice was soft and doubtful, as if he was unsure if he'd scare you away with his words "You...could always join me, we have plenty of space here"

You turned to him, a sparkle in your eye "Really? You mean it?"

He took your hands in his "I do, I could teach you everything, I'm sure you'd fit right in"

He abruptly stopped his words, moving his hand to your cheek, grazing his thumb against your soft skin "I'd miss you too much, it wouldn't be the same without you"

You smiled softly "I'd miss you too...Thank you, Sturmhond"

His gaze flickered to your lips, lingering a second too long "Nikolai"

"What?"

"Call me Nikolai"

His soft lips pressed against yours, pulling you impossibly close, your previous shock slipped from your mind as you kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

If you had known, you would've stolen jobs from him much sooner.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Sunrises - Nikolai Lanstov x OC

warnings: Sturmhond Nikolai, post season 2, sweet, soft fluffy Nik, new Grisha OC

word count: 7.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1382079816-sunrises-zrina

Masterlist

Zrina stared up at the imposing ship and swallowed thickly past the knot of nerves lodged in her throat.  Her excitement at being chosen for this commission had soon faded to a nervous dread at the enormity of her task.  It was only thoughts of her parents that finally encouraged her to set a foot on the wooden ramp that led up to the deck.  She hoped they’d have been proud.

The Volkvolny was a mighty vessel and Zrina shook herself once more at the realisation that not only had she been chosen for Sturmhond’s fleet, but that she was on his flagship, her, a brand new squaller with barely a week of experience driving a wind through a sail. No, she thought to herself, you can do this!  A stern voice brought her back out of her thoughts and she hitched her large bag up onto her shoulder as she turned to see who had spoken.

“You’re late,” the Grisha huffed once more, rolling his eyes in disparagement.

“I…I’m sorry,” Zrina stammered, feeling her cheeks flush.  “There was a queue at the entrance to the docks and…”

The Grisha cut off her explanation with a wave of his hand and jerked his head towards the other end of the ship.

“Your bunk’s that way.  Stow your gear and then come to the foredeck.  Be quick though, you don’t want to keep Sturmhond waiting. Again.”

Below deck men, women and Grisha moved around stowing their belongings and readying for departure. Zrina had never been on a ship of this size and she wasn’t sure she even belonged now, gripping tightly to her pack, huddled deep into the collar of her kefta. She studied the other squallers, moving toward where they had formed a corner of bunks and set her belongings on the floor near the wall, earning a few dirty looks from who were supposed to be her peers and friends. 

“Did you finally figure out how to use your wind, otkazat'sya?” One of them sneered, pushing past her one by one they slammed into her shoulders to remind her of her place. 

Orphan. They had started calling her that at school, when her powers seemed fizzle and crack. She was a Grisha, born from two powerful squallers and placed on a pedestal she would never belong on. But she had not been abandoned, or refused like the other squallers seemed to believe. The power was there, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was her fear. 

“You look as though you might be sick,” a voice called out as soon as the hull emptied. 

Zrina spun to follow the sound only to find a lanky body resting haphazardly in one of the dirty canvas hammocks, a hat pulled down over their face. 

“I will be fine, thank you.” She spoke, pinning her shoulders back she attempted to push away the nausea that churned in her stomach. There were a thousand ship hands like this one, mean and abrasive to newcomers. He was probably drunk on last night's whiskey and had just been looking for a quiet place to nap. 

“There is candied ginger in the barrel behind you, place a piece between your teeth.” He said. 

Zrina turned to look at the small barrel, perched atop a pile of others and popped the lid to find a stock of sticky, amber candy that smelled spicy but instantly quelled the rolling waves in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed a few, tucking them into her handkerchief and into her pocket before turning back to thank the man only to find him halfway up the stairs. 

“You better hurry, the Kapitan is coming.” 

Sturmhond. 

She watched as the helpful, slightly irritating deck hand stripped from his dusty moth eaten jacket and hat, parading into the sunlight. The tight brown suspenders dug into his shoulder blades and rumpled the white tunic that was tucked into his trousers as he spun to stand next to Tolya and Tamar. The most famous Shu twins in Grisha legend. Zrina could barely believe she was sharing a deck with them, let alone the sky. 

She found an open spot towards the center of the deck and walked towards it. She stood tall, chin up, shoulders pinned back as her mother would always tell her to do. No matter how in awe she was that she was in fact part of something this magnificent. No matter how hard her heart was beating in her ears, and Saints now it was looking for a way straight out of her chest. She stood tall. Like she belonged wherever she was, because she did. 

As she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve in an effort to focus on something other than the nerves going haywire in her body, a ruckus of boots stomping and whistles from the crew broke her way sending the focus of her vision forward where she was met with a pair of curious, iridescent eyes looking back. 

It’s him. 

At the ship’s bridge stood the illustrious Sturmhond. A tall man whose broad shoulders were squared in a commanding presence but his face held an entirely different air. Not that it commanded any less attention but he had a calm, almost serene look in his blue eyes and a satisfied smile accompanying it. She took a deep breath as he held Zrina’s gaze softly almost like he was studying her.

After lingering on her eyes for a while, his eyes, which were the same color of the water surrounding them, wandered further down until halting on the muted cherry color of her lips. 

"Tell me, fair one, what is your name?" His voice carried through the winds as he addressed her.

"Z-zrina, K-apitan." The tremble in her voice broke the words apart as it wreaked over the rest of her body with a visible shiver that didn't go unnoticed. A small semblance of a smile formed on his lips.

"Kapitan Nikolai Lantsov." His arm stretched out and moved with fluid motion as a sign of welcome. 

“Zrina’s our new squaller, Kapitan,” the snarky grisha from before interjected.

“Thank you Delyan, but I’m sure she’s more than capable of speaking for herself,” the Kapitan smirked, throwing a wink towards Zrina.

She nodded and kept her tall stance but inside, Zrina’s stomach roiled and she wished she could sneak another piece of ginger.

“We weigh anchor in ten minutes,” Kapitan Lantsov commanded and then fixed his intense gaze on Zrina. “Our new squaller can take us up.”

As he turned and stalked off towards the stern Zrina stared numbly at the platform where the squallers stood when steering the ship. She could do this, at least, that’s what she tried to convince herself.

Ten minutes seemed like no time at all before Zrina found herself standing on the wooden platform fighting the urge to pick at the cuffs of her kefta. She felt as if every single pair of eyes on the entire ship were upon her and she clenched her toes in her boots in an attempt to stop her knees from trembling.

She caught the piercing gaze of the Kapitan, who nodded once, and so she raised her hands and opened her palms. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, raising her palms higher. At the sound of whispers and even a few titters she opened her eyes again. The ship hadn’t moved.

“Saints,” she swore under her breath, her eyes dropping from the limp sails to the toes of her boots as she wiggled out the tension in her fingers before taking one more deep breath and readying her hands again. 

When she looked up her eyes connected with his but this time she didn’t close them, instead she let herself get lost there. The blue in his eyes reminded her of the open sky on her face, swirling and brushing around her like she was a bird in the clouds. 

Just as the wind tickled her fingertips and rushed through her kefta whispers of mockery floated around her, “razrusha’ya,” they said. And maybe they were right, maybe she was ruined. She couldn’t even lift a sail, she could barely muster enough wind to ruffle her hair. 

“If you can’t do it, otkazat'sya, get down and let a real Grisha try,” Jadran hissed from his station below her, his dark brown eyes looked at her with disgust until Toyla spun, accidentally, slapping the Grisha in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. The commotion giving Zrina enough time to climb down from her post and offer it up to the next willing. 

She stared down at her hands with tears in her eyes, “why don’t you work?” She breathed out the words in a feeble attempt to stay quiet and calm. 

She could feel the stare of Korol Rezni on her as the ship raised through the air and joined the clouds. He watched her carefully as she moved around the ship, helping with tasks and struggling to fit in. Lanstov studied her with knitted brows and a tender smirk as she got down on her knees to help scrub the deck. 

All the while Zrina waited for him to throw her overboard for being useless. What good was a squaller who couldn’t summon the wind? 

She tried so hard but his presence, although not menacing, intimidated her.

"Zrina." She heard him call. Her back stiffened as she got up from her knees to address him.  

"I think we start you slow so you can learn the ropes. Finish the deck, get you some food and once the sun sets, the night shift awaits you." that playful, boyish smile returned to his lips as his eyes lingered on her face a little while longer. 

She didn't quite understand the softness he presented to her but she would be lying if it didn’t make her a little glad that she is getting to stay on the ship.

Zrina pressed her lips into a thin line, and nodded once, “Thank you, Kapitan.” She kept her eyes on him as she took two steps backwards before turning on her heel and heading over to help with ensuring everything on deck was secure. 

She was in a battle with herself in her head, cursing her abilities for proving the other grisha right about her. Embarrassment at how she looked in front of the crew and her new Kapitan. The bustling bodies around her as everyone worked didn’t phase her in the slightest. All she could focus on was the fact that night would come soon enough, and then it was all up to her. 

With an exasperated grunt, Zrina tied a tight knot in the last lifeline, tugging tightly and subconsciously taking out some of her anger. The words of the other Grisha danced through her head and it wasn’t until a heavy chuckle came from beside her that her eyes finally looked up from where she was working. “What did that rope ever do to you?” Tolya teased, crossing his arms over his chest with a playful smirk on his lips. 

Zrina cleared her throat and shook her head, “I - I was just making sure it was secure,” 

“Don’t let them get to you,” Tamar chimed in, hopping up on a barrel and rolling her eyes, “Some crew members like to forget that they were new to this too at one point.” 

Zrina felt a little of the tension drain from her shoulders and she let out a sigh. They were right, she knew that, but hearing those words that she’d heard all her life thrown at her in such an important moment had shaken her badly.

“Look, you interviewed for this commission, right?” Tamar asked and Zrina nodded her head in confirmation.  “Exactly, so you were chosen out of all the others who interviewed too.  You’ve got something that they didn’t have and I think you’re right where you’re meant to be.”

Zrina felt the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth and Tolya didn’t miss it either.

“Is that…is that a smile I see?” He teased, making Zrina chuckle.  “There she is. Look, new girl, you’re on the night shift so take that as a grand opportunity.  There’ll be practically no-one around so you can practice to your heart’s content, build your confidence. You’ll be back on the day before you know it.  Might even be given your own ship.”

He nudged her shoulder with a twinkle in his eye and Zrina managed a laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” Tamar joined in, “and if anyone says anything else just remember you have as much right to be here as they do.”

Tamar slipped back off the barrel and clapped Zrina on the back before turning with Tolya and the pair of them sauntered off to the aft of the ship, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.

After a meal of biscuits and stew, Zrina returned to her bunk and tried to rest before dark but sleep eluded her.  She tossed and turned, her anxiety rising yet again, and she found herself staving off tears more than once.  She was almost relieved when darkness finally fell and so she slipped from her bunk, refilled her stash of ginger pieces, and headed up on deck.

“Don’t ground us, otkazat'sya,” Delyan hissed as she stepped up to take his place on the platform.

Zrina threw him a blank look but it was hidden in the dim light from the few lanterns scattered about.  The deck was blissfully quiet, although she knew there must be lookouts aloft, and she waited until Delyan was below deck before she raised her palms and felt for the wind.

It came easily this time, that tingling rush of power, and a breeze whipped around the bottom of her kefta.  Zrina raised her face to the sky, beaming in relief and she twirled on the spot, laughing breathlessly as her wind played through her long dark waves, lifting the strands in a chestnut halo around her head.

Someone clapped softly from behind her, “marvelous.” 

The Kapitan stepped forward into the long wispy strands of the moonlight, his eyes turned up toward the billowing sails in awe. “I knew you had it in you.” He said. 

“Thank you sir,” Zrina nodded, all of the confidence rushing from her the moment his glassy eyes flickered down to her. 

“Ah,” he huffed with a nod. The corner of his lips curling to the side, “under the scorching heat of the sun I am Kapitan, King, Sturmhond, handsome, daring, brave,” he laughed into the empty night sky with a smile on his face that warmed her cheeks. “But here with only the stars as my audience, I am simply Nikolai for they do not care that I am handsome and charming.” Zrina nodded uncomfortably with the idea of not addressing him by his title. “I must apologize for this morning, I suppose the nerves took hold of me.” She said, still concentrating on her fingers and how the power vibrated through them, calling to the wind so naturally. 

“I would like a word with whoever taught you that you are less than magical,” his smile fell but his eyes reflected the constellations back at her. He stripped from his jacket, letting the cool air nip at the bare skin that lay beneath his loose white shirt as he walked toward her. He carried the air of a Saint, suffocatingly impressive but all the while, still just a man in awe of science and magic. “I have always been jealous of Grisha.”

“You, jealous?” Zrina scoffed before she could stop herself from being so impolite to her King, her Kapitan. 

“Such an undesirable trait, I am aware.” He rolled up the sleeves of his billowy shirt and put his hands on his hips, staring at the sails again. “I used to stand on the balcony that overlooked parts of the little palace, sneaking away from my studies,” he looked at her over his shoulder. “I stood there until my tutors caught me, waving my hands around like a fool trying to learn the magic that could not be taught.” 

"On this ship, your magic is a blessing. I won't tolerate anyone that tells you otherwise, Zrina." Nikolai took a few sure steps towards her, the heat in her cheeks coloring them in a rosy tint. 

Even under the few stars and the moon shining onto them he noticed the way she reacted to his compliments. 

"Look at that, I like that beautiful blush on your skin, milaya."  

Zrina felt the heat spread through her body, failing to distinguish if this was her being intimidated by his presence or something else entirely. Something she never felt before. 

She felt the wind drop a little and shook herself, reaffirming her grip on her power despite the Kapitan’s distracting presence.

“Sorry,” she grimaced, knowing he’d noticed the change in their flight.

“No apologies necessary,” he smiled warmly.  “We’re in no rush to get to our destination, and night flying is designed to be a little less…taxing.”

He reached upwards, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his neck before doing the last thing that Zrina would ever have imagined. With a boyish twinkle in his eye he plopped himself down on the edge of the platform and leaned back on his hands with a satisfied sigh.

“You don’t mind if I stay here for a while do you?” He asked, tilting his head back to look up at her.  “It’s a nice night but I don’t want to disturb your work.”

“I…I mean…” Zrina flushed as she fumbled for words.  “It’s your ship Kapitan. You may do as you wish.”

Nikolai raised his eyebrow and his lip quirked up in a cheeky smirk.

“No!” Zrina answered quickly.  “No, I do not mind.”

With an amused hum, Nikolai turned his attention back to the skies, kicking his legs like a satisfied child as he sat on the edge of the platform.

They stayed in silence like that for a while and slowly Zrina grew used to his presence.  The slight shuffling noises and quiet sighs he let out became a comfort to her as she worked, although it no longer felt like work to command the wind to propel the ship.  It was there in her mind, as if it always had been, and she found she no longer had to concentrate on that one task.  As her mind began to wander she maintained that hold on her power and the ship continued to fly ever onwards.

“Ahem,” Nikolai cleared his throat in an unsubtle way of getting her attention and Zrina barely hid her smile.

“Yes Kapitan?”

“Are you due for a break? From the passage of the stars across the skies I am sure that you have worked long enough for a respite.”

“Perhaps,” Zrina replied.  “But I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“Shut up and sit down here,” he laughed, patting the platform next to him.

She smiled fully then and when he saw it his face lit up with joy.  Zrina clambered down and perched next to him, her hands in her lap and her crossed ankles swinging gently.  Nikolai turned and sucked in a breath as if to speak but then paused.  Tilting his head to the side he stared at her curiously, and then up at the sails that were still full of wind.

“The ship’s still flying,” he observed.

“Yes.”

“But you’re sat here.”

“You noticed that hmm?” She teased a little.

“Clever little squaller,” Nikolai said with amazement.  “I knew there was something different about you.”

Zrina giggled, and turned her gaze up to the sky with a wide smile on her face. It was still a little surreal to her that she was actually on this ship as one of the main squallers, and now in charge of flying them through the stars. It was something her little self had only dreamt of when she started training. The words of the other crew members drifted from her mind as she let herself take in this moment and enjoy the view before them. She sighed happily and shook her head once, “Saints, it is beautiful isn’t it? I mean, I’m sure you’re used to it by now but -” 

“Believe me, I can still be amazed by beauty,” Nikolai replied, quieter than she was expecting. Turning her head, she caught his blue eyes glancing over her with a soft smile tugging at his lips. A swarm of butterflies fluttered deep in her stomach as a blush took over her cheeks. Zrina thanked the Saints that it was dark enough and hoped he couldn’t see how his words had gotten to her. She felt a little embarrassed assuming it was her that he was talking about, but the slight twinkle in his gaze held her there in hope for a moment before she looked back down to her hands in her lap. “I’m sure you can, Kapitan,” Zrina finally replied, smiling over to him, “Can I ask you a question?” Nikolai hummed, looking out onto the deck as a playful look took over his face, “I suppose so,” he teased. 

"What was your first journey like?" Her words came out with a little stutter as the reaction he evoked in her body was distracting her train of thought.

"It was terrible. Let's just say I had a similar experience to you. As a Kapitan you have so much responsibility and I wanted to prove myself to this crew. It got the best of me."

His voice got quieter towards the end, making Zrina search his eyes in the imminent darkness of the night.

"It's hard to believe with the ease that you command this ship, Kapitan Lantsov." 

"Ahhh, milaya. Thank you for the sweet words." 

He watched her for a second longer, surely observing the reaction his words caused in her and his face lit up, almost delighted to find that beautiful rosy color returning on her fair skin. It filled him with a sense of pride that he has the honor of watching this beautiful woman flustered with his words. 

They must have sat there for an hour or more, each of them sharing stories with the other.  Zrina had never felt more comfortable with someone and gradually the charming Kapitan broke down her defenses and she found herself sharing more of her childhood than she ever had before.

It was during a lull in their conversation that Zrina’s stomach let out a loud growl and Nikolai burst into peals of laughter at her flushed cheeks as she clutched an embarrassed hand over her abdomen.

“I see I am failing in my duties tonight,” he chuckled, “for I have allowed you to go hungry and the great Sturmhond has a reputation to uphold. He may be fearsome but he always makes sure his crew are fed, watered, and warm.”

Nikolai patted Zrina’s knee in a comradely gesture meant to comfort.

“Wait here but a moment.”

She watched curiously as he hopped off the platform and, with a wide grin over his shoulder, disappeared down one of the staircases that led off the poop deck. She heard a door close and then, not five minutes later, it opened again and a voice called up to her.

“Hie little squaller, I’ve secured us a feast!”

Zrina smiled and pulled her bottom lip through her teeth as she remembered what Nikolai had said about magic.  With a deep breath and raised palms she searched for her power.  Straight away she felt the draw on it from the wind in the sails but she ignored that part and focused on a single tendril which she encouraged to grow stronger and thicker, forming a net of air.  In her mind’s eye she envisioned the net being cast and wrapping around the Kapitan, who was now setting foot on the stairs back up to the poop deck.  She wrapped that net around him tightly and tugged, so hard that he lost his grip on the railing.

She laughed out loud at the very un-royal squawk that left Nikolai’s lips as he found himself being raised off the ground supported by a cushion of air.  His consternation did not last long however, for he caught sight of Zrina and knew it was her doing.  To her surprise and delight the dreaded Sturmhond spread his arms wide and leaned back into her net, trusting completely that she would not let him fall.

Something twisted then, inside her heart, and she lifted him further, bringing him level with the deck.  She bounced him a few times and the giggles that left his mouth sounded so innocent and fun-filled that she could not help laughing alongside him. When his boots finally found the deck she was met with the biggest smile she had ever seen. 

“That was incredible,” he looked around in awe. “And it just comes from you,” he rushed to her, cupping her face in his hands, “do you understand how incredible you are?” 

Zrina swallowed tightly her only thoughts on how close Nikolai’s face was to hers and how his fingers felt against her skin. Being incredible was the last thing on her mind as the smell of sweat and cinnamon filled her nose. 

“I apologize,” he whispered, his mouth so close to her face that she could feel his sweet breath on her bottom lip. “Toyla tells me regularly that I am too much for the common person to handle and I fear that I have overstepped by touching you.” He peeled his fingers away. 

“Tell me then how can I be incredible and common?” She teased staring up at him as he straightened his posture. 

“Perhaps not so common then,” he brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear and collected the food that he had dropped. He piled the bread and fruit between them, showing it off with the utmost of pride. 

“Apples,” she gasped, grabbing the red fruit and bringing it to her nose to smell it. 

Nikolai watched her, his blue eyes growing big with happiness as she savored the fruit, “had I expected this reaction to an apple I would have brought the barrel up.” 

“I believe it would have gained you points on being the most thoughtful Kapitan,” she said shyly.

Zrina took a bite out of the fresh apple, some of the juice escaping down her mouth. Nikolai stepped closer and slid his thumb over her chin picking up the remaining apple juice, “I am not just Kapitan to you, milaya. Or, at least, that’s not what I want to be.”

She stared at him, looking a bit confused, “Then what are you, if not that?”

Nikolai shrugged and continued to move his thumb in a lazy circular motion. Gazing into her eyes he said, “That remains to be seen, little squaller.” He said, with a small smile and a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he knew something she was not aware of.

Zrina wasn’t expecting the sweet gesture, so instead of reacting like any normal person she startled and let the control of her magic slip. Suddenly Nikolai is knocked down and she is standing there, not knowing if she should laugh or apologize. She didn’t anticipate her magic reacting that way. Usually, her magic doesn’t react at all when she is presented with situations where she can get easily flustered or anxious.   

As she was debating what to do and what to say, she heard Nikolai say, “I see I overstepped once again,” laughing as if she didn’t just knock him down unintentionally, that is.

“Saints! I didn’t mean to do that,” she said with a giggle while trying to help him get up.

“Intentionally or not, it was rather funny. I don’t get many opportunities to laugh and be carefree anymore,” he said with a far away look in his eyes. In that moment she wondered what made him think that he can’t laugh or feel joy, when everyone should have that in their lives. 

“Well, I hope to be bearer of more joyful moments lapushka Nikolai,” her last words came out but a whisper and she swallowed thickly, hoping she was not overstepping at the use of them towards the King of Ravka, “if you so wish, of course.” Zrina let her gaze fall to the wooden deck below them unwilling to hold his gaze out of fear of what his answer might be, whether it be a positive response or a negative one because she truly didn’t know how she would handle either. 

She once more felt the tingle of his skin pressed against hers as he tucked his forefinger under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. His blue eyes shone brightly under the moonlight more than the stars themselves, a content look in his eyes as he smiled tenderly. “Moya milaya, I think you know the answer to that. I can only beg the Saints to let me have as many as I can, for as long as you’ll allow me.” His voice drew goose bumps all over her body and his honest admission flowed like molten heat, setting her ablaze from the inside. Her breath hitched and a small whimper whispered into the dark sky peppered with a million and one stars as he lifted his other hand to carefully move the loose strand of hair from her usual tidily made braid and tucked it behind her ear so delicately, like she was made of the most precious material he ever seen.

“What is happening here?” She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Something that I hope will continue,” Nikolai whispered back, a soft smile on his lips.

A light breeze picked up and swirled gently around them, lifting up more tendrils of Zrina’s hair, which Nikolai tried to tame as he had the first.  His efforts were in vain though, for the more he tried, the more strands the breeze took hold of.

“Milaya I think that is all you,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” Zrina replied lowering her gaze as a bashful flush painted her cheeks.

“There is no need for apologies,” he countered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.  “The fact that you can do that at all is a marvel and I feel blessed that I am that much of a distraction to you,” he chuckled quietly.

To Zrina’s surprise she felt him press a gentle kiss against her hair and warmth blossomed within her chest. Again a warm breeze brushed through their coats and caused Zrina to shrink within the warm fur collar. Nikolai turned a set of bright blue eyes on her, his smirk producing the most devilish of dimples.

“You are like the mood rings they sell at the market, the wind changes with your smile.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip and it made every muscle in her body warm. “Curious,” he laughed leaning forward. 

“Don’t keep secrets,” Zrina was brave enough to chirp. 

“I just wonder how the wind would react,” he brushed his nose against hers and his breath fanned over her upper lip. “Zrina, would you be greatly opposed to a kiss because knowing how you react when I do feels pivotal to our adventure and of course for science.” He added like it might quell the nervous fireworks that seemed to fire off in her chest. 

“For the science,” she mumbled as he brought his lips closer. 

Nikolai wasted not a second for her to change her mind before he cupped her face in his large hand and pulled her chin to meet him. Their lips slotted together with delicate care as his fingers tangled into her wild hair and the wind pushed them up from the bench they were seated on. Nikolai giggled against her mouth as he deepened the kiss, needy for more as she let herself feel every spark of excitement he created. 

“I very much like science Nikolai,” Zrina giggled as he reluctantly pulled away. 

“Perhaps as much as I like your lips,” he stole another kiss and Zrina leaned into him as he pulled back. “Would you mind?” he laughed, looking nervously to the deck they floated above. 

“Oh!” Zrina looked around them and noticed that they were in fact floating and it wasn’t just her imagination. “If this happened because of a single kiss, I wonder what would happen if it’s more than that,” she said with a nervous laugh. Her abilities were acting strange. She didn’t remember the wind being this powerful. Interesting development, indeed.

“Let’s see if I can bring us down,” she mumbled while trying to concentrate on not just snuffing out her wind all together and making them fall.

“What do you mean?” Nikolai asked nervously.

“Well, I’ve never done this before and I need to concentrate on not letting us fall. It looks like it will hurt if I do,” Zrina was trying not to laugh at the situation they found themselves in. 

Tilting his head, Nikolai smiled, "I trust you.'' 

Zrina closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Thoughts of her Kapitan’s kiss stained lips moved like a film through her mind; calming it and bringing her focus back to where it needed to be. 

She took in a soft breath through her nose, holding it for a second before blowing it through her lips. Zrina could feel Nik’s eyes watching her as the two of them started descending back down to the wooden deck below. While the whole situation still kept the butterflies fluttering around in her belly, for some reason, with this version of him beside her, she felt like she could accomplish anything. 

When they were safely back down on the deck, Zrina took in one more deep breath, focusing her wind back upwards into the sails with a satisfied grin tugging at her lips. 

“That’s my girl,” Nikolai whispered from beside her, brushing his fingertips lightly across her cheek. 

A soft chuckle escaped her, and Zrina leaned into his hand, bringing her eyes back to find his blue ones watching her carefully. 

“Do you think if we tried that again you may be able to keep our feet on the deck?” He teased, the fingers of his other hand entwining with hers.

“Perhaps we should sit first,” she giggled, “just in case.”

They sank back to their previous perches on the edge of the platform although this time there was far less distance between them.  Nikolai toyed with Zrina’s hand, turning it this way and that, gently twisting their fingers together before untangling them once more.

“Tell me, little squaller, what does it feel like to hold the power to command the air?” He said softly, his eyes still fixed on their joined hands.

Zrina thought for a moment before raising his hand to face her, steadying it with one hand whilst she scraped a fingernail heavily over his palm and fingers, tracing patterns.  His fingers twitched and he instinctively tried to pull away but then settled, watching intently as she continued to draw shapes against his skin.

“Like that,” she said.  “A tingle but more, it is an urge, a necessity.  I could no more deny it than I could deny…the need to breathe!”

The sails on the ship billowed a little stronger in response to her words drawing both of their attention and Zrina chuckled sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“That is something else you need to stop,” Nikolai said, retrieving his hand and nudging her shoulder.  “There is no need for apologies on my ship.”

“Sor-“ she began but stopped herself at his raised eyebrow.  “It is a hard habit to break.”

“Perhaps an incentive might work?  For every hour you refrain from saying sorry you can have an extra apple in your rations.” He declared smugly.

“How about a kiss instead?” Zrina blurted before slapping her hand over her mouth and flushing as red as the apples she loved.

“Oh ho!” Nikolai laughed, his eyes twinkling with amused delight. “My bold little squaller. Those you can have for free.”

Her eyes fluttered as he brushed his nose against hers but instead of granting her another kiss, his teeth sunk into the flesh of her apple. She gasped, laughter trickling from her lips as he finally stole her breath and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to her mouth. 

“You can have whatever you wish Zrina, just ask,” he said as he pulled away. His blue eyes were more serious than before. She felt the warmth from his words blossom in his chest but he still seemed so sad and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked. 

 “Of course not.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s just a feeling that plagues me in the quiet hours.”

“Is that why you are awake?”

“I hardly sleep anymore,” he answered, his brows kissing together. “The war is over,” he whispered to the clouds, “and yet-” he stopped again, choking on the words he meant to say out loud. “Zrina, is it silly to be more afraid of being King than I am fighting or flying?” He turned to her, the confident king gone from his gaze leaving behind the quiet, fearful puppy prince. 

“Fear does not care if you are a king, Nikolai.” Zrina whispered, tangling her fingers into the loose opening of his tunic softly. 

“Do not tell my advisors that,” he offered her a sad chuckle. 

“You are already twice the man that the old king wished to be,” she said, “perhaps he was not afraid enough, too confident in his prejudice and laws. Perhaps what Ravka needs is a king afraid of failing, a king who walks with his fear instead of wielding it to harm others beneath him.”

He stared at her for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth upturned and the dimple returned to his cheek. She thought for a second she may have spoken too brazenly with her king but he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers and drew out a lazy kiss from her mouth as his hand slipped to rest around the base of her throat. 

“Thank you,” he whispered in retreat. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Zrina shrugged, “It’s just words, but people often forget how powerful words can be. If I would have been surrounded by people that didn’t make me feel ashamed of feeling scared of doing something, I think I would’ve been a different person now,” Zrina knows how much the feeling of being afraid has influenced her life and knowing that someone so brilliant and strong as him is afraid of doing something makes her feel less alone.

“You speak as you know how it feels like. Tell me little squaller, what are you afraid of?” he asked bemused. 

“Everyone is afraid of something, I guess,” she answered sleepily. The excitement of the day had finally got to her. “Don’t let people fool you into believing that they have it all figured it out when in reality they don’t,” Zrina was mumbling at this point. She didn’t even know if she was making sense or not.

“Fine way of not answering the question. Very well, I guess I’ll get that answer some other day,” he said chuckling. 

A small smile tugged at her lips, “Do not worry, Kapitan. We will continue this conversation later… after some sleep. I can barely keep my thoughts straight.”

She started to get up, but he held onto her arm, stopping her. Zrina looked back at him, a question written on her face. “Would you stay here with me?”

“What? Sleep outside on the deck?” she asked, a little confused. “What if we get cold?”

Nikolai had a wicked glint in his eyes, “I can keep you warm.” 

Zrina rolled her eyes and chuckled, “Be serious! I want to sleep.” 

He continued looking at her, the playful glint in his eyes was now gone and replaced with a much softer gaze, “Yes, I want us to sleep on the deck. I want to show you something and I fear that if we go below deck, we might miss it.”

“What is it that you want to show me,” curiosity got the best of her. 

“The reason why I like to stay up every night.”

“And what reason would be so important as to keep the great Sturmhond from his bed?” Zrina asked.

“Stay with me and find out,” he insisted as a charming smile bloomed across his face.

A fizz of nervous excitement grew in her belly as Zrina regarded the handsome Kapitan.  She had overcome so many of her fears today that she may as well continue with another.

“Alright,” she murmured, nervously tucking her hands up into the sleeves of her kefta.

The beam of joy that came from Nikolai made her heart soar and she was utterly grateful for the courage she’d found that made her say yes.  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest as he settled them both against the side of the platform and then bent his head down to give her one more sweet kiss.  She could feel his hum of delight as she nuzzled deeper against him.  As their breathing grew deeper and more steady, just beginning to take on the rhythm of sleep she murmured against his chest.

“Everything.”

“Hmm?” he responded sleepily.

“I was afraid of everything,” she whispered, but there on the deck, as Nikolai tightened his arms reassuringly around her, Zrina found herself unable to be afraid of anything at all.

A flutter across her cheek and then the softest whisper against her lips pulled Zrina slowly from her slumber.  Her mouth curved into a soft smile as her eyes opened and found herself staring into the ocean blue gaze of the Kapitan.  He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his lips, kissing her gently once, and then a second time before returning her smile with his own.

“Good morning, Milaya,” he rumbled, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Is it?” Zrina asked, for the sky was still mostly dark.

“Almost,” he said, bumping his nose against hers and chuckling low in his throat.  “I would like to share this moment with you, if I can.”

Unwrapping his arms from around her he rose to his feet and held out his hand.  She took it gladly, allowing him to pull her up and lead her over to the starboard rail.  He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her once more as they took in the sky that began to lighten in the east.

“Watch this,” he murmured in her ear before resting his head against hers.

Zrina placed her hands atop his, lacing their fingers together as the sky began to grow brighter along the horizon.  The scattering of clouds below them remained dark islands in a midnight sea and then suddenly there was a blinding flash of brilliant white as the sun made its first appearance of the brand new day.  The sky flowed rapidly into an ombre of blues, whilst the clouds began to glow orange and the world below looked as if it were on fire.

Zrina could not stop the tears that tracked down her cheeks at the sheer beauty of it all.  She tightened her grip on Nickolai’s hands, fearful that she may get swept away by the intensity of her emotions.

“Nikolai,” she gasped in awe, unable to articulate the experience.

“I know, Milaya, I know,” he crooned in her ear, fully remembering how it felt to see this wonder for the first time.

Zrina turned slightly, her eyes darting between his face and the wondrous sunrise.  He was bathed in a golden hue, looking every inch the king that he was, but the smile he wore was just for her.  He raised his hand to her face and brushed away a tear gently with his thumb and she tilted her face up to him, going up onto her toes to press her lips against his.  He tasted of sunshine, and new beginnings. “I have never shared this wonder with anyone before,” he murmured when Zrina finally pulled away, “but I would share each and every other sunrise with you, Zrina.”

“It would be my honor, Nikolai,” she whispered back and he pressed another kiss to her lips before they turned once again to face the growing daylight together.