#nikolai lantsov my beloved
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Still be here in the morning?
Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader
Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*
Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D
It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.
You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.
"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.
"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.
"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"
"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."
"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"
"I'm aware."
"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."
"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."
"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"
Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"
You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."
"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."
"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."
After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.
To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.
He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.
A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.
"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.
"What do you want, Mouse?"
"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."
"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."
"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.
"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.
"Make me."
"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.
"I said, make me, Lantsov."
"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.
Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.
"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.
"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.
"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."
Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.
"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.
Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."
He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.
He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.
He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."
His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.
Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.
Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."
"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.
He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.
Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.
Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.
"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.
Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.
You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.
You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.
Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.
"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.
His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.
"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"It's stupid."
"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.
"Why would I be mad?"
"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.
"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"
"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.
You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"
You shook your head.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded your head.
"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"
You hesitated.
"Well, we've found our problem."
"You don't love me."
"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.
"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."
"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.
You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"
"Honey, you drive me wild."
You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.
You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.
A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."
You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.
fin.
#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov#netflix shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov being kind#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov x you#no y/n#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fanfic#nikolai x reader#siege and storm#nikolai lantsov imagine#shadow and bone x reader
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"Man of Faith" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader
SUMMARY: With the Sun Summoner on board, Stumhond's attention seems to be captivated by the living Saint. While you know how important she is to him in terms of politics, you can't help but start to feel jealous. Nikolai, however, stays true to his only faith.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<
The night breeze feels cold when it brushes against your cheeks. Although you feel an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine, the chilly air is refreshing, revitalizing. Salty ocean water sprays your skin as the ship lazily cuts through the endless waters. Swooshing of the heavy waves hitting the vessel and the drawn-out creaking of boards interrupt the otherwise silent hours. The black, starry sky is reflecting in the equally black waters, making it hard to say where lies the horizon - firmament glistens both above your head and beneath your feet.
Leaning against the railing, you allow yourself a sigh of defeat. You shake your head at the bitter, lead-like weight in your abdomen. This phantom has refused to let you go ever since the Sun Summoner boarded the ship but it’s hardly her fault. Truly, it’s not His fault either, even if he’s part of your problem, following her around and eagerly asking every question that came to his mind. It’s like you’re not here at all, you think to yourself but quickly discard this awful idea with a shake of your head.
No matter how much you refuse to admit it, you’re jealous. In your mind, it’s very logical and rational to get neurotic - he’s an heir to the throne, she’s the Sun Summoner and you… are a pirate. Although your lovesick heart is defending Nikolai with all its might, your sensibility is feeding you a plethora of horrible scenarios that, to some degree, you’re aware are not very probable. Still, they’re not impossible.
You rub your face in a vain attempt to calm yourself down and gain control over your emotions. This is stupid. He’s just interested in an interesting person, nothing beyond that. All of the flustering, and frankly embarrassing, confessions of love he’s given you, can’t just be undone in two days… can they?
The sound of slow footsteps distracts you from your spiralling thoughts. You turn around only to see the man you’ve been agonizing over as though one of the Saints had heard you and, out of annoyance rather than goodwill, sent him your way to clear this perplexing misunderstanding. His blond locks float on the gusts of cold breeze. There’s an undeniable softness to his expression, even if his eyebrows raise slightly in worry. Despite the overwhelming darkness of the night on the open ocean, he looks nothing short of breathtaking.
And you, through unimaginable luck, are the only thing that steals his breath.
"I was looking for you,” he says in a gentle voice. Jealousy mixes with guilt and shame inside you - Nikolai probably thinks something serious happened but no, it’s you getting into your own head.
"Something's the matter?" you deflect his inquiry.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you that.” Nikolai leans on his elbow on the railing, his torso turned towards you. He’s standing close enough for his frock coat to brush against you - it’s smooth and velvety, as though water could be sawn into a garment. “You seemed upset earlier."
"Oh, it's nothing, really.” You dismiss him with a vague wave of your hand. “Don't worry."
Nikolai lets out a short sigh. He takes off his coat and puts it around your shoulders. "I always worry about you,” he says as he’s casually fixing the jacket to cover most of your body.
The familiar scent fills your nostrils immediately. Perhaps it’s the additional layer of clothing or his hand resting on your lower back that’s making you warm up significantly. In any event, his overwhelming presence, engulfing you in an embrace of comfort and security, momentarily shakes you sober from your grim thoughts. Like having a bucket of cold water thrown at your head, you’re wondering how you could ever question his devotion.
“A treasure?” Nikolai repeats after the old whaler. The stench of booze is surrounding the retired, one-eyed sailor like a hallucinogenic aura. “I’ve already found her, thank you.”
Doubt, however, is a relentless beast. Maybe you’ve been the recipient of his affection simply by a chance of convenience? You’ve always been there, waiting for Nikolai to pay you attention. But then you inhale again, the scent of resin and seaweed filling your nostrils, and the doubt vanishes once more as the fog does in the early morning hours.
"This is going to sound really stupid and selfish,” you confess.
"I want to hear it anyway."
Nikolai’s hand reaches for yours, fingers intertwining without either of you thinking about it. His thumb is gently rubbing circles into your skin. Some reflexes are scratched into bones, escaping human willingness.
“It’s just…” You cut yourself off before you can finish. Embarrassed at what you’re about to tell him, you look away, admiring the faraway stars reflecting off the black water. In an unconscious motion, Nikolai cranes his neck to try and see more of your face. “Ever since Alina boarded the ship, you’ve been quite preoccupied with her and I… I think I’ve grown used to having your undivided attention. For the most part, at least. And that made me wonder whether I’m underwhelming compared to the Sun Summoner herself.”
Finally, you dare look back towards him. As you could have expected, he looks just as lovestruck as he usually does - not a wrinkle suggests that he’s angry with you for making a show of your jealousy or doubting his devotion. In fact, that upturned corner of his mouth makes him look genuinely amused with this course of events. Somewhere during your circular way of expressing envy, he only heard you admit how much you yearn for his attention.
"You thought I'm more interested in Alina Starkov than you?" he asks, laughter hiding inside his voice. "Hey, look at me.” Nikolai lifts his hand to your cheek, first brushing his finger against your skin before his whole palm cups your face. "I would have to lose my damn mind and even then I'd fall in love with you again if you just glanced in my direction."
“I know how important she is to you, Коля," you whisper, nervous that someone might pick up on the secret only you've been privy to so far. It nearly escapes your attention that his smile grows a little hearing you say his name. “It’s not your fault I’m being a little selfish. I just need to get a grip. You really shouldn’t worry.”
Nikolai’s hand drops from your face to hold your hand again. He brings your fingers to his lips, placing a soft kiss on them. It’s tender, like everything else he does towards you. Sometimes you wonder whether this gentleness is a conscious choice or if he’s physically incapable of directing any harshness at you.
"I could have an army of Sun Summoners and you’d still be the only Saint I’m praying to day and night.”
You scoff at his cheesy poetics. Laughing to yourself, you shake your head at him. "Oh, please, there is nothing holy about me."
With the hand he’s been resting on your lower back Nikolai pulls you even closer to him. He lets go of your fingers, placing his free hand on the side of your head, forcing you to look at him - not that you have anything against doing so.
"I beg to differ,” he begins in a low, surprisingly serious voice. “Ever since I saw you for the first time, I can't think about anything else. I don't want to. When you’re not with me I can’t focus until I find you and when I do, I feel like nothing can stand in my way. I could lose everything but if you’re by my side, I know I’m saved.” Nikolai rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “You're the closest thing to godhood I've ever seen."
You inhale sharply suddenly feeling his warm lips against yours. His hands are pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss. It’s both loving and desperate as though he’s expecting you to vanish into thin air at any moment; like he can’t quite believe he has the rest of his life to adore you.
To your disappointment, Nikolai pulls away from you after a long while but keeps a rather impressive lack of distance as your noses brush against each other. In a breathy voice, he whispers:
"You're the only prayer I need to make me feel blessed."
“Just kiss me again, милый мой.”
A quiet chuckle leaves his lips. “As you wish.”
Without wasting time, he’s kissing you again - hungrily, feverishly, reluctantly pulling away every now and then to catch his breath, only to resume this consuming pastime with insatiable desire.
_____
Коля [ko-lya] - short for Nikolai
Милый мой [me-lee moy] - my darling (masculine)
#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x you#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai imagines#nikolai x reader#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#sturmhond#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov my beloved
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in the morning
Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader
Summary: a morning after scene from still be here in the morning?
Word Count: 407
Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also, the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*
The sound of seagulls woke you up. It was the first night in a while that you had slept so peacefully. You stirred, only to find yourself trapped under something heavy. An arm. Nikolai's arm. You smiled. He was still here in the morning.
You wiggled your way out of his arms, and threw on your clothes - you had to maintain some semblance of professionality. You placed a light kiss on his hairline and whispered your goodbyes before slipping out of his room.
You thought you'd got away but an arm slung over your shoulder told you otherwise. Tolya.
"Not a word. I don't want to hear it."
"I mean, I was going to say, 'good for you', but if you don't want to hear it, I won't say it." Tolya said, a grin plastered on his face. You nudged him in the ribs, before disappearing onto the deck. He muttered a curse word in Shu, before following you onto the deck.
Just when you thought you'd escaped the teasing, you bumped into someone else. They whistled. You groaned. Tamar. It was like you could never get away from the twins.
"Good for you, Mouse! You finally broke the Captain out of his celibacy streak!" Tamar laughed. At this rate, everyone and their ancestors would know you guys had slept together.
"How does it feel to be the first person he broke his rule for?"
"What rule?"
"The 'I don't sleep with crewmates' rule." You didn't even know that was a rule.
"I just have one question." Tolya perched himself against the railing of the stairs as you climbed up them to the wheel.
"I'm not telling you what he's like in bed."
"I just want to know who 'Nikolai is'." Your heart stopped.
"What did you say?"
"Who's Nikolai?" Tamar asked, joining in on the fun, "I mean, I hope the Captain was drunk enough that you didn't hurt his ego." Your face flushed red.
"He's no one. Nikolai's no one. Someone from back home." You were secretly glad that no one had caught on.
Well don't let the Captain hear you say that, Tamar stage whispered, pulling you into her side. You smiled at your secret. You heard boots behind you and whirled around - you hadn't heard Nikolai walk out on deck.
"Okay, Sailors. Everyone ready to move on?" Nikolai barked, his tone harsher than normal. Everyone looked at him confused. He looked fucking pissed.
fin.
buy me a coffee
#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov#netflix shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov being kind#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov x you#no y/n#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fanfic#nikolai x reader#siege and storm#nikolai lantsov imagine#shadow and bone x reader
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gardenias. | nikolai
part I
nikolai lantsov x reader
summary: the setting is a grand event hosted at os alta with the intention of finding a future queen for crown prince vasily. the reader is a merchant's daughter trying to keep a low profile after her parents had dragged her there (against her will) with the hopes that she might catch the prince's attention. she, on the other hand, has different plans. plans that get entirely upheaved by none other than the younger prince nikolai who interrupts her illicit late-night meeting in the winter garden. now she's caught attention of one of the two people whose scrutiny she'd been trying so hard to avoid for the last few days of the event and she's not entirely sure she actually minds it.
preview:
Irritated, she spun around and came up so close she could feel the wool of his uniform brush against her bodice as she glared up at him. "What now?"
"Now I'm thinking I should escort you to your room, just to make sure you don't accidentally commit some act of treason on your way to it."
"Is that what you think? That I'm planning some grand act of treason with Zaitsev?"
"You do have that look about you. A bit insolent, a bit treasonous."
She twisted her wrist in his hand as if to draw attention to it, jutting her chin out defiantly as she looked up at him. When she spoke she did her best to sound as smug and irritating as he did. "You like that, don't you?"
He made a soft tutting sound, looking deeply amused. "I do like you. That doesn't mean I trust you."
"That's--" she stuttered, torn between irritation and being caught off-guard by the matter-of-factness colouring his voice, "That's not what I meant."
"You're blushing again."
word count: 5k (i know. don't @ me)
tropes/warnings: not cannon, vasily's still alive, nikolai's kinda suspicious that y/n is about to commit some kind of treason and it's reflected in the way he acts, there is tension and innuendos though sljdf, y/n does get a bit upset/frustrated at one point, nikolai does apologise but does not back down from his plan to uncover her secrets bc where would the fun be in that, there is physical touch
a/n: i'm not going to lie to you, this is absolutely going to be a multi-part. i'm enjoying writing nikolai being a teasing menace far too much not to explore it further, and i think nikolai would be far too curious and fascinated by y/n to just let it go (and a bit worried about what she's up to). note that while this is their first time meeting there's still a lot of tension that will only continue to grow, so i hope you enjoy it!
The air inside the palace winter garden was laden with the scent of jasmine. There was an oppressiveness to it that stood in stark contrast with the fresh night air she'd come in from, leaving her heady and wondering if she might suffocate from it by the time the lieutenant arrived. That would be quite the sight - a page ripped out of a book of fairytales and brought to life, a pretty young thing laid peacefully amongst the blossoming flowers, caught in the last moment before the colour had drained out of her cheeks. She would lay out her arm like so, blue petals spilling out of her still fingers and... Ghezen. This place had a way of bringing out the morbid in her. Must be something about all the death imagery she'd sifted through earlier that day in the royal library - Ravkan stories certainly had a proclivity for martyred girls and their lovely, tragic endings. It did nothing but fortify her belief that breaking into the winter garden and hiding out had been a good idea. Y/N had no interest in actually experiencing martyrdom or tragic endings, thank you very much.
That is if one ignored the fact she was tempting fate by agreeing to an illicit meeting with a man her parents had most definitely not had in mind when they'd dragged her all the way to Ravka with them. A man who was distinctly late to said meeting. Y/N twisted the leaf she'd plucked from one of the bushes, her fingers sticky from where she'd crushed it and unsteady with the nervous sort of energy that accompanied late nights and ill-advised impulses. She'd already stood up and sat back down several times when the sound of a door opening interrupted her mid-movement and she slipped behind one of the stone columns that obscured her from view. The silence stretched for a long moment before the door clicked closed once more. The stone roses of the column were biting into the skin between Y/N's shoulderblades where she pressed herself against it as if she might blend into it by the sheer force of will. Another stretch of silence before the sound of a key turning in the lock made her start, her chest tightening. Silence. Whoever was there must've just noticed the door was left unlocked and decided to close it. Good. Y/N fingered the silver hairpin she'd used to break into the garden before pushing herself away from the column and slipping towards the glass door that led onto the palace grounds. She didn't want to risk anyone seeing her going back through the door that had just been locked.
"What's the rush?" A voice came from somewhere behind her. "You're missing all the flowers. Or is the collection not exotic enough for the refined tastes of a merchling princess?"
Y/N halted mid-step, her shoulders drawn taut as she went very, very still. This was not the lieutenant's voice - it was just a bit too silvery, too playful, too... refined in its accent. Not a native speaker, but a very well-educated one.
"I... the smell - it's overpowering."
A soft chuckle. "Perhaps the lady would find it less offensive if she came to visit the gardens during the day." There was a slight pause. She swore she could almost hear him smirk in the way his voice trailed off. "As most people do."
She still had her back turned to him, her head tipped slightly back to look up towards the glass ceiling as if she expected to find a solution or at least strength to deal with this up there. "You are here too, are you not?"
"Touche." He moved then, his steps loud against the marble floor but slow and languid, as if he were a predator stalking a fear-frozen doe in some rather exotic forest. He was much closer when he spoke this time. "But I like the smell. It's jasmine. Night-blooming jasmine to be specific. My mother's favourite."
Y/N did not see what was the relevance of his confession but she assumed he might be slightly more compliant with the whole keeping quiet about this business if she played along. "Does she garden?"
This made him laugh. It was a nice sort of laugh - the kind that belonged to someone intimately familiar with the sound, whose mouth had been made for laughing and who found her question infinitely amusing. "Saints, no. That would be quite the sight though - my mother with dirt-stained hands, taking care of a living thing."
Y/N did not respond. This sounded like a confession too, one she was not privy to. She felt like she was missing a puzzle piece. He waited in silence for a moment, and when she didn't answer she heard the rustle of fabric as he must have leaned against the column behind her. "Are you not going to turn around?"
"I was escaping, remember? It would be silly to show my face now when I still have a chance of getting away."
He made a noncommittal sound. "I didn't realise you were fleeing. Women don't tend to run away from me very often. How... thrilling."
Y/N almost snorted at this display of ego. She resigned herself to a sort of small, vague sound that could be left up to interpretation. "Are you going to stop me?"
"Would you like me to?" His voice had gone low and goading, but he never moved from his spot. It had occurred to her that it might be advisable to be more nervous about this strange man standing behind her, but this felt more like a game than a threat and Y/N couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.
"A thrilling proposition, but one I will have to refuse. Allegedly I'm a sensible creature, and none of this sounds very sensible."
"Neither does meeting Lieutenant Zaitsev in a winter garden at three in the morning, but here we are. Minus Zaitsev, unfortunately." He said unfortunately in a way people did when they found nothing unfortunate about a situation at all.
Y/N spun around, suddenly very aware of the sound of rushing blood and her own quickened heartbeat that rang in her ears. Prince Nikolai looked as pleased by this reaction as she imagined a cat would as it dug its claws into some poor, unsuspecting thing or got a big plate of full-fat cream. At least now the gardening thing made complete sense.
He was in his full regalia, as polished as he'd been when she'd seen him earlier this evening, all shiny medals and sharp lines and the sort of lazy indifference that came with inherited importance and disarming good looks. She'd half expected the illusion of grandeur to disappear once she saw him up close, but the prince remained as impeccable as he'd been from afar, almost to an irritating degree. Y/N lowered her eyes.
"My apologies, your Highness. I didn't recognise your voice."
"How could you? We've never had the pleasure of speaking to each other." Y/N thought she might have been imagining the subtle note of accusation in his voice. He tipped his head to the side, eyes fixed on Y/N with the sort of intense curiosity that she could feel burning against her skin. "Don't apologise. I've had enough of performative politeness to last me a year."
Y/N raised an eyebrow at that, her eyes flitting up to his face for a brief moment of offence. "Are you implying my apology is performative?"
Nikolai caught her eyes and smiled at that. She had been right - he had the sort of mouth that lent itself to charming, easy smiles and was hard to look away from. "You don't seem the type to be sorry about any of this. Except maybe getting caught."
Y/N didn't deign answer that, there was no point in pretending when he hardly appeared open to changing his mind if the knowing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. She took a slight step backwards when he pushed himself away from the column and moved towards her. He side-stepped her, though there was still an undue amount of proximity between them as he passed by her side, eyes trailing along her features before he focused on something behind her.
"You know who I am, don't you?" she asked. He'd called her a merchling princess, he'd known exactly why she was here and who she'd intended to meet. Something was unsettling about the casual way in which he considered her question as if he were toying with her the same way he was toying with the leaves of some unnamed bush he'd stopped to observe.
He was quiet for a while, the only sound a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest as he plucked a pretty, pink flower from its stem. "It's in my job description," he said simply as if that might explain the overabundance of information on her.
"Is it? I've heard princes have people for that. To whisper over your shoulder whenever they see someone coming your way."
A laugh this time. "You're not wrong, but I find those quite overbearing and tough to get rid of when one wishes to slip away unnoticed. I'm sure you can relate."
She hummed in response, eyes narrowed. "Where's the lieutenant?"
"Am I boring you that much? You wound me, Miss Braam."
Y/N barely held back a frustrated sound that she felt building in her chest. He was infuriating on purpose, she was sure. She'd seen him interact with people tonight and he went about it with such elegance and ease that there was no doubt Nikolai Lantsov had a way with both words and people.
"I would do no such thing. You're a delight," she said dryly. And it wasn't a lie - Nikolai did seem delightful in a precarious sort of way, but Y/N felt far too on edge to appreciate it. "He promised..."
Nikolai interrupted her, one gloved hand raised as if he were placating a startled wild animal. "I sent him away," he said, turning to face her, "I must say, if I were in his place and meeting you in such a lovely place at a such late hour I would've personally put up much more of a fight. Alas, he obeyed - so you're stuck with me instead."
Y/N felt the frustration rising, choking out the words in her throat even as she pushed it down to try and appear forlorn rather than annoyed. "Oh," was all she said, turning her face away so that the shadowy darkness offered some cover.
She saw him shift in the periphery of her vision and then there were fingers on the edges of her jaw, the material soft and runny against her skin. Not cotton, silk. Of course it would be silk. She didn't fight him as he guided her chin so that she was looking at him once again, determined to appear deeply hurt by Zaitsev's abandonment rather than irritated by the fact she would now have to come up with another plan to get the materials from him. Nikolai's eyes trailed along her face as if he were drinking her in, so gentle and sympathetic she almost believed it. Almost.
"As lovely as you look in all your teary-eyed, heartbroken glory," Nikolai said, sounding amused, "I sincerely doubt you are anything of the sort. It's that Ketterdam blood in your veins. Pragmatism above all else, no?"
She tried to free her chin from his fingers, but as she did the grip suddenly became less gentle, holding her firmly in place. He smiled when he saw the flash of irritation cross her features.
"That's more like it." He sounded almost satisfied to see the facade crack, amused by her reaction. What in Ghezen's name was his problem?
She jerked her chin against his grip in a display of defiance before staring him down. "And is pragmatism an unfamiliar concept here in Ravka? Quit playing, your Highness. We could've been done with this much quicker if you'd just asked your questions at the start."
He only hummed in response, still looking at her as if he were observing a particularly riveting piece of art, one that might reveal some secret symbolism hiding beneath the surface. "Maybe I didn't want it to be quick?"
"I also sincerely doubt that."
He chuckled and Y/N felt his warm breath brush against her flushed cheeks. His grip had loosened, but she still felt the warmth of his fingers seeping into her skin. "Why? You're a curious thing. Brought here to be paraded about for the Court in hopes of securing a fruitful marriage, no? But then you very adamantly avoid both my brother and me. It's a bit strange... I suppose I wanted to take my time with you."
"Maybe that was the ploy all along, the whole avoidance thing. It got you curious, didn't it?" She leaned into his touch very intentionally then, overly aware of the way he shifted them to accommodate her, her eyebrow raised in an attempt at mirroring his playfulness.
"I admire your talent for improvisation, Miss Braam. Really, it's quite charming..."
"But...?" She'd sensed he was going in that direction and interrupted him before he could say it. Nikolai chuckled.
"But, I'm not buying it. It would've been far too risky of a plan. And unless you are more arrogant than I am - which I doubt - I don't think you expected or wanted anyone to come looking. Aside from Zaitsev, of course."
Y/N sneered at him then, finally irritated enough that she reached up to grab his wrist and pull his hand away from her jaw. The wool of his uniform was rough beneath her fingers, golden buttons digging into her palm where she gripped it. She hated how aware of him she was as she let go. Nikolai let her, grinning delightedly at this sudden display of insolence.
"Not particularly gentle. I like that."
"Stop pretending to flirt with me, your Highness." Because that's what it was - make-believe. She thought she could see something more sinister lurking beneath it. If he didn't believe her she was meeting Zaitsev for a moonlight tryst between two lovers - which in all fairness was an entirely correct assumption - then he must've thought she had more insidious intentions. So why wasn't he dragging her back to the party, demanding answers? Perhaps making a spectacle of it was his way of intimidation, it certainly fit the aura of aloof confidence he was displaying.
"Who says I'm pretending?"
She shot him a dry look in lieu of an answer. "If you're not going to ask what my real reason was for meeting Zaistev then I'm going to ask how in Ghezen's name did you know we were meeting in the first place?"
He watched her for a moment, head bent to look down at her and a smirk playing on his lips, then he turned and went around her to stroll between the lush flowers. She watched the moonlight glint off the golden details of his uniform, his hands clasped behind his back, something languorous and insolent about the way he moved. "Now, that would be telling," he said, "And I like to keep an air of mystery about me. It adds to the charm I think."
"Fine. Why care to find out about it at all?"
He halted for a second as if considering his answer. "I told you. You never bothered to introduce yourself, and the whole charade has been going on for three nights and days now. I was already suspicious on the second day as to what exactly you were doing here."
Realising they weren't going anywhere any time soon Y/N made her way over to the fountain, the soft rush of water behind her back soothing her nerves as she sat down. "So your explanation is that your ego made you do it?"
"My ego makes me do a lot of things, Miss Braam. A character fault, I know, but no one's perfect." He didn't sound sorry about it at all.
"I have a perfectly sensible explanation for that, if you'd like to hear it?"
He was picking apart another flower, like a gardener's worst nightmare when he looked back towards her and smirked. "Another one? Are we dropping the playing hard-to-get ploy?"
Y/N ignored the jab, leaning back on her hands and tilting her head as she watched him lean in to smell some unremarkable bush. "My parents are tentatively hopeful, but I know better..."
"Of course you do."
"Would you stop that, you menace."
Nikolai started laughing and Y/N realised that all the other times he'd laughed or chuckled at her words it had been only a good mimicry of amusement. This was the real thing. She snorted and looked up towards the glass ceiling in faux exasperation, hiding her smile.
"Anyway. It's the crown prince's hand in marriage that's on the table, right? You said it yourself - us merchling princesses are a pragmatic bunch. As nice as it sounds, I'm no royalty, so why waste my breath? Your kingdom needs political alliances, not money. Nothing's going to come of it." She shrugged. "And if I'm debasing myself like I'm a dairy cow on a cattle fair, I'd prefer not to do it in vain. I too have an ego, you know."
When she dropped her head back down she realised Nikolai was watching her from where he stood, head tipped to the side, his fingers absentmindedly plucking the petals off a rose he was holding. He seemed to be considering saying something but decided against it.
"From what I've been told, your father is a very rich man," he said eventually, "And I find that sort of thing makes a woman rather attractive. Political alliances can be bought, you know."
"Is that why you keep not-pretending to flirt? Does my father's money make me so irresistible?"
"Well that, and the insolence." He smirked. "But mostly insolence. Us Ravkans, we're just not as pragmatic."
Y/N rolled her eyes, though without malice. "I can tell." She sighed, watching her fingers where they dipped into the cold water. "And besides, I'm not too keen on being shipped off to a foreign kingdom. Much to my mother's dismay."
"Not even for a crown?"
Her gaze shifted back to Nikolai who was now strolling over to her, appearing genuinely curious this time. He looked like something out of a children's book, like he might be the one to discover the fair, dead girl she'd imagined in a field of flowers and mourn over her body, impressive even in tragedy. She supposed she understood why all the girls when they were done with Vasily swarmed to try and get Nikolai's attention instead.
"I have no interest in crowns. They seem heavy."
He stopped a few paces away, watching her for a moment before a small, knowing smile bloomed across his lips. "What is it that interests you then?"
Y/N was glad he'd asked if only so she could grin insolently at him and repeat what he'd said to her before, "Now, that would be telling, your Highness. And I like to keep an air of mystery about myself too."
He was standing over her now, looking down at where she was sprawled back on the cold stone of the fountain, a playful glint in his eyes. "Fair. I suppose I should've seen that one coming from a mile away."
"You really should have." She agreed with amusement, head tipped back to look up at him. For a moment they stared at each other, him standing so close she could feel the fabric of his pants brush against her knee, and her leaning back on her hands, aware that she could but didn't want to shift away. She'd almost forgotten she was supposed to be rather annoyed about her failed meeting and when the thought appeared uninvited at the forefront of her mind she couldn't help breaking eye contact and looking at the dark corners of the winter garden behind Nikolai.
"Why were you meeting him?" he asked then, his voice more serious than it had ever been since they started talking. Y/N didn't look at him right away, worrying at her lip as she thought about what she would say. Playful avoidance didn't seem like a good choice here, but neither did the truth, at least not the whole truth.
She sighed. "He has something I want."
When she pulled herself up to stand Nikolai shifted slightly to the side so that he was right by her side, not really blocking her path but close enough to stop her if he decided to. He was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body.
Y/N looked up at him, a determined look in her eyes. "I'm not telling."
Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "I assume you can see how that might seem rather worrisome to me."
Y/N dipped her chin in a small nod of acknowledgement.
"And I also assume you know I won't just let it go."
"You? Unrelenting? I never would've guessed."
He smiled at that, though it was a bit strained. "I could drag you back to your parents now. Demand an explanation."
Y/N appeared to consider his words for a moment. "Yes. I suppose you could." She dropped her eyes down to his hands where he had them shoved into the pockets of his uniform. Her skin remembered the grip he'd had on her chin earlier that evening, prickling at the thought of those silk gloves wrapped around her arm. Was this fear she felt in the pit of her stomach?
Nikolai must have noticed because he followed her gaze down and let out a soft chuckle when he saw the prickled skin on her bare arms and the uncertain look on her face. "I didn't mean it literally. Though I could, if that's your preference?"
Y/N felt the blood rush to her face, hot and burning, certain the blush was already spreading from her chest up to her neck. She closed her eyes and let out a frustrated breath. Collect yourself, you frivolous fool. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" she said, voice biting.
Nikolai chuckled. She couldn't see him with her eyes shut, but she could imagine he was looking at her, thoroughly amused. "I can, I just don't want to. I was wondering how much it would take to make you blush."
She opened her eyes to glare at him. "Satisfied?"
"Very much so."
"Great, now that we've pleased you, let's get this over with. -- I am warning you though, my mother is prone to fainting when startled."
She tried to side-step him to head for the door, assuming he'd follow her, but Nikolai deftly held out his hand to catch her wrist and pull her back to where she had been standing. There was no harshness to it, he was careful not to grip too hard or pull too strongly, but Y/N still gasped when she felt stopped in her path.
Irritated, she spun around and came up so close she could feel the wool of his uniform brush against her bodice as she glared up at him. "What now?"
"Now I'm thinking I should escort you to your room, just to make sure you don't accidentally commit some act of treason on your way to it."
"Is that what you think? That I'm planning some grand act of treason with Zaitsev?"
"You do have that look about you. A bit insolent, a bit treasonous."
She twisted her wrist in his hand as if to draw attention to it, jutting her chin out defiantly as she looked up at him. When she spoke she did her best to sound as smug and irritating as he did. "You like that, don't you?"
He made a soft tutting sound, looking deeply amused. "I do like you. That doesn't mean I trust you."
"That's--" she stuttered, torn between irritation and being caught off-guard by the matter-of-factness colouring his voice, "That's not what I meant."
"You're blushing again."
She reached up to smack him on his arm with her free hand. For a moment he looked genuinely caught off guard and Y/N couldn't help the smug self-satisfaction that swelled in her chest at the startled look he gave her. She just hit a prince. A real, very gilded, very irritating prince.
"You are the most infuriating man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting." Her chest rose and fell on quickened breath and she could hear her pulse thrumming against her ribcage like some caged bird startled by the way her voice rose in irritation.
Then Nikolai started laughing and it was Y/N's turn to look alarmed by the display. She stared at him as he tried to collect himself several times, running his hand through his hair and leaving it charmingly tousled as he tipped his head back and took a deep breath to calm himself.
"Like I said. You do have a tendency for treason - like hitting a prince."
"I barely touched you, and you had it coming," she said, then shook her head and looked up above his head, "Sorry. I lost my temper."
"No, no - it's fine. I did have it coming."
She felt his thumb brush against the inner side of her wrist, suddenly aware that he'd never let go of it. His fingers stilled for a moment before he spoke, "Breathe. Your heart's beating like you just outran a bear. I'm not going to tell anyone about tonight."
She did not think anything good would come of admitting the current state of her pulse had very little to do with the fear of her parents and everything to do with the way every sense in her body was heightened by his proximity. She hardly wanted to admit that silly reaction of her body to herself, much less him. She let out a shaky breath. "Okay."
"Okay?" He was watching her when she opened her eyes again. "Do you want to go back to your parents or your room?"
She stared at him for a moment, uncertain. Had she really appeared distressed enough for him to so suddenly switch gears? She searched his face for anything suspicious as if she half-expected this sudden calmness in his voice to be a trap.
"I'm suspicious. Not cruel," he said when she failed to answer. She felt him release her wrist as if finally satisfied enough with her pulse going down to let go. "I crossed the line and upset you. It wasn't my intention."
"Wasn't it?" There was an accusation in her voice, one she didn't realise was there until it slipped out without her permission. When had they switched roles of the accuser and the accused?
Nikolai looked away, looking almost repentant. "I don't know. I got carried away - I guess I didn't expect you to be... like that."
She wasn't sure what like that meant and was half-afraid of asking. Maybe he'd say something ridiculous and then she'd be blushing again. No, that was a ridiculous thought. This entire exchange was ridiculous. She almost expected to wake up tomorrow and fully believe it was a fever dream.
"So what I just... leave now? No consequences?" she said, sounding deeply doubtful.
"Yes and no. I said I wouldn't tell." He finally looked back at her, his gaze scouring her face. "I didn't say I wouldn't keep trying to find out what you're hiding."
"It's nothing bad if that's what you're worried about."
"You've tried to lie to me several times tonight. Do you expect me to just believe you?"
He did have a point there. Y/N pursed her lips. "What then?"
Nikolai seemed to consider her then. Under scrutiny, Y/N suddenly became very aware of their proximity, which in all fairness had been entirely her fault. She stepped away uneasily, worrying at her lip. Ghezen, he really was deeply infuriating, for more than one reason.
"You'll see tomorrow."
Y/N's head shot up. "Tomorrow?"
"Save me a dance."
She was certain she looked like there were rusted cogs inside her head grinding against each other as she tried to process his words. There was clearly a double meaning in there, there always seemed to be with him, but it wasn't immediately obvious to her.
Nikolai smirked as he watched her work it out. "Don't overheat that pretty little head of yours. I like the way it works."
She made a face at him. "Why would you... oh."
"Oh," he repeated, smug.
Save me a dance. It was a threat, not a request. He would approach her tomorrow in the middle of the after-dinner ball, in front of everyone. She would know it was for show, but to everyone else, it would appear as if he'd singled her out and shown her his favour. Out of the blue at that.
She shot him a dirty look. "That's low."
"I don't consider myself a particularly immoral person, but I will do what I have to."
She would find herself dragged out of her carefully-crafted obscurity and thrust under scrutiny. Her parents would be delighted, no doubt, a welcome reprieve from the frustration her disobedience was causing them currently. She couldn't think of a worse thing.
"Unless, of course, you decide to tell me about it beforehand." At some point, he'd strolled away from her and plucked another one of those poor flowers. "I'll still ask, of course, but more subtly."
She stared at him, disbelieving. Did he just threaten her and then proceed to imply he'd still ask her to dance with him?
She let out a frustrated sigh. "Very well, we can play that game. I will warn you though, I tend to bite when cornered."
"I was hoping you would."
"You... you are just the worst," she said, irritation colouring her voice higher than normal, before turning around to head for the door. In the smallest, most meagre act of defiance, she decided not to tell him goodnight and instead storm out without a word.
He was not having it. "Y/N?"
She produced some indeterminate sound of frustration. "What now, your Highness?"
"Call me Nikolai."
"I will not."
A chuckle. Then the sound of his steps as he approached her from the back. "I do wish we'd met on some less... dramatic terms. Honestly."
She couldn't ignore him when he went around her to stand in her field of vision, but she did shoot him a dirty look. There was a flower in his hands now, so delicate and white that it almost blended into the whiteness of his gloves, only the leaves visible in the darkness. He hadn't yet dismembered this one.
"Since you don't like the smell of jasmine," he said, as if that explained everything, and held it out to her.
Y/N considered not taking it, but curiosity got the better of her and she reached out her hand tentatively to pluck the flower from his fingers. "What is it?"
"Gardenia. A personal favourite, at least scent-wise." He stared at the flower in her hand for a moment, then smiled. "Goodnight, Miss Braam."
She watched him stroll back towards the door that led into the palace, unhurried, languid and infuriatingly prepossessing. For a moment she stood there, reeling, before she headed for the other door, the one that led out into the gardens, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was only once she was outside that she realised he hadn't lied about the flower, its fragrance a sweet, charming thing. Later that night, when she returned to her room she would put it in a small crystal glass and place it next to her bed so that when she fell asleep her mind was still full of that fragrance and the memory of Nikolai's thumb pressed against her pulse point.
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov x reader#grishaverse x reader#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov x y/n#nikolai x you#nikolai x reader#nikolai x y/n#shadow and bone#sob#shadow and bone imagine#nikolai lantsov my beloved#tbh nikolai drives me insane every time i write him#this is a monstrosity of a fic and i have zero regrets#gardenias
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I think I've figured out what it is about the way Nikolai looks at Alina that melts my heart every single time
Usually whenever it's just the two of them, they're positioned very close to each other, which already changes the way you look at someone immensely.
When she's looking up at him, he tilts his chin down and creates the perfect "puppy eyes" angle. When she's looking down, he puts his face right in front of hers, below hers even, and looks up at her from that same angle.
And most importantly, he looks at her so intently. Like he's not just looking. Like he's looking for something. And he sees her. He sees her. He doesn't idolize her. He's not above or below her.
When he looks at her, he's not a king, and she's not a saint. They're both so human when they look at each other.
I'm really trying not to ship them bc I know the source material has other things planned for the characters but it is really fucking hard not to ship them
Also if he looked at me like that I would feel like I'm stripped bare all the way down to my soul holy shit
#get someone who looks at you the way nikolai looks at alina#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov#alina starkov#nikolina#shadow and bone season 2
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This is Nikolai Lantsov x fem reader. Well i stil can't write summary soo
A/n: I don't know but this might be disturbing for someone so I'm putting warnings. But this turned out good. And again sorry if it has mistakes.
Warnings: eati!g d!sord!r, abu!e, t!xic boyfriend, star!ing, se!f ha!m sc!rs
,,As you say moi tsar!"
You sat in the gardens of the Grand Palace and thought about your conversation with Nina earlier. She encouraged you to be yourself and not hide in baggy clothes. This worried you slightly, not that Nina noticed your insecurity about wearing tight clothes, and the fact that she can tell you starve yourself for days just to please your jerk boyfriend. Nina wouldn't be able to understand...for now. Your boyfriend is a duke who is highly respected. He wanted you to be impossibly thin so you wouldn't run away from him and be beautiful enough.
A servant came to you and told you that you should prepare for a meeting with the king of Ravka. You have heard this and that about the scarred Tsar Nikolai Lantsov, but you have never met him. You should be trained in the Little Palace, but your village hid you to help them. However, you fought side by side with the Sun Summoner, and when the battle was over you were to become the betrothed of this hideous duke.
You got up and headed to your room to get ready, but when you tried to put on your kaftan it didn't fit you. Your boyfriend showed up at the door and said you'd have to lose so much weight in order to it's up. You were furious because according to him only sickly thin girls were beautiful and you were far from thin....So you took the kaftan and threw it on him and dumped him. However, he got angry and hit you so hard , that you saw stars. You hit him on the head with your hairbrush and ran out of the room. After you thought you were far enough away from him you collapsed into a dark corner of one of the hallways. You started crying, it wasn't because you felt guilty about hitting your ex, it was because for so long you were afraid and did not want to save yourself from him. Even now you were scared, so much. Because he could come to his senses at any moment, find you and.....he could do a lot of things. You got up, wiped your tears and plastered a fake smile on your face. As you was just entering the Great Hall, you bumped into someone.
You: I'm so, so sorry!
When you look at his face you realised that this was king Nikolai lantsov. And you bumped into him! That was so embarrassing.
Nikolai: No need to worry, darling!
You: It was so stupid of me, My Highnese!
Nikolai: Just Nikolai please!
Apparently the blow your ex gave you left a wound because the king's eyes widened at the sight of your shoulder and neck. You have bruises and sores all over your body because it wasn't the first time he hit you.
Nikolai: You're hurt!
You: That's nothing...
Nikolai: Who did this to you?!
You: It's not big of a deal.
Nikolai: It is when someone has hit you!
You: My boyfriend dis this, but now he is ex boyfriend.
Nikolai: Where is he?
You: I-i hit him and he is unconscious i think...
Nikolai: Did he hit you first?
You: Y-yes.
Nikolai: Has he hit you any other time?
You: I-i'm afraid i can't tell you that...
Nikolai: Why?
You: If he...if he find out I'm telling you this...he might beat me to...to death....
Nikolai took your hand and took you to the infirmary. Corporalnik trained there you took off the shirt you were wearing and remained in your underwear. You instinctively covered your body with your arms. The king had turned away so as not to disturb you. The healer said your body has so many scars and bruises, that it is unrecognizable. Only then did the king turn and his eyes widened barely perceptibly, but still he could see.
You: I'm sorry, but can i put my shirt back on. It's embarrassing for me to sit half naked in the presence of the king.
The healer: Miss i have to heal you.
You got a little angry: Oh trust me i can bare a little pain. I suffered for two years, it won't matter to me if I suffer this minimal pain!
Nikolai: Why didn't you tell anyone Y/n?
You: How do you know my name?
The healer left the room.
Nikolai: Maybe you've heard of a privateer named Stormhund?
You: Yes, I've worked with him before the civil war-Wait! You?
Nikolai: A tailor made my face unrecognisable.
You: You're lying!
Nikolai: I'm not lying, little rabbit!
That was the nickname Stormhund gave you because you get scared easily... It wasn't possible...or it was?
You: Oh my- I can't believe!
Nikolai: Come here!
You hugged him tightly.
Nikolai: Why did you let some duke starve you and beat you?!
You: I was scared.
Nikolai: Oh my dear! I love you!
You: I love you too!
He kissed you gently.
Nikolai: I'm gonna help you be yourself and to love yourself.
You: As you say, moi tsar!
#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov#netflix shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov being kind#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov just being such a caring friend
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“YOU JUST SAID YOU WOULDNT TURN HER IN FOR A BOUNTY PIRATE”
“pRiVaTeER”
“oh”
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Nobody:
Cardan:“Kiss me again,” he says, drunk and foolish. “Kiss me until I am sick of it.”
Nikolai Lantsov: "Kiss me Zoya, I need reassurance that you are real and that we survived."
Jacks: "In the morning, you can forget it. You can go back to pretending you don't like me, and I can pretend that I don't care. But for tonight, let me pretend you're mine"
#cardan greenbriar#jude and cardan#jurdan#cardans tail#cardan my beloved#ugh my heart#nikolai lantsov#zoya my beloved#zoya nazyanelsky#zoya nazyalensky#jacks x evangeline#jacks x reader#the ballad of never after#evajacks#evangeline fox
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SHADOW AND BONE
2.03 Like Calls to Like
#nikolai lantsov#shadow and bone#sabedit#shadowandboneedit#shadowandbonecentral#shadowandbonesource#shadowandbonedaily#dailyshadowandbone#grishaverseblr#grishaverseedit#grishaverse#my creations#*gifs#no one cares i know#but i like this scene#he's just showing off#and i love that for him#nikolai my beloved <3
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Genya is so real for this
#shadow and bone#six of crows#nikolai lantsov#grishaverse#nina zenik#the darkling#crooked kingdom#kaz brekker#kaz dirtyhands brekker#king nikolai#genya my beloved#genyalina#alina x genya#genya safin#shadow and bone nikolai#prince nikolai#zoya x nikolai
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sadly
#netflix shadow and bone#six of crows#crooked kingdom#shadow and bone netflix#shadow and bone cast#shadow and bone#wylan hendriks#wylan van eck#nikolai lantsov#nikolai my beloved#tolya and tamar#tolya yul bataar#tamadia#tamar kir bataar#kit young#jack wolfe#patrick gibson#anna leong brophy#lewis tan#shadow and bone season 2#jesper fahey#kaz brekker#alina starkov#inej ghafa#nina zenik#matthias helvar#mal oretsev#the darkling#zoya nazyalensky#zoyalai
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The Crows after the battle took place (Shadow and Bone: 2X06):
Inej, Jesper, Wylan, and Nina resting on the ground after almost dying for the thousandth time
Jesper: Where's Kaz?
Nina: Probably off somewhere plotting his next move
Wylan: Uh guys? I think I found him...
Inej: Oh for Saints sake!
*Kaz walking up to Nikolai*
Kaz: So our payment?
Nikolai: I am quite literally being healed right now, can't it wait a few more minutes?
The Crows: Oh no
Nikolai: What?
Jesper: No one tells Kaz to wait...especially when it comes to money.
Nikolai: And why is that?
Jesper and Inej: Here we go
Wylan: *whispering to Jesper* What's happening?
Jesper: Just watch
Kaz to Nikolai: Would you like to see a magic trick?
Nikolai: S-sure?
*Inej shaking her head*
*Kaz moves his hands and out of thin air, a music box appears*
*Jesper starts laughing, then Inej*
*Wylan and Nina just standing there confused*
*Kaz winds up the music box*
*Pause*
《Bitch Better Have My Money by Rihanna starts to play》
"Yayo, yayo, mula-la, yayo
Bitch better have my money
Y'all should know me well enough
Bitch better have my money
Please don't call me on my bluff
Pay me what you owe me"
*Nina and Jesper on the ground cackling*
*Wylan standing there shocked with his mouth hanging open*
Nikolai: What TF just happened?!?
*Inej pats his shoulder and laughs*
Inej: You just witnessed something very rare
Nikolai: And what is that?
Inej: Kaz's humor
*Kaz just standing there smirking*
Kaz: No but seriously though give me my money or I will become your worst nightmare
Nikolai: ...
The Crows: ...
Jesper: I'd do what he says, mate. You don't want to get him in a bad mood
Nikolai: THIS IS HIM IN A GOOD MOOD?!?
Everyone but Kaz: YES
#six of crows#kaz brekker#wylan van eck#nina zenik#inej my beloved#inej ghafa#nikolai lantsov#shadow and bone#leigh bardugo#kazzle dazzle#kanej#matthias helvar#jesper fahey#wesper#crooked kingdom#alina starkov#the darkling#aleksander kirigan#mal oretsev
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"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<<
☽ 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.
#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone x reader#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov x reader#sturmhond#sturmhond fanfiction#nikolai lanstov#shadow and bone netflix#sturmhond x reader#sturmhond x you#sturmhond imagine#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone x you
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still be here in the morning?
Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader
Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*
Repost
It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.
You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.
"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.
"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.
"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"
"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."
"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"
"I'm aware."
"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."
"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."
"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"
Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"
You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."
"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."
"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."
After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.
To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.
He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.
A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.
"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.
"What do you want, Mouse?"
"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."
"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."
"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.
"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.
"Make me."
"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.
"I said, make me, Lantsov."
"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.
Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.
"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.
"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.
"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."
Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.
"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.
Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."
He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.
He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.
He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."
His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.
Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.
Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."
"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.
He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.
Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.
Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.
"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.
Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.
You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.
You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.
Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.
"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.
His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.
"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"It's stupid."
"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.
"Why would I be mad?"
"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.
"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"
"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.
You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"
You shook your head.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded your head.
"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"
You hesitated.
"Well, we've found our problem."
"You don't love me."
"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.
"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."
"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.
You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"
"Honey, you drive me wild."
You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.
You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.
A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."
You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.
fin.
buy me a coffee
#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov#netflix shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov being kind#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov x you#no y/n#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fanfic#nikolai x reader#siege and storm#nikolai lantsov imagine#shadow and bone x reader
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gardenias. | nikolai
part II (part I)
nikolai lantsov x reader
summary: the setting is a grand event hosted at os alta with the intention of finding a future queen for crown prince vasily. the reader is a merchant's daughter trying to keep a low profile after her parents had dragged her there (against her will) with the hopes that she might catch the prince's attention. she, on the other hand, has different plans. plans that get entirely upheaved by none other than the younger prince nikolai who interrupts her illicit late-night meeting in the winter garden. now she's caught attention of one of the two people whose scrutiny she'd been trying so hard to avoid for the last few days of the event and she's not entirely sure she actually minds it.
preview:
He held her gaze for a moment, hardly moving a muscle himself, before he spoke again, his voice firm. “No games. Remember?”
The huff that left her might have been a chuckle, only completely devoid of any humour. She stared down at him for a moment, eyes glassy and tired, like it had all just caught up to her and she was finally crumbling. “I almost believe you. I think it’s the face. It’s a kind one.” Her eyes searched his face, clinical, like one would observe a painting of him on the gallery wall. “Or maybe you’re just handsome.”
“Why, thank you.” He offered her his best attempt at a self-assured smirk and decided it fell flat. Even his ego was dampened by the moment, which was a feat in itself. He sighed. “What did they do to you?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
Kind of. “Do you want to answer it?”
She shook her head.
“Then it was rhetorical.”
word count: 3.4k (compared to 5k in the 1st part this is tiny)
pinterest 📸
tropes/warnings: not cannon, adult language
a/n: well, this is like a year too late to the game, but i could not get it out of my head. keep in mind that pieces of information and explanations are left out intentionally, we are only aware of what nikolai is aware of (which is not much, as he'll come to find out) and yes, i might have engineered some ✨drama✨ to bring them closer together emotionally, so we don't all get stuck on surface attraction and vague suspicions
nikolai's POV
If one imagined the Court to be an organism - which was not a hard thing to do, given how reliably it behaved - then the whispers of its courtiers were the lifeblood, coursing steadily through its golden vessels. And if rumours were a sickness, then one could hardly be surprised to see them spread to every last corner of this monstrous creature as quickly and reliably as a plague would. Which was very quick, indeed.
Nikolai had hardly managed to get his hands on a plate of some highly garnished and questionably nutritious food before the whispers reached him. It was not a particularly subtle affair, as these things rarely were, and Nikolai had a sneaking suspicion this was entirely by design. He didn’t think he imagined that the ladies had been standing a bit further away just a moment ago, and he knew with certainty that as far as whispers went, these could hardly be classified as hushed. They made a show of leaning in and raising delicate hands to their lips, but it was the eyes that betrayed them - sharp and quick, glossy with excitement, and slipping surreptitiously in his direction as if to check if he was listening. He was.
And if he took his overly-decorated food elsewhere in the garden, then the mill would start all over again, like a broken melody. She does have that look about her. Her poor parents, they’d say, but Nikolai did not believe their pity. It was, he thought, just a well-aimed knife. Hush, someone’s mother reprimanded, voice sharp, her mother’s right there. But by the looks of her, Nikolai doubted it was anything Mrs Braam hadn’t heard before. She sat, straight-backed and completely devoid of colour, at one of the wrought-iron tables set around the palace gardens. There was an abandoned tart on the plate in front of her, forgotten and replaced by the glass of brandy she gripped with a shaky hand, and next to her was an older Kerch woman who was valiantly attempting to drown out the whispers with conversation. Nikolai averted his gaze, unwilling to participate in this cruel charade.
But when his gaze landed in the distance it caught, as if on a shard of glass, on the pale green silk of her dress. Around her, a few ladies and their handmaids had formed a tactical formation of sorts, attack dogs in the finest silks, their eyes sharp and vaguely threatening. If even one of them caught someone staring, they’d turn in unison like hounds that scented blood and stare them down into submission, then turn back around and smile sweetly at Miss Braam, as if nothing had just transpired. Nikolai was therefore very careful to look only when one of them was taking a shot with her mallet, lest he meet the end of one of those glares.
And so he watched her in increments, like a series of paintings of an obsessed artist - the twist of her body as she swung her mallet, the errant lock of her hair cascading over her shoulder, the lovely twist of her smile when the ball went through the hoop. The fourth time he looked she was leaning on her mallet, watching the girl in purple take her shot, and he realised she had her mother’s eyes and none of her pallor. There was a brush of colour high atop her cheekbones so that in her green dress she looked like a maiden of spring, vivid in her liveliness. If she was concerned with the gossip, she did not show it. And when she caught him looking the fifth time, she met his eyes the same way she did last night in the greenhouse, steady and unflinching. And then she smiled.
_____________________________
She was smiling again when she entered the library in a flurry of silk later that afternoon, her voice light as she called out to the librarian, “Have you found it?”
Nikolai flipped a page, eyes skimming the blueprints and the calculations, and waited for her to notice him. If it was a bit theatrical, he blamed it on the boredom and not the fact that her irritation was a source of great amusement for him. And he knew before she even let out an annoyed huff, that she was bound to be irritated by his ploy.
“Your Highness.” Her voice was even, though it seemed to require not an unsubstantial amount of effort to keep it so. “I didn’t know you were using the library.”
Nikolai flipped another page and looked up at her only long enough to offer her a smirk. “No need to play coy, Miss Braam. I’ve sent everyone away. We’re alone.”
“Wonderful,” she said dryly and shut the door behind her, pressing her back against it. Nikolai allowed himself a private, self-satisfied smile. If she had been so keen on getting away from him she could’ve simply walked back out, but she hadn’t. “And I presume you were also the one that sent someone to tell me the book I was looking for was found?”
“Catching on quick.” Finally, Nikolai shut the book he was perusing and looked up at her. She was wearing the same dress she wore to brunch, the colour a muted jade in the soft, warm shadows of the library. And when he looked up to her face she had her eyebrow raised, like a school-teacher that had caught him staring. Nikolai offered his best boyish smile. “You look lovely.”
“Oh, shut it.” It was not the response he usually got, but he was still amused as he watched her turn her back on him and start fiddling with the lock. He had half a mind to ask if she was blushing again but she jerked that pin in place with such ferocity that he decided against it. Besides, it was answer enough.
Instead, he said, “And a personality to match it.”
She checked the door once, then jerked it again for good measure, and finally when she was satisfied that no one could enter and catch them speaking, she turned around and levelled him with a look. “Careful, I might decide to be polite and bore you out of your mind.”
“You’d combust.”
She pursed her lips but did not deny it. “What do you want?”
Nikolai uncrossed and crossed his ankles again, sinking deeper into his sprawl across one of the chairs that were neatly arranged around a long table, his gaze following her as she made her way towards him. “Only the pleasure of your company.” Then, his voice gone low and serious, he continued, “That, and to ask how you were doing — after the brunch, I mean.”
“Oh, that.” For a moment he saw something cross her features, a look of startled confusion, as if she hadn’t quite expected him to ask, or at least not in such a way. Or maybe he was just imagining things because next he knew she was propping her hip against the table and looking distinctly unconcerned. “As any scandalous woman - basking in the attention, utterly debauched.”
He must have frowned or made some sort of unstudied expression because suddenly she was laughing at him and using the brief moment of confusion to lean forward and steal the book from his lap. She smelled like something sweet and flowery, like a late summer afternoon.
There was a tone of playful accusation in her voice as she said, “So they did find the book.”
He ignored it. “You don’t seem particularly upset.” It was hard to tell if it was a statement or a question, but even Nikolai could not push down the bewilderment that coloured his words.
Y/N, to her credit, didn’t seem to mind his confusion. She moved one of the chairs and sat on the edge of the table, legs crossed, the book open across her lap as she ran her fingertips along one of the blueprints. “It would be quite counterproductive to be upset,” she said conversationally, flipping a page, “given that I’ve started the rumour myself.”
Slowly, Nikolai eased himself back into his chair, allowing the confession to settle over him, eyes never quite leaving her. He could tell from the too-casual way she flipped the pages that she was very much aware of his gaze and very intent on pretending she wasn’t.
He lost his patience after she flipped the fourth page. “How?”
She stroked the edge of the book fondly, like it was a pet or a lover, and took her time with flipping the page before she deigned to answer him. “I made sure to be seen sneaking into my room last night. Then I told one of my maids to talk about a handsome lieutenant she’d seen sneaking around the place at roughly the same time.” She flipped another page and sighed happily at whatever she saw on it. “Anyway, I figured someone would piece it together into a scandal sooner or later. By breakfast, the story was that we were seen together, and by brunch, well…” She looked up at him and smirked. “I’ll spare you the lurid details.”
Nikolai was rather proud of the way he didn’t wonder about the lurid details and instead focused on the matter at hand. “Why?”
“I wish to spare your princely sensibility.” She was flipping the pages and ignoring him again, though he could tell she was thoroughly amused by the game she was playing from the way the corner of her lip twitched slightly.
He drew a furtive breath in through his nose and closed his eyes to steel himself against the taunts. He was not fifteen anymore, he could hold it together. “No, I meant why in the name of Saints would you do that?”
“I do very little in the name of Saints or Ghezen these days, Your Highness.” Nikolai did not doubt that. She let the book fall open on her lap and leaned back against her hands, watching him thoughtfully. Then she shrugged and said, rather matter-of-fact, “I told you I bite when cornered.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think that meant you’d bite yourself.”
There was something vaguely unsettling at the way she smiled at him then. A woman cornered, a desperate snap of the teeth, a final show of defiance. Her voice was oddly flat in comparison as she said, “An animal will chew its own leg off to be free.”
For a moment, all Nikolai could do was stare. It occurred to him only then that the two of them seemed to have in mind two vastly different versions of last night’s events. He felt that on an intellectual level, this was quite a jump from the playful threat he’d left her with last night. His hands gripped the armrests, but he could not feel his fingertips, and for a minute he seemed to be overly aware of the blood rushing through his ears and the steady beat of his heart. He could not hear his stumbling thoughts over the sound of it.
Then he heard himself say, as if from far away, “Is that what you think of me? That this had been my intention?”
“I think,” she said, having gone very still where she sat, “that I’m not going to play your game.”
The air between them shifted, growing raw and strange as if someone had cast a strange spell over it. Belatedly, Nikolai realised that this was not the question he’d truly meant to ask, but he also knew that she wouldn’t have answered it either way. Not when her spine was so rigid and her fingers white-knuckled where she wrapped them around the edge of the table, not when she looked at him carefully as if half-expecting him to lash out. What are you so afraid of? He’d meant to say. But he thought she might not know the answer anyway, or that the answer would simply be everything.
Slowly he reached up to rub his face, careful not to shift from his spot and startle her. Then he leaned his head back against the backrest of his chair and observed the point where the tall shelves met the ornate ceiling. The silence between them felt like being underwater, still and suffocating.
“Okay,” he said after a while, to no one in particular. Then he drew a breath and looked back down at her. “Alright. No games.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He was looking at her down his lashes, head still tipped back, his voice carefully bland. She looked like she might object, so he continued, “So let me just make this clear. You attempted to shoot your reputation to pieces because you thought that would stop me from approaching you tonight?”
She hid her uncertainty like a snake hid its legs, but Nikolai saw it flash briefly across her features before she pressed her lips together and stared him down. “You and the others. But mostly you, yes.”
“You lashed out without thinking, didn’t you?”
A muscle feathered in her jaw, but she kept looking at him, tenaciously stubborn. If she was afraid of him still, she did a very good job at hiding it. Which, Nikolai thought, was a pattern. “What does it matter?” she asked, defensive.
“It matters because I didn’t think you’d go about it so self-destructively. And that’s on me.” He pushed himself up from the chair, a bit too quickly, and regretted it the instant he saw her flinch. He froze for a moment, allowing the uncomfortable feeling of it to wash over him and fuel his determination, before he turned away and headed for the door. “I’ll fix it.”
“What? No.” From somewhere behind him he heard her produce a high-pitched, panicked noise followed by the sound of her feet scurrying across the library. By the time she caught him, he was two-thirds of the way out. “Stop. No. Nikolai!”
As he felt her fingers dig into his wrist he thought, quite obtusely, that her hands seemed deceptively delicate from afar. Then he voiced the very next, stupid thing that came to his mind. “Is that all it took for you to call me by my name?”
She tugged at his wrist for good measure, clearly frustrated, then let go when she was sure he’d stopped attempting to leave. “What will you do?” she ground out after a moment, her breath quickened. Nikolai knew that if he reached out to touch the inside of her wrist again he’d feel the same panicked flutter of her pulse. He held back.
“I’ll discredit the source. Which shouldn’t be hard since your sources are pitifully unreliable.” He shrugged, falling easily back onto his confidence. “Or I’ll simply tell them all to shut up.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“Isn’t it?” He smiled down at her, amused by the way she had planted herself firmly between him and the door as if he couldn’t simply go around her. “Just trust me. I’ll make it go away.”
“Well, that would entirely defeat the purpose of why I did it!”
It took an astronomical amount of effort for him not to laugh, though by the look she shot him the amusement must have slipped past his defences. He looked at the door above her head and did his best to collect himself before he answered. “Don’t say I didn’t try to spare your feelings.” He lowered his gaze back down to her. “But I would have asked you to dance even if they called you the whore of Ketterdam. So it was a moot point anyway.”
He noted again, the same way he had last night, that her blush seemed to creep up on her quickly and that it started not on her cheeks, but below, as a smattering of colour just beneath her collarbones. It rose like the tide, but she did not let him see it reach her cheeks, and instead let out a frustrated sigh before going around him. Nikolai turned to watch her as she went back to the table and threw herself down into the chair, sullen and rosy-cheeked.
“So the bottom line is that I have no choice?” she said eventually, looking up from her hands, her voice thin and tired.
Nikolai’s amusement melted into confusion. “What?” He’d miscalculated, again.
This seemed to frustrate her further because she shot him such a vicious glare that he nearly flinched from it. “Oh, don’t play stupid. You’ve got me cornered. Either I confess or you throw me out into the limelight tonight. Is that what you want to hear? That you win?” Whatever energy she had poured into this display of ferociousness seemed to drain her completely, because in the end she just slumped back into the chair and closed her eyes. “Fine then. You win.”
Nikolai just stared at her, confused, and it was a while before he remembered that he had use of his limbs and that he could just walk over to her. He did so slowly, cautiously, like one would approach a snared animal, before lowering himself into a crouch in front of her. “Hey Ketterdam?” She did not respond. “Look at me.”
She seemed so fragile then, eyelids fluttering with the effort to keep them closed, the skin thin and so translucent that he could see the bluish outlines of the fine vessels beneath it. Nikolai had no idea how she’d extrapolated all that from their conversation, but he suspected she’d been spinning herself into a frenzy since last night. He thought that if he looked at it from her side, and at an angle, he might see the logic behind it. If she felt her hands were tied and she’d tried to bite her way out of it, then he supposed what he’d just done must’ve felt like having her mouth taped shut. He ignored the faint wave of nausea that rolled over him then. She opened her eyes, so slightly that Nikolai might have missed it had he not been right in front of her, looking for the smallest twitch of muscles on her face. He held her gaze for a moment, hardly moving a muscle himself, before he spoke again, his voice firm. “No games. Remember?”
The huff that left her might have been a chuckle, only completely devoid of any humour. She stared down at him for a moment, eyes glassy and tired, like it had all just caught up to her and she was finally crumbling. “I almost believe you. I think it’s the face. It’s a kind one.” Her eyes searched his face, clinical, like one would observe a painting of him on the gallery wall. “Or maybe you’re just handsome.”
“Why, thank you.” He offered her his best attempt at a self-assured smirk and decided it fell flat. Even his ego was dampened by the moment, which was a feat in itself. He sighed. “What did they do to you?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
Kind of. “Do you want to answer it?”
She shook her head.
“Then it was rhetorical.” Nikolai leaned his elbow against the table, steadying himself, and propped his cheek against his hand as he looked sideways at her. She seemed calmer now, if entirely deflated. “At least now I know you’re not mounting a coup d'état,” he supplied, unhelpfully.
She made a derisive sound, and it took him a second to realise it was a snort. “Because I’m such a sorry mess? Yes, you’re right, nothing so grandiose.” Her fingers slipped absentmindedly across the book that was left forgotten on the table. “You could though, if you wanted to. I think.”
“Yeah, probably.” This time, he did smirk properly. Then he patted the armrest of her chair and pushed himself up. “Now go rest. And wear something ugly tonight, so I won’t even be tempted to look your way.”
This, he found, caught her attention, because her gaze snapped to him almost instantly, suddenly alert. “What’s the catch?”
“Saints, you would not believe me if I told you the Sun set in the West, would you?”
She didn’t answer that, just raised one delicate, precise eyebrow. Well, at least she didn’t look so defeated anymore, which Nikolai decided he’d take as a win.
“Try not to start any rumours in the meantime.” He winked at her, tapping his fingers against the table before he turned to leave the library. “One fire at a time.”
tags (i'm so sorry to bother you if you completely forgot about this 😭): @star-flecked-soul ; @meg-the-second-greatest ; @plowdenkm ; @londongirlcamefallingdown ; @ all the lovely anons in my inbox! <3
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai x reader#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov x y/n#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagine#nikolai x you#nikolai x y/n#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov my beloved#gardenias
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I just finished watching season 2 of Shadow and Bone and I can't contain my love for Nikolai Lantsov any longer
He is just so caring and respectful and just enough of a little shit to be lovable - he's so human (if we ignore the last couple of minutes of episode 8)
And he has great chemistry with just about everyone
His dynamics with Alina and with Mal are just *chef's kiss*
I swear if they kill him off or fuck up his character in the next season I will break something
#nikolai lantsov my beloved#aka sturmhond#shadow and bone#grishaverse#shadow and bone netflix#shadow and bone season 2
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