#grishaverse x reader

[divinitysmuse]

why do they make Wylan a 5'0 cutesy kawaii twink whose only trait is being gay WHEN HE'S LITERALLY A DEMOLITIONS EXPERT, AMAZING AT SCIENCE AND SUCH A PERCEPTIVE PERSON? this is irrational, my boy deserves so much better.

#wylan van eck #six of crows #soc #ck #crooked kingdom #wesper #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone #soc fandom

[atlabeth]

come on back to me - nikolai lantsov

summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.

a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!

title from you’re the one by greta van fleet

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)

Os Alta

It all happened rather quickly. 

One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere. 

You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off. 

The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray. 

Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.

You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table. 

You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them. 

Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate. 

You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t. 

You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them. 

You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened. 

You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring. 

“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”  

You nodded rapidly. “Are you—” 

“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”

“Baghra—?”

“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?” 

“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors. 

“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.” 

“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.” 

“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.” 

You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol. 

“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.” 

“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you. 

“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.” 

Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.” 

The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion. 

“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.” 

His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.” 

“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—” 

“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.” 

He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.” 

“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.” 

Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.” 

You nodded. “With my life.” 

Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way. 

2. The Pelican 

You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken. 

You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots. 

Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at. 

Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind. 

“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.” 

“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.” 

“So we meet again,” you said placidly. 

Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.” 

“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?” 

“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.” 

“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.” 

She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder. 

“Will you sit still?” you snapped. 

“I am,” Nikolai said. 

“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.” 

“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.” 

You scowled, only making his smile grow. 

“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.” 

“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.” 

“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.” 

“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”

“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.” 

He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.” 

“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly. 

“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?” 

“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused. 

You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.  

You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything. 

“Are you alright?”

“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head. 

“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.” 

“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.” 

You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point. 

You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving. 

Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.

“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently. 

“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”

“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”

“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.” 

“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.” 

Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”

Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.

“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”

Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims. 

“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.” 

She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away. 

“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka. 

It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.

“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.

There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”

“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked. 

“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”

You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”

He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?” 

“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”

You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?” 

“Answer the question.” 

Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”

Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”

“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”

“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”

“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.

“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”

That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.

You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back. 

When you did, he was gone. 

3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan

You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all. 

It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart. 

You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle? 

A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over. 

But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause. 

You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. 

“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 

You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood. 

You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King. 

“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said. 

He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?” 

You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.” 

“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly. 

“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”

You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?” 

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.” 

You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?” 

He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?” 

“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.” 

“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—” 

“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”

You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.” 

“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.” 

“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.” 

You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.” 

You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”  

“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.” 

You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly. 

“Do you miss your parents?” he asked. 

“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.” 

You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either. 

“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.” 

Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him. 

“You’d do that for me?” 

He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?” 

That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again. 

“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—

“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.” 

It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?” 

“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.” 

It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it. 

It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina. 

But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly. 

So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you. 

“I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” 

You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long. 

Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile. 

He knew exactly what he did to you. 

4. The Bittern 

Sergei sold you out. 

That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get. 

You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite. 

His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.

By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save. 

“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did. 

Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over. 

Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds. 

Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

And then your mind went to Nikolai. 

Nikolai. 

In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety. 

You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway. 

“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?” 

Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured. 

“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?” 

“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.” 

Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle. 

Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds. 

Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate. 

Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it. 

Saints, you wished you had. 

“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai. 

You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.” 

Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you. 

You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.

He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone. 

It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling. 

Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—

It was too much. It was just too damn much. 

You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened. 

Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done. 

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it. 

Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered. 

You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel. 

The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger. 

Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him. 

“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.” 

His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.

You held them up. “My hands?” 

You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up. 

He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were. 

This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there. 

The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part. 

Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.

“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.

And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place. 

All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.  

You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much. 

5. The Shadow Fold 

“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!” 

“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall. 

It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first. 

Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning. 

You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai. 

He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?” 

You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened. 

His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name. 

“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?” 

You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back. 

“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.” 

Darling. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.” 

“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.” 

“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.” 

You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?” 

Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.” 

You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?” 

Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.” 

“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.” 

“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said. 

“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.” 

“Good.” 

You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai. 

“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?” 

“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.” 

“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.” 

His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up. 

The Darkling’s Skiff 

You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead. 

A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive. 

“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.” 

“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.” 

“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.” 

“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled. 

A moment passed before he spoke again. 

“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.” 

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on. 

“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.” 

“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.” 

Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered. 

“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—” 

“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.” 

You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating. 

“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.” 

It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had. 

For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—

Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.” 

You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris. 

“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai. 

“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest. 

“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.” 

His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.” 

You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place. 

But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you. 

And for now, that was more than enough. 

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #nikolai lantsov the love of my life #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

[in-my-feels-probably]

hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart……

Enchanted

Request: hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart…

and: btw I saw your post about sab season 2 and i would like to request something with nikolai. i dont really have any ideas but i love that blonde boy so anything that you'll write with him is going to make me happy- but if its angst please im begging for a happy ending im already depressed because im reading rules of wolves

and: omg omg omg enchanted x nikolai sounds so perfect 😭 literally written for him

Hi! I absolutely adore these requests, thank you for sending them in. And sorry for the long wait, I’ve been a bit busy. And please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing for Nikolai, this is only my second time. Also, this request was combined with two others, I hope that’s alright, and sorry for anyone who’s request was altered a little bit to fit this story. I’m happy to accept another request if you don’t like this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! 

(Warnings: arranged marriage, swearing, very very brief angst, very vague suggestive content, drinking, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You had nearly begged on your knees when you found out you were to be wed, pleading with your parents’ advisors. 

You were no fool. You knew that one day you’d have to marry, and you were prepared to do your duty. A Princess isn’t awarded the luxury of a choice, and you knew any match that was made probably wouldn’t be from a place of love. But you never thought your parents would be prepared to ship you off to a man none of you had ever even laid eyes on, and that’s including the advisors.

A second son, and a rumored bastard at that. It was all happening too fast, and you weren’t having an easy time processing it. 

“You can’t send me! We already have an alliance with Ravka, why send me still?”

One of the men had stood, trying to ease you. “You must go, Princess. We may have an alliance, but our forces need to be strengthened. Prince Vasily is already spoken for. Marrying you to Prince Nikolai is the fastest way.”

“I am told he is charming, if it is any consolation,” another man said, though his voice was firmer. “It is time, Princess, for you to do your duty. You will marry.”

You finally relented, your fate beginning to set in. “That’s it, then. When will I be expected to leave?”

There was a moment of silence, and an awkward shuffling of feet as the advisors stood. And then one of the men spoke, sending dread running through you like ice in your veins. 

“Your arrival is set for the end of the week. The King and Queen are expecting you.”

—

The journey passed far quicker than you had anticipated. A trip like that should have been grueling, yet each moment felt more fleeting than the last. By the time you arrived on Ravkan soil, you would practically be theirs. Upon your arrival, you were escorted to the Great Hall to meet the King and Queen. 

“Moi tsar,” you curtsied, keeping your eyes low. “Moi tsaritsa. It is an honor.”

The words tasted sour on your tongue, but you spoke them anyway. The King and Queen were not known to be the kindest of people, and you’d rather spend your time in a foreign country on the good side of the sovereign. 

“Princess,” the King greeted as he stood, his eyes racking your body. “You are as beautiful as they say. My son will be pleased. Unfortunately, your arrival has preceded his. He attended a meeting with our generals, and is set to arrive in a few days. The wedding will be in a fortnight. Until then, please enjoy our hospitality. I look forward to this new found alliance between our great countries.”

“As do I,” you said, forcing a smile. 

—

As the days passed, you grew more uneasy. The weight of your duties were beginning to drag you down, and you didn’t know if you could bear the burden any longer. 

Nikolai had yet to return to court, but with his inevitable arrival looming, it became harder to face each day. You were practically alone in the castle, having yet to make any friends. And you doubted the arrival of a Prince—the subject of scandalous rumors—would do anything to lessen the loneliness and fear you felt every night. 

One evening, the pressure became too great.

Despite your duties, and the anger you knew both countries would feel towards you, you fled. It was a rash decision, and a stupid one at that. But it was the only option that could give you your freedom, so you took it.

It led you all the way down to the harbor, which you briskly made your way to with little more than the clothes on your back.

Your window of opportunity was closing, and you took it. In mere hours, someone would notice you were missing from your room. Guards would be sent all throughout the palace, and they’d track you down if you weren’t quick enough. One way or another, you would marry the second Prince of Ravka. You’d be forced to. And although the thought of being alone in an open country you knew next to nothing about terrified you, it was less terrifying than the thought of being trapped in that castle forever. 

So you went. Fled, more accurately. All the way to the harbor, in nothing but a dress and cloak, with a bag of coins hidden in your skirts. 

As you approached the harbor, the shout of guards could be heard in the distance. “Spread out! She cannot have gone far.”

The Kingsguard.

You felt your chest tighten as you quickened your pace, pulling your hood over your head. You rushed as inconspicuously as you could, clambering to get as far from the palace as possible. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your wrist. 

“What’s the rush for, My Lady? You’re going to hurt yourself running in those shoes,” the woman said, her brows furrowing.

You stopped in your tracks to take her in, realizing she was standing next to a much larger man. She had axes sheathed at her waist, and a confused but intrigued grin. 

“Please, excuse me—” You stuttered out, trying to pull away.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” the man said, in a tone much gentler than his appearance. “We mean you no harm. What are you running from?”

“I need to get away from here, and fast,” you pleaded, deciding to trust these people who stopped you. 

“That wasn’t an answer to our question,” the woman said, easing her grip. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, turning to look over your shoulder before turning back. “Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want. Just let me go. I have to get out of here, and quickly.”

The woman shared a glance with the man, and for a minute, you were beginning to think you had been found out. They somehow recognized you, and would know that the castle guards were looking for you. If that was true, the pair didn’t show it, looking back at you. 

“We have a ship,” the man finally said, gesturing behind him. “And a captain. A name you’d perhaps recognize. Sturmhond.”

Sturmhond, you thought to yourself. The richest pirate on the True Sea? What was he doing in a port in Ravka? You shook your head, having no time for questions. 

“Would he grant me safe passage? I can pay, I have the means. Please, I need to know if this is my only option of getting out of here. I haven’t done anything illegal, I promise. I just need to go.”

The woman laughed, her relaxed disposition beginning to ease you. “Illegal would have been more fun. Don’t worry, Princess. We’ll take you to our captain. You’ll be safe with us.”

Your eyes widened, and you stepped back to retreat, when the man raised his hands in surrender. 

“We mean you no harm, Princess. Clearly, you’re in trouble, and we have the means to get you away from the palace.”

“Trust me,” the woman said, offering you her hand. “We have no wish to return to the palace.. I’m sure our captain isn’t too keen, either.”

You looked between the ship and back at the castle uneasily, when you heard another shout coming from the guards marching through the village. You turned towards the man and woman, who you just realized looked very similar. Siblings, perhaps, who had just gotten back from a journey at sea.

“Sturmhond is quite the character, but he’s a good man. You have my word,” the man said. 

“Alright,” you said, making your decision as you took the woman’s hand. “I’ll go. Thank you, uh…”

You trailed off, making the man smile. He led you towards a nearby ship, helping you climb your way onto it. 

“I’m Tolya, and that’s my sister Tamar. We’re part of Sturmhond’s crew. Come along, he’ll want to meet you.”

They quickly led you aboard a ship, ushering the crew to cast off. The crew looked around with confused faces, but listened anyway. As the ship slowly left the harbor, you were led downstairs to the cabins below. 

“Captain,” Tamar called, knocking on the first doorway below deck, before opening the door herself. 

“Do you want to tell me why my ship is moving away from the dock?” Sturmhond asked without turning around, shuffling through his cabin as he pulled on his coat. 

You cleared your throat. “That would be because of me, I think.”

Sturmhond turned around at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he took you in. “I don’t believe it. Good evening, Princess. I do hope you are well. Tamar and Tolya have treated you kindly, I expect?”

You shrunk under his gaze, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Is my title that easy to spot? You’re the second to figure it out, is it something I’m doing?”

“Tamar has a keen eye,” Sturmond shrugged, grinning. “But you’re also wearing an evening gown fit for court, and the jewels around your neck could buy a small country. Those things aren’t exactly subtle, darling. Even with that cloak.”

You nodded, still nervous but relaxing with his calm demeanor. “I was told you could grant me passage away from the palace? I can pay, I don’t expect you to do this out of the kindness of your heart. But seeing as we’ve already left the harbor, I don’t think you have any other option but to take me with you. Unless you intend on throwing me overboard into the bay, although I’ll thank you kindly not to do that.”

“In that dress? You’d sink to the bottom, darling. There’s no need to worry, Princess. You’ll stay dry on deck, that I can assure you,” he chuckled, motioning for you to sit. 

“We’ll inform the crew our trip has been extended,” Tamar announced, pulling Tolya behind her to leave the cabin. 

You sat in the chair on the other side of Sturmhond’s desk, and he sat across from you. He offered you a kind smile, one that surprised you. You had heard plenty about the infamous privateer. You hadn’t expected him to be this young and handsome. His reputation matched that of an old tycoon, not of what appeared to be an ex soldier. He looked at you with curiosity, motioning for you to speak. 

“So, would you like to explain to me why my ship is sailing back out to sea? Not that I’m upset or anything, I was dreading my return to Ravka myself. But as I understand it, you were asked to come to Ravka to strengthen a political alliance—”

“And how would you know about that?” You interrupted, raising a brow. 

He smiled, shrugging. “I have my ways. It pays to know lots of things about lots of things. Including which Princesses are being married off to far away royalty.”

“Do you know him?” You asked, your voice a little unstable. “The Prince, I mean. Nikolai. I could hardly find anyone who knew him, and any knowledge of him was limited. I went into this alliance blind, thanks to my parents and advisors.”

Sturmhond’s grin widened as he nodded. “I do know him, yes. We were briefly acquainted some time ago.”

“And?”

“He’s alright,” Sturmhond laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Dashingly handsome. A bit cocky for my taste, perhaps a little spoiled, but what royalty isn’t, right? No offense.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “None taken.”

“I suppose you’re lucky in that you’re set to marry him, and not the Crown Prince. Vasily is—how should I put this—well…”

“A bastard?” You finished, making Sturmhond chuckle, nodding. 

“He is, yes. Nikolai is, in another manner of speaking, the same as well. Is that why you’re running? You don’t want to risk your reputation on a second son who may not even be the second son?”

Sturmhond looked at you through curious eyes, although there was a little apprehension in them. A little vulnerability that you didn’t quite know what to make of. You shook your head, inadvertently easing his thoughts. 

“It’s just rumors, Sturmhond. Whether there is any truth to them, I don’t know, and I don’t care. History records names, not blood. A true Lantsov or not, it doesn’t matter to me. It’s not Nikolai’s fault who his true parents are, and he shouldn’t have to bear the consequences of their actions. All that matters to my parents is what he means for my country. His reputation doesn’t affect that.”

“And what matters to you?” Sturmhond asked, his eyes softening. “Your secrets are safe with me, and I promise to not throw you overboard for whatever your answers are. Why are you running, Princess?”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. Sturmhond politely waisted for you to start, nodding encouragingly for you to speak. 

You fiddled with your hands in your lap nervously. “Nikolai’s blood doesn’t matter to me, truly. All that really matters is that he has a kind heart, and he makes living at Ravkan court for the rest of my life more bearable.” 

Sturmhond nodded as he listened intently. You continued.

“From what I hear, he’s a perfectly good man. Compared to my list of options, he was probably the best I could have hoped for.”

“Was? Or is? Do you intend on running forever? Seems like a waste of time in what is already a fleeting existence, Princess,” he said quietly. 

“I know,” you nodded, growing frustrated. “I don’t know why I did it. I just thought about being alone at court for the rest of my life, and even the promise of a semi decent Prince wasn’t enough to ease my fears. I just wanted control over my own life for once, you know? My own freedom. It was a rash decision, I admit. But it seems to be working well in my favor so far.”

Sturmhond nodded, standing up from his desk to pour two glasses of whiskey. You downed yours the second he placed it in front of you, deciding it was better to let the second one sit when he refilled your glass.

“And Nikolai? What are his thoughts on the matter?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the glass. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been at court since I arrived. I have yet to meet him. Although, once he hears of me running, I’m sure any first impressions he could have had of me are ruined.”

“I don’t know about that.”

You raised a brow, coaxing him to continue. “Really? Why is that?”

“From what I hear, Nikolai isn’t really one for court, either,” he started, shrugging. “He runs when he gets the chance, too. Why do you think he’s away from court so often?”

You pondered the thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I always assumed his duties took him elsewhere. He’s not the Crown Prince, so he doesn’t need to remain in the palace. He serves in the First Army, doesn’t he?”

Sturmhond nodded, grinning. “He does. Or, to put it more accurately, he did. I think he just loiters around neighboring countries until his Mother forces him to come home and make an appearance now.”

You chuckled, letting out a deep sigh. “Isn’t that a treat? Coming home for the first time in months, only to find out your bride to be has run away.”

“With a face like that, I doubt he’ll care much about anything once he sees you.” 

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks at his words, setting your eyes to your lap to avoid Sturmhond’s heavy gaze. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he breathed out a laugh. 

“Besides, I’m told the Prince isn’t expected back at court for a few more days. Plenty of time for you to decide whether or not you want me to turn this ship around. Who would I be to deny a Princess?”

You smiled, your voice soft. “And if I don’t want to turn around?”

“Well, you’re paying me. I don’t really care either way, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he said, grinning as he topped your glass off. “But just between you and me, I’d do it for free. Anything for a pretty face like that. Just don’t go telling everyone I said that, I have a reputation to maintain.”

You laughed, nodding. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

—

You spent the next few days on the ship, feeling more and more at ease the further you made it from Ravkan shores. 

At night, you longed for home. 

Not for you parents, or any of their advisors. But for your own bed—not on a constantly rocking ship—and the familiar trill of the birds outside your window on dewy mornings. For the library in the East Wing people seemed to forget was even there, and the soup the cooks would make when a chill was in the air. For the gardens midmorning where you could escape to when you wanted to avoid all the guards constantly watching you. 

Sturmhond did a good job at keeping you distracted from saddening thoughts, though. It was sweet of him, really. Making sure you had someone with you during the day, taking all his meals with you in the evening. 

Your time on the ship was the most relaxed you had been in a long time, actually, which you attributed to him. 

Sturmhond had quite the representation amongst high society—or any society, really—and he certainly met your expectations. He was charming, and attractive. Clever and ambitious, like everyone said he was. 

You hadn’t expected him to be as attentive as he is, however. He seemed to really enjoy a new guest on the ship, one that could keep up with his banter. He didn’t make you feel like a burden like your parents so often did, actually including you in his daily routine. 

Tolya and Tamar were great, too. Kind, and funny. Fiercely loyal and protective, both of their captain and of each other. They were the kind of friends you hoped to make during your time in Ravka. 

So far, it was off to a good start. 

As the days moved on, you found yourself growing closer to Sturmhond. You tried to stop yourself in the beginning. Despite not wanting it for yourself, you were engaged to Nikolai. Falling for another man wasn’t exactly a good thing for your future

But that damned smile.

His ridiculously attractive smile, and his stupid mop of hair that had only gotten longer from his time at sea. The infuriating way he’d look at you and make you want to shrink away from his gaze, but you could never bring yourself to look away. The obnoxious green emerald ring he wore that could probably buy a small village.

He had charmed you, despite your reservations, and you were practically head over heels. It scared the absolute shit out of you. 

Tamar had of course noticed already, confronting you about it one night after dinner. She joined you on deck, sitting next to you on a crate as you watched the stars twinkle in the sky. They were so visible out at sea, away from all the lights and clutter of the cities. 

“You’re not hiding anything from me, you know,” she smirked, sneaking your flask away to take a few sips from it. 

You feigned innocence, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tamar.”

“Come on, darling. Let’s skip the bluffing…you like him. It’s so obvious.”

“Saints, I hope not,” you groaned, scrunching your nose up at the thought of Sturmhond finding out. 

Tamar grinned at your embarrassment, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I may not swing that way, but I know the look when I see it. He’s all puppy dog eyes and desperate looks of longing when he sees you. It’s gross, really. I can actually hear his heart skip a beat when he sees you. He likes you, too. I’d stake money on it.”

You swallowed down your excitement, trying to think rationally. “Don’t even joke about that, it’s not funny.”

“I’m serious! You’re a catch, Princess. He may be my captain, but he’d be a fool not to want you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, but we can stop there,” you nervously chuckled. “We don’t need this going to my head. I’ll do something stupid like staying on this boat forever.”

She grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Would that be so bad?”

—

The next few days, you couldn’t get Tamar’s words out of your head. You went on with your routine with Sturmhond as usual, trying not to put much thought into it. 

Your feelings for him were true, that’s for sure. 

And when you’d catch him looking at you from across the deck, you’d swear by the look in his eye that he felt something for you, too. What it was, exactly, you didn’t know. 

But it was something.��

On your last evening before you had to make a decision about where you wanted to go, you skipped dinner. You couldn’t bring yourself to go along with your usual banter with Sturmhond, beginning to feel guilty about just how close and comfortable you’d gotten with him. 

You still had a duty to your country and your family, which meant at least a little to you. Plus, it wasn’t fair to make a promise to Prince Nikolai, only to leave him hanging when he returned to Ravka. 

You were leaning against the deck railing, watching the way the moonlight bounced over the still waters. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t register Sturmhond’s approaching footsteps. 

“A bit chilly for stargazing, isn’t it?” He asked, coming to stand next to you. 

You turned to see him, smiling when you noticed he was wearing his signature blue coat. You couldn’t remember a time since you met that he wasn’t dressed to the nines, no matter what time of day it was. 

“You know, for a pirate, you don’t really look like one.” 

He grinned, gently correcting you. “A privateer, darling, not a pirate. There’s a difference, I assure you.”

“Ah, a privateer. How could I have forgotten?” You chuckled, hugging yourself in an effort to shield your arms from the biting cold. “But seriously. The emerald on your finger is the size of a walnut, and that coat is fit for royalty. I find it hard to believe a privateer does well enough to afford things as nice as those.”

“Maybe I’m just good at my job,” he retorted, that signature smirk on his face.

It was enough to stir butterflies in your stomach, making you turn to look back out at the water. His gaze lingered on you a moment, and you could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks under the weight of his stare. 

“You’re cold,” he observed, breaking the silence.

“I’m fine,” you tried to say, but Sturmhond interrupted you.

“I can practically hear your teeth chattering,” he laughed, shrugging his coat from his shoulders. “Here. Seeing as my coat is fit for royalty, as you say, I think it’ll suit you better.”

“Sturmhond—”

“Princess,” he mirrored, smirking when you relented, letting him place it around your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” you said softly.

You turned away from the water to face him, leaning back against the bannister. His eyes flitted up and down your form at his coat wrapped around shoulders, before his eyes met yours. He took a seat on the crate behind him, leaning back and settling into the post next to him. It was quiet a moment before he finally spoke.

“You weren’t in your cabin at dinner. Where have you been?”

You sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat. “Thinking.”

“Thinking? About what?”

“About my future,” you said shakily, shoulders slumping. “Both the imminent one, and the one to follow based on what I decide tonight.”

Sturmhond nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, if I’m being honest.”

You raised a brow at his words. He’d been thinking about your future? He’d been thinking about you? The thought was both intriguing and terrifying, and you hoped the confusion on your face wasn’t too apparent.

“Well, I…I’m sorry, what?”

“Your future directly impacts me,” he quickly corrected, suddenly steeling his face and meeting your confusion with his usual grin. “Where you go I go, remember? You are paying me, after all.”

You tried to hide your disappointment, forcing a smile. It was a foolish hope to have, that he’d think something more of you. But it wasn’t a hope you were ready to give up. 

Not just yet, at least. 

He seemed to notice your disappointment, brows furrowing. “Have I upset you?”

“No,” you quickly replied, trying to brush it off with a laugh. “No, it’s not you. I’m just not quite sure what I should do. I know you need an answer, and Ravka needs an answer, but…I don’t have one yet.”

“Why?” 

You shook your head, sighing in frustration. “Earlier, I had more than halfway made up my mind. I value my freedom, but I think I value my dignity more. I don’t think I could go anywhere and face anyone, knowing I’ve turned my back on my duties. It may have not been a promise I made for myself personally, but it is a promise I had every intention of keeping.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, a genuine look of concern on his face.

His eyes softened on you as your face fell, and you turned away from him as you felt heat creep up to your cheeks. You could hear him stand and approach you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“Princess?” He asked, only worsening your embarrassment. 

He spoke again, finally getting you to acknowledge him. “You’re worrying me, darling. Surely it cannot be that bad.”

“But it is,” you groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes to stave off the tears you could feel brewing. 

“Try me,” he said gently, carefully placing a hand on your arm. “You can tell me the truth. What’s stopping you from returning to Ravka?”

You could feel his touch even through the coat, which struck you like a punch to the gut when you remembered it was, in fact, his coat you were wearing. And to make it worse, that damned grin was on his face as he spoke with such a genuine kindness in his voice that it made you want to cry. 

You finally met his eyes, taking a sharp breath. Shit, you thought to yourself. You were really going to admit it. He eagerly awaited your response, which you finally managed to utter. 

“You.”

He sucked in a breath, withdrawing his hand. He looked up at the sky for a moment, before taking another breath and turning back to you. 

“Me?” He asked. 

“You,” you said again, exasperatedly laughing. “You, and your ridiculous clothes, and your infuriating charm, and your kindness and ambition…that damned smile.” 

Sturmhond’s cheeks flushed, and he took a step back, although he was grinning like a fool. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. You didn’t dare speak, waiting for him to say something. After an agonizing moment of silence, he leaned against the bannister, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” You forced yourself to ask, preparing yourself for his answer. 

“Saints, Princess…you’ve gone and done it now.”

You shook your head, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. “What?”

“You’ve managed to outdo me. On my own ship. Quite the feat, I’ll give you that,” he laughed, still grinning. 

You narrowed your eyes, still shaking your head. “Sturmhond, I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re saying to me right now. Will you do the honor of enlightening me, or are you going to stand there grinning at me all night?”

“You like my grin,” he mused, making you flush.

He spoke again, saving you from your embarrassment. “And it just so happens that I like yours, too. I like all of you. Very much so indeed, Princess.”

Your heart lurched into your throat at his words, and you had to grab ahold of the bannister behind you to keep yourself steady. He placed his hand over top of yours, his palm warming yours. 

“I cannot believe you beat me to the punch. It’s rude to upstage a captain on his own ship. You’re lucky you’re royalty. I’ll allow it just this once.”

You had just now calmed your breathing, beginning to take in the weight of his words, and what it meant for you both. “Sturmhond, I—”

“I have a confession to make,” he suddenly said in a very serious tone, startling you. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I must tell you something before either of us share something we can’t take back.”

“Alright…” You said uneasily. 

Carefully, he took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You let him hold it, waiting for him to speak. Absentmindedly, you comfortingly ran your thumb along the back of his hand, silently reassuring him. 

“My name isn’t Sturmhond,” he finally said, the nerves in his voice the worst you had ever heard them. 

Trying not to jump to any hasty conclusions, you nodded, squeezing his hand once more. “Alright…if it isn’t Sturmhond, then what is it?”

“Well, technically it is, but it also isn’t. It’s just a nickname—” He rambled, and you placed your other hand on top of his to stop him. 

“I gathered that much. What else are you trying to tell me? Go on, you can say it.”

He took a deep breath, his voice soft. “It’s true that people call me Sturmhond, but I’m much better known for my birth name…Nikolai. Nikolai Lantsov.”

The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. You tried not to flinch in his grasp, but you knew he could feel you stiffen. You cleared your throat, feeling your voice begin to grow hoarse

“Nikolai Lantsov…as in Prince Nikolai Lantsov, second son of the Ravkan throne? Moi tsarevich,” you croaked out, attempting to curtsy. 

“Please,” Nikolai said, holding both your hands in his to keep you from bowing. “There is no need for such formalities, darling. If anything, I should be the one bowing to you.”

You stood up straight, shaking your head. “We’re long past that, don’t you think?” 

He chuckled, nodding. “I suppose so.”

The reality of your situation began to set in, and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling along with him. He smiled at the sound, raising a brow. 

“What is it?”

“I suppose my little dilemma is solved then,” you said, shrugging. “I was beginning to spiral, thinking my annoying habit of not being able to contain my feelings had ruined any decision I could have made. But of course—in your usual fashion—you’ve managed to upstage me. As is your right, it is your ship, after all. Well, I suppose there’s no decision to make now. At least, I think there isn’t…right?”

Any nerves you had mustered up were immediately squashed when Nikolai brought his hands up to cup your face, running his thumbs across the tops of your cheeks.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take you wherever you wanted to go. All I can hope now is that you’ll allow me to join you…wherever that is.”

You brought a hand up to rest against his wrist. “Don’t you want to go home? You’re expected back in Ravka any day now.”

“I love my country, but I’m in no hurry to return. You’ve told me multiple times how dreadful court was for you—”

“That doesn’t matter,” you quickly said, squeezing his wrist. 

“Of course it does! I cannot ask you to return to a country you’ll be miserable in for the rest of your days for a man you barely know.”

“It’s a good thing you aren’t asking, then,” you reaffirmed, giving him a smile. “I told you. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. I said that I was afraid I would be all alone at court, and that I was afraid the man I am promised to wouldn’t want a life with me.” 

“What a fool he’d have to be to not want that,” Nikolai joked, making your grin widen.

You continued to reassure him, not convinced that he was believing your words. 

“You say that you’ll follow me wherever I go. Well, I want to go with you. Wherever that is. And I want you to go home. I may have not known you for long, but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you won’t truly be content if you’re tied to my wishes. And I know you’re too stubborn to admit that, so I’ll tell you my wishes, and I need you to believe me. I wish to be with you. I wish for you to return to wherever feels like home, and I wish for you to take me with you. If that’s Ravka, then Ravka will be home. Court will become much more bearable with you there. And if it begins to become too much, I know a certain privateer that can whisk us away for a few days.”

He was doing it again. Smiling like an idiot. He seemed to be in disbelief at your words, this being one of the very few times in his life that he couldn’t find the right words to say. 

“I didn’t mean to trick you, Princess. I should have told you who I was from the beginning.”

You shook your head. “I don’t blame you, Nikolai. If I was given the chance, I wouldn’t have told you who I really was, either. At least, not until I knew I could trust you. I would have done the same as you did. It’s alright.”

“I can’t believe my luck,” he grinned, taking your hand. “How is it that my betrothed managed to stumble upon my ship the very hour I returned to Ravka?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not one to believe in fate, and it sounds impossible.”

“Not impossible…improbable,” he corrected, smirking when you playfully narrowed your eyes up at him. 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile at your turn of luck. “Are we doing this? Are you going home to Ravka?”

“Are we going home, you mean? I can’t be expected to abandon my betrothed when she turns out to be the single most invigorating person I’ve ever met, now can I?”

“You cannot,” you agreed.

A comfortable moment of silence passed between you both, and you looked down at his hands as you held them in yours. The familiar glint of green on his finger made you chuckle. 

“I knew it, by the way,” you added, grinning. “This coat and that ring are far too ridiculous for a privateer. They’re fit for royalty. Fit for a Lantsov.”

“Am I to understand that you’re not interested in a Lantsov emerald for your engagement ring?” He asked, smirking when you quickly shook your head.

You laughed, pulling his hand closer to inspect his ring. “I said nothing of the sort. I was merely observing how ridiculous it is, as well as this coat. But I’m still wearing it, aren’t I? If I’m going to be married to a ridiculous man, I should begin preparing now, shouldn’t I?”

He narrowed his eyes, playfully jutting his chin up at you. “You just like the coat and want to keep it. It’s alright, darling, you can admit it. We can have your own fitted for you, all you have to do is ask.”

Nikolai gripped the hem of your sleeve, tugging you closer by the arm of his coat. You let him pull you, chuckling nervously when he drew you nearer. 

“I admit nothing, only that my future husband has a taste I will have to acquire. But I’m sure I’m up for the task. We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

“We do,” he smiled, settling his hands around your waist. “Although I’ll have to admit, I don’t think we know each other well enough to become husband and wife.”

You tensed under his hold, and he quickly retracted his statement, shaking his head. He didn’t give you enough time to truly panic, interrupting your train of thought. 

“And that’s perfectly fine, darling. Like you said, we have all the time in the world to get to know each other. I think I’d like to take advantage of that starting now. After all, it is our last night on the ship, isn’t it? At least, I assume it is. I expect you’ll want to set a course for Ravka now. Unless you’d rather I get down on one knee, and make a big show of it first. I can do that, if you wish.”

“I certainly wouldn’t stop you,” you chuckled, letting your hands rest on top of his as your tone shifted to a more serious note. “Are we really doing this, Nikolai? Returning to Ravka? Getting married?”

He smiled wider, a twinkle in his eye as he looked down at you. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you stepped foot on my ship, the second I laid eyes on you. And I’ve wanted you more every day since. I’m not one to believe in fate either, but I do think the Saints may have gifted you to me. Who knows what I did to deserve it, but you most definitely won’t find me questioning their will if you’re the result.”

You felt your heart swell at his words. He was right. Of all the ships in the harbor, his was the one you found yourself on. Of all the captains in Ravka, he was the one who took you in. The man you were supposed to marry, and you found yourself falling for him long before you even knew who he truly was. If that isn’t fate, then what is?

“I’ll take all the influence from the Saints I can get when it comes to explaining to your parents why I’ve disappeared right out from under them,” you said with a groan, leaning into him. 

Nikolai chuckled, holding you close. “My Mother will forget all about it when she sees my future safely secured with marriage. There is no need to worry, trust me.”

“I may not have to worry about her, but I do need to worry about Tamar,” you said, letting out a pained chuckle. “I think she staked money on our little situation.”

“She most definitely did. I expect Tolya will be paying up when they hear the news. Who should break it to him?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I think that duty lies with you, as my future husband. If I’m going to have to listen to Tamar’s endless bragging about being right, then you should have to take half the burden in the form of telling Tolya. That’s how marriage works, isn’t it? Half and half. It’s only fair.”

It was his turn to groan now as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, taking yours in the other. 

“Alright, I’ll do it, but you have to accompany me. I think your presence will help soften the blow. What do you say, darling? After all…it’s only fair.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, squeezing his hand. “If I must. You’re lucky you’re pretty, Lantsov.”

“Darling, I’m lucky for a lot more than that,” he smiled endearingly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

— A/N - Hi! This is SO long, I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been busy and had no time to write. But I finally forced myself to get this done, and now I have more time to write! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you think! Thank you again for the requests :)

#grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine

[byeol-ssi]

nothing more, nothing less

Kaz Brekker was acquainted with different monsters. Those wrapped in expensive silk and bathed in sickening perfume. Those who spouted beautiful lies, enticing unwitting men into their dens. Those with hands stained crimson, preying on children and fools alike. His reflection on a mirror.

But the green-eyed beast proved to be a terrifying match.

Or, Kaz gets jealous.

✦ kaz brekker x gn!reader | grishaverse

✦ tags: jealous kaz, lieutenant!reader, (kind of?) enemies to lovers, set sometime after the events of crooked kingdom

"Brekker."

"Darling," KAZ drawled without looking up at your arrival, his tone more mocking than affectionate. "You're two bells late. Do you have the—"

A roll of parchment zipped through the air, landing in the middle of his desk with startling accuracy and ruining the neatly arranged blueprints spread atop it.

"I told you to quit calling me that," you muttered darkly. "One of these days, I'll really cut off your tongue."

He huffed, concealing his amusement. He enjoyed calling you all sorts of endearments after discovering how easily they riled you up.

There are times when Kaz allowed himself to feel, to act, like a boy again. Reconcile with a distant past, one that echoed Jordie's voice and carried the smell of fresh grass.

This was one of them. Similar to a child, Kaz reveled in your attention. Regardless if they came as threats, insults, or downright disdain.

He'd swallow a bullet first than ever admit it, though.

"How terrifying," he said, unfazed, and made swift work of straightening out the floor plan you brought him.

Silence fell, interrupted only by the soft shuffling of papers. From the corner of his eye, he noticed you shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Normally, Kaz would come up with some sort of excuse to make you stay, but it seemed that something was on your mind.

And so, he waited.

You cleared your throat. "Do you need anything else?"

No, but thank you. You did well. Please, get some rest, his thoughts supplied. He ignored them. Instead, he simply settled on, "No."

His movements stilled. The question was unusual, especially coming from you.

"Nothing more, nothing less," you had once told him, seated on the ledge of a stadwatch tower that overlooked Ketterdam's shores. He'd nodded in agreement back then, mesmerized by the early sunlight that caressed your face.

You lived by the old saying for as long as Kaz has known you. After all, when you grew up in the Barrel, you'd learned early on that acting out of the goodness of one's heart only left a person broken. Penniless. Or worse, dead.

As such, you weren't the type to seek additional assignments without an offer beforehand. The fact that you had gone out of your way to ask was... suspicious.

His eyes finally flicked to yours. He could never afford to look at you for too long, as it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to stop once he started.

He cocked his head to the side and searched your gaze. "Why?"

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. He rarely indulged you in idle conversation or pried into your affairs.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Because despite everything you've been through together, this was the nature of your relationship too. Neither of you tried to change it, even after every scar he unraveled and laid at your feet.

Even after numerous nights spent confined in his office, shoulders almost, but never brushing one another as you pored over schemes for hours.

Even after repeatedly saving each other's necks and during the intimate silences that followed when the adrenaline wore off. Moments taut with charged tension, heaving breaths, and unspoken truths.

"I've got plans," you explained rather cryptically.

"Plans? Has someone else hired you for a job? I hope you don't forget that you belong to—"

"No, someone asked me out on a date."

Me, insisted the voice in his head, rich with desperation. You belong to me.

Kaz scoffed in disbelief. "A date? In Ketterdam?"

Fear clawed its way up his throat, determined to make itself known. It warred with another emotion he was too proud to name.

This... feeling was absurd. Sentimental. Kaz was no stranger to loss.

The seas granted Inej her freedom. A new chapter awaited Jesper and Wylan. Nina stumbled upon a second chance at love. Matthias found peace.

Yet, deep down, each farewell left him a little more empty than the last.

You were bound to Ketterdam only by virtue of being the Dreg's sole lieutenant. In truth, nothing else was preventing you from leaving.

Leaving him.

After promoting you, a tiny seed of guilt buried itself in his cold, wretched heart when he realized he held you back. That he never gave you the opportunity to pursue your dreams. Your position forced you to assume several roles, to fill in the shoes the others had given up.

But his greed outweighed his guilt and Kaz was a selfish man indeed.

The mere idea that someone could whisk you away from him brought forth a hateful bitterness from within.

"Where is the unfortunate fellow taking you?" he asked, keeping his voice deceptively calm.

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the jibe. "It's a quaint little bar called 'none of your business.'"

Nothing more, nothing less. The phrase taunted him now. The green-eyed monster inside him rattled his ribcage ferociously, driving him to boast.

He curled his fingers around the desk's edge tightly. "Funny. I run the entirety of the Barrel, and I don't recall an establishment operating under that name."

"I'll have you know that he actually owns the place he's bringing me to," you snapped defensively.

Good, good. More information.

"And how long have you known each other?"

You shrugged. "A few weeks."

The answer relieved him somewhat. His possessiveness ebbs, its rhythm steady, before it swelled again, rising with the current of his emotions. One should always be more sure of everything. He'd learned that the hard way.

"And he's aware of who you truly are?" Kaz pressed on. "Of what you do?"

There were only a handful of possibilities. The person could have ulterior motives for approaching you. It wasn't unlikely, considering your power was only second to his.

Perhaps it was a spiteful soul he'd wronged, plotting to take advantage of you and get revenge on him.

On the other hand, there was also a chance that they weren't privy to your true identity. He couldn't blame anyone for wanting you but it was common knowledge whispered in the streets that Kaz Brekker was a man unwilling to share.

Anyone who didn't heed that advice and went against it anyway was just recklessly bold. Or stupid. The Barrel never seemed to run out of those.

This time, you broke away from his gaze. "It doesn't matter." You sniffed, feigning indifference.

The person didn't know then, he surmised. You probably met him during one of your undercover assignments, disguised and masquerading around with an alias.

Sensing his disapproval, you attempted to defend your date-to-be by adding, "He's kind. Sweet. Honest."

Everything he was not. The words, sharp as glass, ripped him apart. Crushed him with an overwhelming weight of sorrow.

"It seems naive of you to form an impression of him in such a short amount of time," he said through gritted teeth.

Pretending as if he didn't care should have been easy for him. Right now, all his years of experience in perfecting that charade were useless.

You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is cynical and distrusting of the world like you. People can be good, Brekker."

And you deserved everything good and more. Better people could love you, he knew.

Someone who would not flinch every time you drew near. Someone who would freely kiss away your every fear.

Kaz had survived gunshots. Knife wounds. Sickness, nightmares, and grief. But the very thought of someone else soaking in your warmth was an ache he could not bear.

He felt the words scorching his tongue, his demons voicing them with unbridled cruelty. "There is a difference between being cautious and acting like a love-sick fool!"

Your eyes widened in shock, hardening in anger a second later; then they softened with disappointment, and all Kaz could see was the reflection of himself, a frenzied animal. A blown fuse. Inhumanely hollow.

He opened his mouth to speak, beg for your forgiveness, but you had already turned and walked away.

"I'll come back when you aren't hissing at me like a wet cat," you said, slamming the door behind you.

Kaz clenched his gloved hands into aching fists and hung his head, trying not to think of how jealous the idea of another man made him.

He wasn't too late. Dealing with his emotions was uncharted territory for him but scheming came as effortlessly as he breathed.

Kaz never lost a fight and he wasn't about to start now. Even if he needed to play dirty. His greed outweighed his guilt and he wasn't called Dirtyhands for nothing.

"Brekker!"

Kaz had just finished speaking with another gang member, Roeder, when he heard the heavy stomp of your footsteps, followed by the frustrated yell of his name. You appeared on the stairway landing soon after, rage thundering in your wake.

"You're dismissed." Kaz waved to Roeder. His eyes shifted to you momentarily and cast Kaz a wary glance. Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, he scurried off, slipping past the both of you.

Kaz began to ascend the stairs, you trailing behind him. He could sense that you were shooting daggers at the back of his head, probably cursing him out silently.

"You're back early," he finally said once you entered his office. He circled back to the same place you'd left him hours earlier and sat in his chair. "How'd the date go?"

You stormed closer, wedging yourself between him and the desk, stopping him from hiding behind the pretense of work.

"You know exactly how it went," you snarled.

In spite of your anger, you remembered to maintain your distance. Not once have you commented on his aversion to skin-to-skin contact, though he was certain you harbored your own questions.

"I'm afraid I don't, darling." He raised his chin to hold your gaze, his expression carefully blank. A tailored mask. "I wasn't there."

"You had him taken by the Dregs." The hurt on your face was unmistakable, enough for Kaz to feel a tad remorseful.

It was hardly sufficient, though. Screw righteousness, old habits die hard. "Ah, I had no idea he was your date," he lied again.

"Bullshit."

"But, what I do know is that he laundered money from our coffers and forced children into building the same tavern you were just in."

Kaz went over records of the jobs you'd accomplished in the last two months. After connecting the dots, he successfully identified your date and paid Roeder to look into his background. It was pure luck that the man was a merchant who managed to con Kaz's old boss.

Pulling the strings for his capture was practically child's play. Not that he'd ever tell you that.

Your fury dissipated, replaced by defeat that slumped your shoulders. "You were right," you said quietly, avoiding his eye once more. "I'm sorry."

Kaz rose from his chair and stepped forward. Taken by surprise, you backed away instinctively, only to find yourself trapped by the desk now digging into your hip.

"Let me make it up to you," he spoke with an unfamiliar softness. It almost sounded wrong.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What?"

"I ruined your evening. I could have ordered the others to seize him after you finished dinner."

But I didn't want him to walk you home. Wrap his coat around your shoulders. Kiss you goodnight at the Slat's doorstep. Kaz would've probably loaded his pistol at the sight. Broken every limb that touched you with his cane.

You snorted. "Okay. Are you going to give me whatever we steal next? Increase my cut?"

"No, although we can discuss it another time. I'm inviting you out on a date."

You blinked once. Twice. Slowly, you said, "Brekker, you ask someone out when you like them."

His lips pulled into the slightest frown, mildly impatient. "I know."

"You don't like me."

"Whoever put that silly idea in your head?"

"You did. You don't like anyone."

"I may not be the best at showing it, but you know that there are exceptions to that rule," he argued. "Especially when it comes to you."

He continued to lean over you, ignoring the pressure of panic beating against the walls of his chest from the proximity.

"You called me an idiot," you countered. You refused to move a muscle, most likely out of consideration for him, but he closed the distance himself.

He dipped his head further. "Again, I never said that."

"Fine," you conceded, sounding fond. "You implied that I was an idiot."

"I'll be kinder from now on," he promised. "I can try to be sweet, if you give me time and chance to learn. And I'm being honest right now."

Nothing he could do would ever atone for his sins. But although he was renowned as the Bastard of the Barrel, he was prepared to do it right by you.

Hesitantly, you raised a hand. Every inch of his flesh wanted to turn itself inside out, but every bone in his body yearned for your touch.

A quivering sigh escaped his throat as you reached for his cheek, your fingers warm and gentle on his skin.

He braced himself for the familiar scent of death. The ocean. He willed himself to focus on the details that made your face. The line of your jaw to your ear. The slope of your nose. The curve of your lips, hanging onto them as if his life depended on it.

It did, in a way.

"Your answer?" he rasped, suppressing a shiver.

You dragged your thumb against his skin in a delicate but paralyzingly manner and whispered, "I accept."

He had never been held with such tenderness before. Your touch made him feel like he was somewhere else, far from the memories that haunted him.

Growing concerned, you attempted to withdraw your hand but Kaz grasped your wrist before you fully could. He steadied himself with your pulse, each beat, each hymn, anchoring him to the present.

He was here. With you. In his office. Nothing in the world could hurt him.

Eventually, he slid his own gloved hand so that your palms pressed together. Your lashes fluttered and you asked, "Is this really happening? Are we really going on a date?"

He hummed in affirmation. "And I'll do it properly."

Seriously, who in their right mind would bring you to that side of Ketterdam? He took the sealed envelope containing your dinner reservation from inside his coat and handed it to you.

"Thank you." Your mouth curved into a shy smile. "And for the record... you don't have to be anything else other than yourself."

"Ruthless, callous, and dishonest cheat?" His voice held a hint of insecurity, betraying his attempted nonchalance. It was a question hauled from the inner depths of his soul, the boy inside him who wondered if he could ever be worthy of love.

"You forgot insufferable," you teased, although your earnest gaze belied the lightness of your tone. He knew you could see right through him. "But, yes. Just you, Kaz. Nothing more. Nothing less."

At that moment, Kaz knew you would be his salvation and destruction. You could shatter his heart and every single piece would still cry out for your name.

He squeezed your hand. Soon, he'll make you, and everyone else in the Barrel, realize that he had no intentions of ever letting you go.

✦ byeol’s notes: new year, new fandom ?!

✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you so, so much in advance! <3

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz x reader #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc x reader #kaz rietveld #grishaverse #✦ foreign seas. #grishaverse x reader #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #six of crows x you #six of crows x reader #kaz x you #kaz x y/n #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone

[swanimagines]

MASKS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: You are incredibly beautiful but you have always been insecure of your own face, so you wear a mask. But in the middle of doing a heist, the mask breaks.

Ever since childhood, you hadn't liked what you saw in the mirror. Your nose was too big. Or too small. Your lips were too thin. Or then they looked like a bee had just stung them. Your eye color was bland. You just bashed yourself in front of the mirror every morning as you had brushed your teeth, and other kids at your neighborhood didn't really help with that - kids could be cruel if they were given a reason for it.

So, that day you moved into Ketterdam, you made yourself a mask before anyone got to know you. A beautiful white mask made of porcelain, with cat ears and a red stripe going over your eye. It fit perfectly around your face, hiding any imperfections behind its perfect curves.

You joined the Dregs, a gang ran by a young man who was barely 18. Kaz Brekker wasn't interested about your mask, he only wanted to know how you could fight and you were in. It didn't take long after that before you joined the heists with him and the other five people who called themselves "Crows". You quickly had made friends with them, spending evenings with them and finally feeling like you had a family again.

Kaz ended up growing something more than just your boss. It took a while, but he let his walls down with you, took a faint hold of your hand when you were worried about your wounded friend and even tried to comfort you, although he wasn't a master in it. In turn, you had showed him your face, let yourself be vulnerable too. He had looked at you with so much love you thought it's uncharacteristic of him, but at the same time you felt how your cheeks grew hot as you felt cared about for the first time in years.

Jesper had seen your face too, but it was by accident. He had barged in to Kaz's room because Wylan was missing and he was scared out of his mind and walked straight to the bedroom, just in time to see you sit up and your eyes met his. He froze for a moment before you ducked your head and took your mask, and Jesper knew better than to question it. He told you that Wylan is missing and you sprang into action immediately, dressing up and hurrying out of the office.

Turned out Wylan had been fetching Jesper a cake because the sharpshooter's birthday was the next day. Thank the Saints you found him first, so the surprise wouldn't be ruined.

A few months from that, and you were on another heist. Another merchant in the city, who has bragged about his fortunes a little too enthusiastically. In Ketterdam, you had to remember that someone was always listening, and this time that someone was Inej. A week from that, and you were at the manor of that merchant.

Kaz had ordered you and Jesper to keep watch at the hallway as he worked on the hidden safe around the corner - the merchant was smarter than he looked, he had put a safe inside a safe, and hid that behind a large and incredibly heavy bookcase. The blueprints were done wrong as a distraction, and Kaz had cursed himself over not realising it. So it had taken a while to actually get on the safe.

Footsteps were heard from the right, and Jesper's hand immediately went to his other gun. A few guards bickered about something, and Kaz halted his movements upon hearing that too. Jesper met his eyes, and he nodded towards the guards. Jesper started making his way towards them and you glanced at Kaz who started working on the safe again.

You hadn't known what was happening before you already felt a blade on your throat.

"Don't move, bitch," said a voice behind you. His breath had a bitter scent of garlic and you scrunched your nose at it.

The man with the knife pressed hard enough to cut your skin but didn't draw blood yet. A thought of him killing you and going after Kaz next crossed your mind, an d that thought made your heart start racing faster and adrenaline kicking in.

You knew it was stupid. Irresponsible. You should wait for Kaz to deal with it, he by no doubt was already thinking what to do to save you. But you weren't a lady in distress, you refused to be.

So you stomped on his foot with all your might and when he grunted, you elbowed his jaw. The knife made a scratch on your face and you heard something shattering - probably a vase on the drawer next to you. You started giving punches to the brute until he laid on the ground unconscious, and then turned back around to see all your friends gathered there to see what's the noise about. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing they were all alright and walked up to them as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't pay attention to it at first, but then you noticed that they were staring at you.

"What?" you asked, frowning.

"Darling, your mask..." Kaz mumbled, looking over at the shattered piece of art you had been wearing for the past half a decade.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

"Oh," you whispered and suddenly felt self-conscious as you turned away from your friends. Your cheeks burned like hellfire, even though nobody was saying anything about how you looked ugly underneath this disguise. Though, they had probably stared because they didn't recognize you at first, not because of how you looked. But it still felt like the latter option, and the echoes of what the kids in your neighborhood had been saying to you when you were growing up.

"Okay, we got what we came here for, escaping through the third back door." Kaz interrupted the moment and everyone started moving out, leaving Kaz and you standing there to come as last ones.

You walked in silence side by side with Kaz, looking behind the shattered mask - its shards glinting in the moonlight as if to wave its goodbye to you. You felt like a part of you had just been ripped away, and you couldn't help but feel tears in your eyes. The whole thing happened so fast, that none of it registered until that point. Then it was too late.

You could feel the slight night breeze caressing through your face once you were outside in front of the carriage, something you hadn't experienced in years. It felt so foreign now - but somehow also comforting.

You stood there for a moment before Nina spoke.

"Hey, we don't care how you look. We still love you the same."

You closed your eyes against the sudden wetness on your cheek and nodded, sniffling. "I know."

"Hey," Jesper said. He walked up next to you and handed you a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Thanks," you sniffed and wiped at your tears.

Jesper cleared his throat. "It's weird to see you without that mask. You're not ugly, you know. Not really."

You looked down at the cloth in your hands and gave a watery laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've always been ugly."

"No, you aren't. This is what beauty feels like. This is what real beauty would be like."

"Oh," you said softly, biting back more tears.

He glanced at Kaz who was looking at you with something looking like concern. "Kaz is lucky to have you, you know."

You couldn't help but smile a little at that, and everyone started to board the carriage, Jesper being the driver and standing beside the door.

Jesper smirked as he helped you board the carriage, "I know what we just said but just a suggestion, love; you should consider being a model, we could pull out pretty neat heists if you went on a modeling show with rich pigs and turned over their pockets."

You couldn't help but smile at the suggestion - maybe you could finally get rid of the feeling of insecurity you had felt since you were a child.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagines #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse #female reader #reader insert #my works

[futurecorps3]

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

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

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

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

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

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

He just hated that feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . ° .

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

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

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

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

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[crvptidgf]

Whipped

Kaz Brekker x Reader

➸ summary: just as you start to think that Kaz is incapable of basic human decency, he proves you wrong (in his own, Kaz-like way)

➸ warnings/notes: none

word count: 1.2k

————————

ONE THING YOU quickly learned about Kaz was that he never showed outward emotion. In fact, sometimes you weren’t too sure he even felt any at all. That was what everybody said - Kaz was robotic in the way he interacted with people, hardly sparing a thought on the well-being or opinions of others.

While it wasn’t far off the truth, you knew there had to be more to him than a void machine with no care for anybody but himself. He was still, after all, human (despite what anybody else might say).

It wasn’t without reason that he gained his infamous aliases. Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, Demjin. That’s why it surprised you when you started getting nervous around him. Not the kind of nervous that most people felt with Kaz, but more like a stupid, naïve school-girl kind of nervous. Why? You could probably name a million reasons.

Putting aside all that he has done and all that he is, Kaz was genuine. Perhaps not like how Jesper and Inej were - and sure, he didn’t have the softness that Nina held, or the undying open affection that Matthias bared for his lover, or even the sweet, lovable awkwardness that Wylan had. He was, however, intriguing in his own way.

He was brutally loyal to those he deemed worthy; his mind worked unlike anyone else you had met; and he never, ever, took shit from anyone - no matter if it was a stranger off the street or one of his Crows. Not to mention that he always seemed to be 2 steps ahead of his foes, which was something you admired greatly. These special qualities made him who he is and you couldn’t help but fall for his cold and calculating personality.

There was always a wall separating him from being honest with people, his lack of trust and need to be in control too strong to ever let up. Yet bit by bit (or brick by brick) his shell started to gather cracks and crevices in the shape of you.

You had somehow wormed your way into his icy heart. Of course he would never dare admit it to himself, much less say it out loud, but deep down he knew. And he hated it.

He hated that he remembered your favorite color. He hated that he knew exactly how you liked your tea in the mornings. Most of all, he absolutely loathed the fact that you, out of anybody he has ever encountered, managed to become his biggest weakness.

Kaz always prided himself on his nonchalant façade. Nobody could ever read what was going on inside his mind and he worked hard to keep it that way. Until you came along. Until you wrung and twisted his insides until he couldn’t take it anymore - the thoughts of you so polluted in his mind that he couldn’t help but chastise his childish behavior.

He wasn’t a boy anymore. He didn’t have crushes (although what he felt for you was a little more than a measly crush).

All of this to say that, when he saw the small smile that tugged on the corner of your lips whenever he did something thoughtful for you, he actually found that he didn’t mind being reduced to a mindless, clueless idiot around you. He actually realized that he liked making you happy. This epiphany scared him. But if tossing and turning at night, his mind completely overtaken by you, meant that he could see your grin light up the room just one more time, he could live with it.

You, on the other hand, had no idea of his inner turmoil. Yeah you knew he was a bit gentler when you were around (not by much, you noted), but that could be for a multitude of reasons. Surely Kaz Brekker, the notorious Dirtyhands, didn’t take a fancy to you of all people. Right?

These thoughts were however thrown from your mind when you awoke to your floorboards creaking, the sound alerting your fight or flight response. Constantly being in imminent danger does that to a person. You can never be too sure when death would knock on your door.

Yet when you slowly reached your hand under your pillow for your dagger (a gift that Inej had graced you with on your first birthday at the Crow Club), a voice stopped you from your worries.

“It’s just me. No need for any violence so early in the morning.”

Turning in your small but cozy bed, you were met with a somewhat startled looking Kaz. He wasn’t expecting you to wake up - he should’ve forseen this. Saints, he was losing his game. He always did when it came to you.

“Oh,” you replied simply. “Did you need something?”

Kaz’s lips formed into a line, something in his hand shuffling as he mulled over his thoughts. He should leave, he thought. But he didn’t. Instead he stood at the foot of your bed like a total creep, his eyes traveling over your face so quickly that you almost missed it.

“Breakfast,” he said, throwing the bag that he previously toyed with in his hand.

It landed with a soft thud on your bed, the brown paper almost unfolding as it reached your knee. Picking it up slowly, you looked towards Kaz for any indication of what it was. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was inside.

It was a sugar-roll. Something you had been craving for months, but could never seem to get your hands on. There was only one bakery in the Barrel that sold these, and it was on the complete other side of the city.

“How did you- Where-“ you stumbled over your words, utterly struck by surprise.

Kaz spun his cane in his hand, the crow's head glinting in the sunlight that peeked from your window.

You never thought you would see the day, but he hesitated before answering.

“Had some business to attend to. I just happened to walk by that bakery that you’re always harping on about.”

So he did listen to your meaningless rants. Nina had mentioned the bakery a while back, and you and her bonded over your shared enjoyment of the confectioneries that they sold. You didn’t think Kaz actually heard it, much less remembered what your favorite pastry was.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

Kaz nodded, retreating backwards as he responded. “Hopefully now you’ll stop bugging me about that stupid roll of yours,” he said.

While his words were harsh, you could see the glint in his eyes as he spotted your excited expression, your hands pulling the doughy goodness out of its bag. In his own backwards way, Kaz was as whipped as somebody like him could get.

As he limped out of your room, the comfort of your presence leaving him, he spotted Jesper outside the door, smirking.

“What,” Kaz snapped.

“You just happened to walk by?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, sighing. He continued to walk, ignoring Jesper’s attempts to annoy the man.

“That bakery is at least 30 minutes away,” he stifled a laugh, “you need to think up better lies, boss.”

“Tell anyone and you’ll never see your guns again,” Kaz said, knowing there was no point in lying any more. He cast a backwards glance at his friend, who immediately put his hands up in defense.

Jesper smiled to himself as he was finally left alone upstairs. He was going to have so much fun taunting that over Kaz's head in the next few weeks.

The Bastard of the Barrel - whipped.

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #six of crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #grishaverse fic #grishaverse fanfic #kaz being kaz #grishaverse fanfiction #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone series #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x fem!reader #six of crows fandom #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse fandom #kaz rietveld #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone

[heliads]

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things:  either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him:  he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top. 

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily. 

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer. 

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagines #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker oneshot #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse oneshot #kaz #kaz imagines #kaz x reader #kaz oneshot #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone oneshot #six of crows #six of crows imagines #six of crows x reader #six of crows oneshot #grishaverse kaz #grishaverse kaz imagines #grishaverse kaz x reader #grishaverse kaz oneshot

[writing-havoc]

Hey! How're you? I hope you're well.

I absolutely adore your works and I hope it's okay to make a request? It's just a little idea I had, sort of inspired by your latest fic :)

Where the reader is a part of the crows and one night she finds this small child outside the club and she feels really sorry for them and brings them into the club and tries to help them? Maybe with a bit of Kaz x reader? Whatever you feel inspired to write to be honest :D

I hope this is okay, I love your works so much! 💖💞

Enough

♡ Summary: You do your best to care for a little boy you found while Kaz cools down

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Hunger, Child Abandonment, says Yn twice

♡ WC: 4.6k

I could have sworn there was a mention of like, a café by name in the books somewhere but I couldn't find it? I just made one up but man this is gonna drive me crazy lol

Anyway, here you go! I hope it is to your liking and tysm for the request and kind words <3 so glad my fic could inspire!

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Finding a child in an alleyway was not something you expected to tick off your bingo card so soon. Taking the child with you to the Crow Club with plans to look after him wasn't even on the card. And yet, here you are.

He's small, top of his head barely reaching your belly button, and his hands are freezing from where they hold onto your own.

You had found him not twenty minutes ago, and planned to just leave him there like any sensible person. But unfortunately, you're not as good at turning your moral compass upside down like everyone else.

So you got his attention, approaching his little shelter and offering him the last slice of bread you had swiped from someone's open kitchen window. He was hesitant to reach for it, hands slowly edging toward you as if you'd rip it away any moment, and with a certain gentleness took the piece from your hand and began to nibble on it.

His clothes were dirty, dipped in whatever dirt the Barrel has rubbed off on him and drenched through to the bone. Things were coming apart at the seams and the soles of his shoes you can tell were about to separate from the rest.

You had asked him where his parents are, and your heart immediately sunk when he looked away and towards the canal, his tiny nibbling seizing.

That was what snapped the little string you had holding you back, the other side tied to your sense of reasoning.

He's just a kid. You were just a kid once. Arguably still are. You'll be damned if you had to watch someone who was no older than 7 go through the same fate you did.

But your sentiments were short lived, starting and ending with you, as the moment you stepped through the doors of the Crow Club with the kid clutching your hand, Kaz was narrowing his eyes and his teeth were gritting.

You glared at Dreg members around you, daring them to stop you as you made your way to the back of the club where all the alcohol is stored. Nina and Jesper were setting up chairs, and you gave them a blank look as you entered the room, the sound of metal thumping rhythmically following.

"Yn." A rough gravelly voice calls behind you.

You ignore it, looking at the kid. "Is it alright if I lift you up? Just to here, hun."

In the softest voice you ever heard, the kid says "Yeah." and allows you to put your hands under his arms and lift him onto a crate.

"Yn," Kaz calls again, making your blood simmer.

There's really nothing you can do here. The Club is going to open in a few moments for the five o' clock rush and there's not any spare clothes. You'll have to wait until you can go to the market later to fetch him some clothes and bathe him at the Slat.

The ferrule of a cane drags across the floor, and you roll your eyes.

"Give me a moment, okay?" You say to the kid, waiting for him to nod before turning around, exiting into the main bar area.

"Are you mad?" He hisses at you, hand gripping his cane so hard you can see it shake. "What could have possibly made you think bringing a child here would be a good idea?"

His anger isn't too surprising. But if you're being honest, it's annoying.

"I was thinking that he has nowhere to go." You say, voice low as you walk away from the door a little more. Kaz follows you, eyebrows still snapped together and a hardness to his jaw you don't think you've ever seen directed at you. "He was outside and shivering inside a make-shift shelter made out of fruit crates and a tattered towel. He needs a place to stay."

"I don't care what it needs. It has no place here." His eyes flicker to the kid.

You cross your arms, anger bubbling in your chest. "He is not going anywhere. He is cold, and small, and hungry, and we have everything here and at the Slat to keep him comfortable."

His eyes snap back to you. "This isn't a daycare. We can't just swing our doors open to any lost kid you manage to find on the streets. This is the fucking Crow Club."

"I know damn well what this place is, Kaz." Your jaw hurts from how hard you're clenching it, head starting to pound at your temples. "I'm not blind nor incompetent. But he can't weigh more forty pounds and he's way past the age for that to be acceptable. I cannot, in good conscience, let him go for him to starve and eventually die on the streets."

He goes to say something, but stops, eyes flickering around your face. Your jaw is set, features no doubt mirroring his as you stand your ground, hands on your hips and feet stood apart.

"Please, Kaz."

You don't care that he runs this place. You're not about to be pushed around and bullied into staying complicit while this kid dies.

And he knows this.

So he closes his eyes, looking away from you as he takes a deep breath, collecting himself. His hand is no longer shaking, but you can tell he's still angry, ready to swing at both the imaginary and the physical.

He takes one last breath and looks at you, eyes only just softer than before. "You are responsible for him. He's hungry? You feed him. He's hurt? You fix him." The crows head of his cane comes up to look at you. "If he causes trouble, you deal with him."

You smile for only a moment before you push the cane away from your face, his barrier down. "He's well behaved. It'll be fine."

"You better hope so." He mumbles under his breath, walking away slightly off rhythm.

You watch him leave, members parting when they see his mood. A few even nearly knock over a chair when he gets a bit too close, Nina and Jesper arching their brows as he disappears out the door.

A few people are staring at you, eyes hungry for gossip and a glimpse at the kid you ushered in not minutes before.

You ignore them in turn for trying to figure out what to do with him.

He's sitting on a crate of Kaelish whiskey, legs shut tightly and dangling off the side, arms wrapped around his torso. But he's looking around, taking in the stockpile of alcohol.

"Alright, first things first." You say, leaving a crack in the door as you step into the room. He's jumpy, staring at you with analyzing eyes. "What's your name?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but then pauses, quickly shutting it.

You chuckle. "Listen, kid. Whatever you've got to hide, I don't give a shit. You're in the Barrel now, the only names that matter here are who you've decided to roll your dice with and those who call themselves bosses."

He thinks about it then, eyes narrowing and feet rubbing against eachother inside his tattered shoes. He wets his lips.

"Leopold."

It's... a little far from what you were expecting. You just barely stop yourself from snorting. "You'd have been better off lying."

His face blossoms in red, embarrassment clear as he begins to shut down.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry." You're still smiling so it doesn't help much. But you kneel down in front of him. "It's customary here to at least make light fun of others when you first meet them." He's not convinced, but he's a little less prickly now, so that's something. "Is Leopold what you'd like to be called? Or is there a different name you have in mind?"

Again, he thinks about it.

"Leo, is fine."

"Leo is much better." You pat his knee, standing up.

His cheeks are still red, but you can tell he feels a little more confident now.

The arms that were tightly coiled around his waist have loosened, resting on his legs. His feet are swinging, just barely, and his back has straightened.

A thought comes to mind when you see his shoe begin to slip off his foot.

"How hungry are you?" You ask.

And before he can answer, you hear a rather loud grumbling from his stomach, and a bit of a pained expression falls on his face.

Your smile drops a little. "Well it's good to see you haven't got comfortable with being hungry yet. Come on." You wave him over as you swing the door open. "We're going to get some waffles."

"Waffles?!" You hear from your left.

Leo jumps in surprise, not expecting the voice.

You, however, were expecting it. Counting on it, even. "Yes, Nina. You can come if you want!"

It's faint, but you can hear her go "yes!" and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. "No need to ask me twice!"

You look at Leo as he approaches the door, hands fidgeting with eachother.

"None of that." You say, tapping his hands, which in turn makes him fling them apart. "When you walk out of here, in front of all those people, pretend to be confident."

His eyebrows knit together, so you take your finger and smooth it out. "You don't have to actually feel confident, but those guys out there? They're vultures, and I dont think you have the heart to take the amount of teasing and bullying they'll inflict on you if they see you fidgeting like that." You grab his shoulders, and watch in amusement as he stiffens into a board. You give him a thumbs up, then tilt his chin parallel to the floor, bringing it out of its nook in his chest. "Fidgeting is reserved for those who have earned their place here, when everyone knows that if they mess with you, you'll hold your ground."

He's sweating, and his eyes are big and wide, but it's a little better than whatever he had going on before.

You usher him out the door, closing it behind you. People are still staring, and others are giving mean side eyes, but you ignore them, smiling at Nina from where she stands by the door.

Her face gets wider when she sees Leo next to you.

"Oh you're the little bugger that had Brekkers panties in a bunch." She leans down, ruffling his hair. "You and I are going to get along swimmingly."

Leo cringes, scrunching in on himself and away from her hand. He's absolutely not pleased, you think, as Nina takes her hand back.

Lazily helping him sort his hair back out, you start to wonder what this kid even likes.

"Nina, this is Leo. Leo, this is Nina, greatest wolf tamer to grace Fjerda's soil."

Nina scoffs, kicking her leg out and knocking your shin with the toe of her boot. "The whole world, thank you very much." She turns out the door, holding it open for you both as you exit.

You do your best to keep the kid close as you make your way through the streets, idly chatting with Nina as you shove Leo around into various alley ways when you see someone you don't have good relations with and pulling him away from an oncoming carriage when he gets lost staring at the boats that roam the canal.

He has to be an artist's son, or maybe a writer's. You don't know anyone who just stops in the middle of the road to look at boats doing their job and floating on water.

It's actually a miracle you make it to the little diner in one piece.

Inside it smells strongly like shitty coffee and various breakfast foods given the hour, much to both you and Nina's delight.

You're just happy to be out of Barrel air for a moment. Even if you were only just across East Stave and a two minute walk would plant you back in the slums, you swear the air quality just immediately skyrockets the second you cross the bridge.

The menus of this place are built into the tables, Grisha engraved into a thin piece of metal while a thick card on a rack displays the specials.

A booth a little ways away from the corner suits your group well, though you do regret not giving Leo a wipe down before coming out here.

It does seem like he attempted to clean himself off. Probably while Kaz was lecturing you. The dirt that was under his fingernails seems to be picked out, and the smudges on his face are considerably fainter.

It's a good thing you didn't walk into one of the nicer diners around here. But from your experience, the shittier the establishment the better their food will taste.

If you don't feel at least a little unsafe walking by it then it's probably not worth the kruge.

You shimmy into one side of the booth first while Nina slides in on the other side. Leo follows after you, sticking as close as he can while still giving you a bit of arm room.

"Alright." You smile, looking at the little breakfast section, scooting in just a bit more so Leo can look at the menu as well. "I know I said waffles, but really you can order anything you like."

"You're paying, yes?" Nina asks.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Nina. I'm paying. Though do try and feel a little guilty for my poor pocket."

She doesn't say anything, eyes roaming over the whole breakfast section rather than stopping on just the waffles like usual.

Maybe you'll get some lunch to balance out the sugar that's about to grace the table.

The smallest of taps tickles your shoulder. "What's this?"

He's pounting at the menu, the item catching your eye. "Ah, I forgot these places give awful names to their foods. It's an omelet," you clarify, "with little veggies mixed in. Probably cheese in the middle."

His eyes go wide as you mime the size of such a dish with your hand.

"Would you like it?" You ask, gently probing at the little bits of personality that have managed to unravel themselves in the short time you've known him.

He looks at you, hesitant as he nods. "Yes please."

You smile. "Nice choice, kid."

The praise makes him smile, just as a waiter comes and begins to take your orders.

Of course, Nina gets a few plates of waffles with various toppings that she found interesting with a plate of toast, Leo gets his omelet with extra cheese, and you indulge yourself with a pile of hashbrowns and eggs over top.

Mixing it all together on your plate always sends Kaz into a frenzy. You hope he can feel the monstrosity being prepared and weeps at the sin you're about to commit.

"Does that man hate me?" Leo suddenly asks.

You scrunch your brows, discreetly looking around. "What man?"

"That man from before, that yelled at you." He says, rubbing his finger over a fork he received. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Nina chuckles. "Kaz is just like that. Out of everyone in that place your protector here is of the least likely to get in trouble."

You smile at that, thinking of Kaz's tendencies.

What Nina said isn't exactly true. You get in trouble just as much as the rest of them. Kaz just forgives you easier, is more willing to talk and come to a compromise.

Tonight you'll walk into his office and he'll still be steaming, angry at you for not clearing such a major change with him. He'll glance up at you, shoulders stiff and that cavern between his brows only getting deeper.

But if things go right, that edge he has a habit of keeping sharp will dull, his jaw will slacken, and his eyes will soften. He'll still be the hardstrung mini boss hell bent on making up for the past, but he'll settle down in the present for a little while, drinking the warm tea you set on his desk and heart a bit more open to you.

"No, I'm not in trouble." You fix his collar. "Just have some explaining to do."

Leo frowns, opting to pick at the metal menus. His leg is bouncing up at down, temples flexing. "So he is mad at me?"

You glance at Nina. She has a tightness to her lips, not knowing what to say either.

A joke, then. "He's not allowed to be mad at you before he meets you. However, I will be mad at you if you piss yourself in this booth."

His cheeks turn scarlet, not knowing where to look anymore. "I didnt know where the bathroom was."

"It's fine." You look towards the back, pointing to a hallway. "Down there, there's a bathroom. Lock the door behind you and knock before you go in."

He looks a little angry when you say that, but gets up and sulks his way over to the hallway. At least he already knows basic manners, then.

You turn to Nina, a deep sigh escaping your lungs.

She snorts. "I can see you turning older from where you sit."

You kick her foot under the table. "I couldn't leave him. Can you check up on him when we get back to the Club? I don't imagine he'll want me poking around at him trying to find a wound that doesn't exist."

"Seeing as you bought me breakfast, I suppose I have to return the favor."

"Thank you." You grab her hand, the both of you squeezing. "I'm sorry for tricking you."

That makes her let out a belly laugh, a short "ha!" while her cheeks glow. "If your tricks always start out like this then you wont see me complaining. Besides," she looks towards the back of the diner, "he's a cutie. Wouldn't want him dropping dead anytime soon."

"I'm mostly just worried about how calm he is. I mean, would you be this fine with a stranger picking you off the street and taking you to get food?"

Nina sighs, giving your hand another light squeeze. "Im not sure he knows he should be afraid. Which is more of a curse than a blessing. He's what, six?"

"Probably? My oldest quess is seven, but with how small he is compared to how well-mannered he is he could be ten for all I know."

"He'll be fine. And so will you. Just take it as it comes as all the advice I can offer you. He's probably going through shock."

Leo slides back into the booth, hands slightly damp from what you hope is water and not urine. Somehow the food is already done within the short amount of time you order, and a waiter is sliding the dishes onto the table.

The omelet doesn't stand a chance in front of a young boy, and a quarter of it is nearly gone before the waiter leaves.

You spare a glance at Nina, who's looking at the rapidly disappearing slab of eggs with amazement."Well if he wasn't before he definitely is about to be."

-----

You tuck the kid into bed, freshly washed and with a clean set of clothes on his body. His hair was actually a much lighter shade of brown than you thought, and beneath all that grime rested a few freckles and an old scar.

Nina had checked him all over for any sort of injury, and found nothing besides a bit of high blood pressure, which wasn't surprising given he was absolutely starving.

A bit of food in him for the next few months should help tremendously, you think.

He just got done stuffing himself with some soup you made for you and the Crows, ignoring the fact that the Slat was filled to the brim with people who also wanted some. It was enough for them that you pointed to a box of recipes and some spare ingredients, cheers sounding throughout the building.

Kaz had took his and disappeared up to his room before you could say anything, still visibly irritated.

Nina thinks he's about six, which could be why he's relatively quick to trust.

"Are you sure he's not mad at me?" Leo asks, patting down a pillow you just sewed together and bring you out of your thoughts.

You squat by your bed, head in your hands. "Maybe," you sigh. "But it's not from anything you did. He just doesn't like to be mad at me so he's using it up on you."

"Thats not very kind."

You want to wrap this kid up tighter. "No, it's not." Instead you turn the lantern beside your bed down to a very low flame, creating a soft glow throughout the room. "But it's Kaz."

Leo takes that explanation like a champ, like he actually understands what that means, and let's his eyes fall shut.

You pick up the hot tea you made earlier, using your key to lock the door behind you as you make your way over to the attic.

Strangely, you feel anxious as you ascend the stairs. The tea shakes in your hands, rattling a little against the mismatched saucer plate. But you open his door and are met with the exact situation you predicted earlier, your shoulders relaxing.

"Tea will not stave my mood." He turns over a piece of paper, setting down an ink pen.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You set the tea on his desk, avoiding the wells of the door. "I am simply offering a nice cup of tea for my nice boyfriend who is totally not about to shove his nice cane up my nice ass."

"The last place my cane will go is up your ass." He sets the page down, looking up at you. "That's incredibly unsanitary."

You root around on his desk, looking at the various papers he's marking and reading through. "And the blood isn't?

"Arguably easier to clean." He takes a packet out of your hand and replaces it with a different one. "Educate me as to why bringing a child into my club was a smart decision."

Immediately you deflate, falling back into a chair. You cringe when the wood digs into your bones.

Honestly, you already told him everything. He's small, food was available, you had space he could occupy, why not?

"I've already told you, Kaz. I had the ability, and I dont really see a reason why not. Why don't you educate me?"

He looks about ready to strangle something, exasperated sigh shoving it's way out of his lungs.

"What are you going to do on the ocassion he gets in the line of fire? How are you going to react if his parents find him? When they take him back? Can you say with absolute certainty that this child wont destroy you?" He stands with every question, looming over his desk with his hands splayed over the surface.

"Could you have said that about me when we got together?" You counter.

It's a rare thing, to see Kaz go quiet and contemplative.

You don't particularly enjoy it.

"I can't say that should any of those happen I won't be a little devastated. But is it really justifiable to push him out just because he has the potential to hurt me?" You stand too, the packet still in your hand. "As you said, he's my responsibility. When it comes to that, I'll take the fall. You don't have to be as worried as you are-"

"I do." He interrupts. "I do, because he's important to you. And unfortunately our moods and overall state of mind have an overwhelming effect on the other."

You take a moment to look at him, purple blotches under his eyes and his scars highlighted by angle of the light. He's exhausted, and it kind of hurts to realize some of that might have been your fault.

But you're not sorry.

"He thinks you hate him."

"I don't know enough about him to properly hate him."

You smile as he sits down, bringing the cup of tea with him. He's far more relaxed than before, and is just this side of tired that you see his eyelids begin to weigh down, a deep breath is all it takes for the tension to leave his brows completely as the warm beverage meets his mouth. You swear you hear him moan when he feels just how warm it still is.

"Thats what I told him, but I don't think he believes me."

"Suck to suck. Look at the packet."

It's rather thin, you realize, black string tying the pages together. On the front, which you skimmed and didn't really read earlier, it says "Tips for new Adoptees".

On the inside are various tables and notes Kaz seems to have scrounged together, his messy cursive completely filling the pages to the point you have trouble figuring out where a thought ends and another begins.

"Huh." Is all you say, chest heavy and feet scuffing the floor.

You dont... you don't know what to say. You're reading something about how much a child costs but you're not really taking it in. It's more than you could have ever imagined.

Kaz sets the tea down. "I imagine Leo isn't going to be the last. You know where the extra paper is."

He makes your heart so warm. It makes it hard to be annoyed at him for doubting you.

The stairs leading up to the attic creak, and immediately you and Kaz are on guard, your hand moving to your back where little daggers decorate your belt.

Leo's face pops into the room, and you immediately relax, an exasperated sigh exiting your lips. "Hey, Leo. What's going on?"

He inches into the room, hands tentatively still holding onto he door. "I feel bad about going to sleep in your bed. And I wanted to say sorry for doing what I did, Mr. Kaz."

Kaz quirks a brow. "And what is that?"

"Um..." Leo freezes, looking away. "I don't know."

Immediately you look at Kaz, raising your own brow. He gives you a look that you know would kill you if it could, and you smile.

"Leo, come here and meet Kaz." You wave him over, setting the packet aside.

He hesitates, making a move to walk into the room. But when his eyes land on Kaz, he stops.

"He doesnt bite." You try and crack a joke, and while he doesnt laugh, he does drop his shoulders and release the iron grip from the doors side.

Kaz stands and walks around the table, limp pronounced as usual without his cane as Leo closes the door and makes his way across the room.

They stare at eachother for a few moments, coming just a few feet apart behind your chair. You watch their eyes scan over the other, Leo eyeing Kaz's limp and little scars and Kaz inspecting Leo' clothes and the way his ear is slightly folded inwards.

Surprisingly, Kaz offers his gloved hand first, and Leo takes it almost instantly. You watch as they share a firm handshake, nodding at eachother.

"Please to make your anquaintance." There's a slight fumble to Leo's words, and it takes everything in your power to not interrupt their moment and correct him.

But Kaz just nods, releasing their hands. "Pleasure is all mine."

You smile, the little interaction forever cemented into your soul.

Leo definitely isn't going to be the last kid coming through here. Not when Kaz let's a smile pull at his lips just so, and makes a pen appear out of thin air for Leo to look at.

For now, however, this is enough.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Tags:

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @a-candle-maker @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kylie18 @morrigan-crowmwell

#ask #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows x y/n #six of crows x you #six of crows fanfic #six of crows imagine #grishaverse x you #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse x y/n #fanfic #imaginesfire

[syllvane]

soldier, poet, king - tolya yul-bataar x reader

a/n: reader is sister of nikolai, feminine pronouns are used but no physical characteristics are ever described. ty for all of the love <3

Your brother would fire him if he found out that you had even considered Tolya in a romantic way. Not out of any disdain for him- out of anyone you could have grown fondness for, you were sure that Nikolai would prefer Tolya over the numerous suitors that waited for you back at Os Alta, but out of a protectiveness of you, as if you weren't perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

“What are you thinking about?” Tamar asked, leaning against the wooden side of the ship, bright eyes looking at you.

”Nothing.”

“You know I can tell when you're lying.”

”When has that ever stopped me?”

Tamar scoffed, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.

“Never,” She said, her eyes shining. “I don't know why I even ask, your heart only beats like that when you're thinking about my brother.”

Your heart jumped and Tamar let out another breathy laugh, feeling it without any effort.

“Too easy.” She said smugly and you rolled your eyes.

“Not funny.”

“Speak for yourself, moya tsarevna.” She said and you cringed at the title.

“As soon as Nik becomes king, I’m banning you from using that title.”

“Not Tolya though?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and gave her a look.

“I’m going to push you off this boat.”

A firm arm went around your shoulders, startling you and from the other side of you, Tolya grinned down at you.

“Now you know I love you, but why are you threatening to throw my sister off the boat?” He asked jokingly and you prayed to every Saint that your heart wasn’t going as fast as you felt it was.

You looked at Tamar and instantly regretted it, barely contained laughter on her lips.

“As first mate, I demand it.” You said stoically in response, a small smile on your lips and Tolya raised his eyebrows, removing his arm from your shoulder.

“Well, we should at least run it by Sturmhond.” 

“Oh who are we kidding, he’d choose you over me everyday.” You joked, able to relax more now that you weren’t in direct contact with Tolya.

“I’ll choose you then.” Tolya said and your smile softened at the sweetness of the sentiment.

“Spoken like a poet.” Tamar teased and Tolya scoffed, but beamed at the accusation.

“Do you think you would be happy, living a life like the one Nikolai and I had?”

“Back in the castle?” Tolya asked and you nodded. “I mean, I know you’re both going to go back eventually. Me and Tamar will be there as your guards.”

“Not as guards though, as… forget it, I’m just being silly.”

Tolya looked at you, studied for you for a moment with only the moonlight illuminating your features, peering off into seemingly endless sea.

“It’s not silly.” He said, moving so that he was ever so slightly closer to you. “I’ve never really thought about it before. Do you think I’d make a good noble?”

“No,” You answered quickly. “You’re too kindhearted. You’re too good.”

“So are you.” Tolya argued and you smiled.

“And I’m hardly the picture of good noble, I ran off with my older brother to play pirate- sorry privateer.”  You said. “I’ve always been a better soldier than princess, much to my mother’s dismay. I used to sneak off and follow Nikolai to his basic training instead of go to etiquette classes.”

Tolya snorted and you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.

“I’m glad you skipped your etiquette classes, I like you how you are.”

Your heart jumped. Tolya looked over at you but didn’t say anything.

“Why do you ask? About me being a noble?” He pressed and you shook your head.

“As much as maybe me and Nik want it to, this can’t last forever. We have to go home at some point, him to try to take the throne that Vasily has never wanted, and me to sit around as set dressing, I suppose. To get married. I just… it really is silly, Tolya.” You said, standing up and preparing to walk away before he stood up and quickly caught your wrist, making you look at him.

“Tell me.” He said softly, letting go of your wrist. “Please.”

You took a step closer to him before grabbing his hand and putting it on the cloth covering your heart.

“Do you really not know?” You took a deep breath, painfully aware of how fast your heart was racing. “I’m not asking for marriage or anything like that, I’m asking… I don’t know what I’m asking.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His hands moved to your shoulders and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours gently. He pulled away, his hands still on you.

“As long as you will have me, I will be here.” 

#tolya yul bataar x reader #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #tolya yul-bataar x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #six of crows imagines #six of crows imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #tolya and tamar #nikolai lantsov

[unactive-shroom]

Hi!! Could I get prompt #8 w/ Kaz Brekker?? Thx!!

(Oh and a fluff ending if possible)!!

*Prompt #*8: Trouble in Paradise ♡ 

“You and your partner spent the day before Valentine’s arguing and yelling. Will you make it up before Valentine’s is through? Or will this years Valentine be the worst yet..?”

Character: Kaz Brekker. Valentine's Event: Here

You turned over in bed, alone. Yesterday you and Kaz had argued and yelled for what felt like hours. You were just tired of Kaz not talking to you - never telling you before a mission would happen, not telling you about a mission he had earlier - heck, you found out from Jesper that Kaz had gotten badly hurt on his bad leg during a mission that you had heard nothing about. That was what had started the argument. You had always respected Kaz’s wishes, never complaining about the limited hours you had to spend with him, or judging him for the things he’d done, the blood on his hands. You kept your distance when he needed it, never complained about only being able to brush hands with him, occasionally a kiss. All you asked was that he told you before he went on a mission, in case it would be the last time you saw him alive. The argument had ended when Kaz had said that he didn’t need you, didn’t need anything to drag him down. Silence, thick like tar had enveloped the crow club after that. You both stared at each other, and while Kaz’s face remained unchanged, you could see the regret trickle into his eyes as he realised what he had said. You had simply turned on your heel and left, heading for Nina’s flat across the city. She let you stay the night - no questions asked.

It was now early morning, grey and wet, rain showering down on the pavements casting an even more miserable shadow on the morning. You left Nina’s apartment without waking her, and headed down to 2nd harbour, knowing Kaz avoided the area because of the increase amount of Stadwatch stationed there. You didn’t bother check if Inej was trailing you - Kaz was planning a big heist tomorrow, and Inej would be trailing their target for the day. At least, that’s what Jesper had told you. Kaz didn’t tell you anything anymore. Anyways, even if Inej had been trailing you, you wouldn’t be able to tell. The only time you stopped was to buy some fried potatoes for breakfast from a street vendor, the greasy warmth being your only source of heat against the blustery Kerch weather. Upon arriving at 2nd Harbour, you simply stood at the wall, watching the ships come and go from the harbour wall. You needed time to think. Was your relationship with Kaz actually working? When did things start to go wrong? He was right, you were dragging him down, holding him back. Sourly dumping the remainder of your fried potatoes in the trash can behind you, you turned and went to walk down the steps leading to the narrow strip of grey, lifeless sand beside the water, before slipping on the wet cobblestones and landing in a heap at the end of the stairs. You cursed as you unsteadily stood up, noticing a long gash up the length of your forearm. Great, you thought bitterly, just what I needed. Luckily there was few people around and no one had seen your tumble, but it was motivation enough to leave your brooding and return to Nina’s to patch yourself up.

Just as you were coming up the back entrance to Nina’s flat, you heard his voice. “Nina, if you don’t tell me, I will gut out this whole flat and throw it all in the Kerch sea - where is y/n?”. He was yelling, and sounded strange, concern laced in his voice. “Inej was suppposed to be trailing her, said she came here, but left early this morning for second harbour. By the time I got there, she was gone. Where did she go? Did she leave Ketterdam? God damn it, Nina, just tell me already!” You briefly considered leaving Kaz to wonder where you were, show him how it felt when he was gone, but you thought better of it. Pushing open the back door to the kitchen, an immediate silence enveloped the kitchen. Kaz and Nina looked at you, wide eyed. You watched his eyes travel from your eyes, to your wild, tangled hair from falling down the stairs, to the dried blood over the gash on your arm. He made an immediate start and limped over to you, gently taking your arm and inspecting the wound. “…Did someone do this?” He asked, looking at you with intense eyes. You looked back at him, anger growing from the pits of your stomach. How could he just waltz back in here and expect everything to be fine between them? You pulled your arm away harshly, saying nothing, and made your way up the stairs to Nina’s spare bedroom. As you were reaching the top, you heard Nina say “I think you really messed up this time, Kaz.”.

You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to tie the bandage around your arm with one hand and your teeth, blinking back tears of frustration. A tentative knock sounded at the door. You ignored it, turning to try get a better angle to tie the bandage around your arm. The door opened and shut, and despite having your back turned to him, you knew it was Kaz. His all too familiar cane clicked against the hardwood floor as he approached you. Both of you said nothing as he sat down beside you on the bed, your back still turned to him. After a few minutes of you still struggling with the bandage, he stood up, and knelt in front of you. You knew it must’ve been hell to kneel on his bad leg, but still, you couldn’t meet his eyes. “Please, y/n.” His hand gently took your arm again, and he gently wiped away the dried blood on your arm that you had missed in your frustration. He bandaged your arm carefully, and as he sat back up beside you, he kept a gentle hold of your arm. Carefully turning your face to look at him, he wiped away the tears that were cascading down your face and said simply, “I’m sorry.”, and for the first time in a very long time, he opened his arms and hesitated, before letting you cry onto his shoulder. He said very simply how he didn’t mean what he had said, and apologised for not communicating with you. He didn’t need a grand display of apology, you knew he meant every word of what he said .

Before long, you and Kaz had left Nina’s house and were walking arm in arm along the exchange. “I did have flowers, but they kind of got trampled on my way here.” he muttered, glancing at you. You looked at him incredulously. “I’m sorry, Kaz Brekker - ‘Dirtyhands’, ‘Bastard of the Barell’- was walking around Ketterdam with flowers? Why on earth -?” He elbowed you, looking sour. “For you, obviously. You think I enjoyed looking like a sappy moron walking around? Look, I’ll get you something else instead. How about-” He pointed at a very expensive looking diamond necklace in a shop window. “-that? We’ve broken in there before, it’s an easy job, just say the word and it’s yours.” You pulled him along, laughing. “Kaz, we both know well that I don’t need a gift as an apology. We just had an argument, that’s all”. “You don’t know what day it is? February 14th, y/n. Don’t tell me you got brain damage when you took a trip down those stairs?” You looked at him blankly, not registering the date until - “Oh! It’s Valentine’s!” You gasped, and Kaz shook his head, smiling. “Wow, Kaz, you really are terrible, fighting with your partner on Valentine’s day.” He chuckled, giving you a funny look. ”Yeah, out of all the things I’ve done in my life, that’s the most unforgivable.” “mhm! you owe me big time”.

Needless to say, after a whole evening spent with Kaz talking and playing cards, you woke up to a pretty piece of jewellery sitting on your pillow, with a note that reads “Maybe don’t wear it out for a few weeks, they’ll probably be looking for it. Lunch at Cilla’s at 12?”

A.n: Happy Valentines! I hope Kaz wasn’t too OOC, It’s been awhile since I’ve read any of the grishaverse books. Thanks for requesting!

#~Eden's Valnetine's Event #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #grishaverse x reader

[sophierequests]

i have a request, my love! nikolai lantsov x reader

y/n is the sunshine-y, sweet person who literally brightens up any room. and she caught nikolai's eye and he tries to make his move but everytime he tries to talk to her he finds himself... well, unable to get proper words out. he can't string together a single sentence. y/n picks up on this and teases him ('cause he's obviously known as a flirt) and makes it a bit harder before she finally asks him out herself

you take my breath away

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x f!Reader

A/N: *screams because this is such a cute idea* Omg omg omg, I LOVE THAT IDEA, EL! Nikolai being nervous and flustered >>> Thank you sm for the request, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy reading this <333

Summary: What happens to the oh so charming Nikolai Lantsov when he starts crushing on a someone that - quite literally - takes away his breath?

Genre: Comedy, Fluff

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: Mention of sword fighting, pining, oblivious!Nikolai, slightly suggestive ending if you squint, Zoya being an icon

“Zoya, I really don’t think that all of this,” he ambiguously gestured at the array of files in front of him, “is as good of an idea as you think it is.”

The Squaller groaned, hauling the papers towards herself again. The two of them had been wasting their time in his sitting room for hours on end, flipping through files and files of eligible royal women that could become Nikolai’s future wife. It was hell - for both of them - but Ravka needed a queen. So as king, it was his duty to find someone that could rule alongside him.

If he would be completely truthful, he already had someone in mind. Someone that was roughly his age, not promised to anyone else and of royal blood. Meaning, that someone would tick all of the necessary boxes.

You were one of the rather newer Ladies at Ravkan court. Your parents were a duke and duchess who he didn't necessarily remember meeting. Yet, ever since he first laid his eyes on you, he was absolutely smitten with you. You'd be an excellent choice. He really liked to think that. You got along with everyone you interacted with - at least to his knowledge -, you were kind, well-spirited and utterly lovely. You were a literal ray of sunshine, and he couldn’t get enough of you. It was almost like you were born to be a queen - his queen.

Everything seemed to be so perfect. The only issue was that he couldn't even get out one word before his brain went into shutdown when you were around. He had tried and tried to strike up a conversation with you, only to fail miserably. It was as if all of his usually flirty demeanour had been stripped off of him, and he was left with the confidence of an insecure stuttering teenage boy. He had been with countless women before but never had he been left this helpless.

The first time he attempted talking to you, was probably already enough of an embarrassment for you to never give in to any of his advances.

Nikolai had just finished another terribly draining conference and, as much as tried to get his mind off of all things political, he still had another dreadful load of paperwork waiting for him once he reached his sitting room.

He has been so lost in thought, that he didn't register the other person that was coming around the corner. And with both of you not paying any real attention to where you were going, you ran straight into him at full speed. But before he could - quite literally - knock you off of your feet, his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady. It took you a minute to break free from your daze when you noticed who you were currently staring at.

"Oh Saints! Your Highness! I'm so incredibly sorry. I should have watched where I was going." You apologized profusely, taking a step back to give him a bit more personal space.

"Don't apologize, it's fine!" He started grinning like a fool after he realized who he was talking to. Your hair looked slightly out of place - probably a side effect from almost toppling over - but somehow, you still managed to look absolutely magnificent. His heart couldn’t help but skip a beat while he watched a faint blush rise to your cheeks.

And when a wide smile began to grace your lips, he almost thought that he would pass out. In a treacherous motion, he could feel that his own cheeks started to warm up now. How he hated this.

"Oh, thank you, Your Highness! I have just been so lost in thought that I didn't watch where I was going."

"Please, it's call me- I mean, please call me Vas- Nikola! Nikolai. Please call me Nikolai." Well done, he couldn't even introduce himself correctly anymore.

"Alright Nikolai," you let the name roll over your tongue slowly as if you were trying to savour its taste, "I'm not one for titles either, so feel free to call me Y/N." He wanted to answer, to say or do pretty much anything else, instead of just gaping at you as if you had grown a second head.

You had expected him to offer you a cheeky comment or a flirtatious smirk in response, but the cogs in his brain still seemed to process your words. It was odd, and not at all what you had expected. You had heard stories about the smug and cocky Ravkan king, who was never too shy to hand out brash compliments or whisper promiscuous promises into the ears of any young woman that would give him more than one minute of her time. The man standing in front of you seemed to be anything but that.

Before you could open your mouth to break the uncomfortable silence, a voice calling out his name and the clicking of heels could be heard coming from the corridor right next to him.

"Nikolai? Nikolai! Did you forget that we still have some correspondence to take care of today?" A slightly agitated Zoya came into view, eying you from head to toe, however, still giving you a polite nod.

"I should better get going. I didn’t mean to keep you from your work, Nikolai. Enjoy yourselves!” You gave him one last smirk before turning on your heels and continuing your way down the corridor.

“Thank you!” He didn’t even know what exactly he was thanking you for. “Have a great evening!” Zoya stifled a snort when she heard that.

“Nikolai, it’s not even time for lunch yet. The poor girl will think that she’s the one going crazy.” She remarked, her eyes drifting from watching you leave to Nikolai’s still mildly flustered state. She’d definitely remember this.

“Why don’t you just marry Lady Y/L/N? She fits the criteria, she probably doesn’t plan to strangle you in your sleep, and you seem to have found quite the liking in her. That’s probably the best choice you have.” Zoya exclaimed, falling back into her chair as she continued to stare Nikolai down.

“I can’t.”

“And the reason for that is…? You need to give me more than that. I may be extremely lucky to have this many talents, but mind reading sadly isn’t one of them.”

“Keeping secrets isn’t really one of your many talents either, Zoya.” Nikolai averted his gaze, thinking that looking through another mountain of profiles would be way more comfortable than having to explain why he didn’t think that courting you would be possible.

“Lantsov, you’re not getting any younger, and you’re sure as hell not getting any prettier, no matter how long you’re trying to postpone this. Just tell me, and we can move on!” She was seconds away from tossing his royal ass out of the window but getting thrown in prison for the murder of the literal king wasn’t too desirable.

“I’m certain that she believes me to be an absolute fool.” The young king sighed, hiding the embarrassment on his face with one hand.

“Many people do. It would surprise me if your future wife wouldn’t think of you as such.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. I can’t even formulate one coherent sentence whenever she is around, and it is driving me mad! Whenever I attempt to make a move on her, every single logical thought abandons the ship and leaves me gaping like a fish on land.” He mumbled defeatedly. “She has to assume I’m just looking for an excuse not to be around her.”

This time, Zoya didn’t hold back the laugh she had been holding in. She didn’t know what she expected, but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Won’t you look at that? Ravka’s Sweetheart gets all hot and bothered in the presence of a girl he likes.” She took a sip from the glass of wine she was holding before returning her attention to a sulking Nikolai. “She’s the most suitable choice, Nikolai. Keep on pursuing her, until you’re one hundred per cent sure that she isn’t worth it. And maybe she thinks your nervousness is endearing? That would be a bit pathetic, but that seems to be your type.”

Apparently, Zoya also seemed to have a gift for clairvoyance, because her last two statements held more truth than she had envisioned.

You had picked up on Nikolai’s odd behaviour whenever he was around you quite soon after that first hallway encounter. At first, you thought that there had to be something wrong with you. How else could it be explained that you were the only girl at court he just couldn’t hold a conversation with? But soon enough you realized that it wasn’t apprehension, but genuine fluster that made him act like this. And it felt terrible admitting it, but you enjoyed using this information against him.

It had been three days since your last brief encounter with the king, and your mind was putting your quest of teasing him on the back burner. That was until you silently crept into the library of the Grand Palace, only to find him hunched over a heap of books, occasionally taking notes or letting out a huffed breath.

“Nikolai?” You mused, sauntering over to him with an innocent smile on your lips. The blond had to do a double-take when he saw you appear from behind the shelves. Saints, someone should really open a window.

“Lad- Y/N!” He gave you a strained smile, slyly straightening his back and smoothing out his sleeves. Did his hair sit properly? Did his breath smell? Did he-

“What are you doing here this late?” You leaned against the desk opposite Nikolai, your upper body slightly bent over the table, very visibly accentuating your cleavage. You really would be the death of him.

He haggled for the right words to say, but everything inside his mind screamed at him to abort the mission. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not when the two of you were completely alone, and you looked like a literal Saint.

“Reading.” He forced out, immediately regretting that he even opened his mouth.

“Oh?” You asked quizzically, rounding the table to stand beside him, giving yourself a better look at the books in front of him. One of your hands rested on the backrest of his chair - dangerously close to touching his neck or playing with his hair - and the other hand laid on the edge of the desk. “What are you reading?” You could have just turned the book around to see for yourself, but you were set on toying with him for a bit.

“Ravkan and Fjerdan poeti- political relationships.” He had to stifle a cough after he felt the soft breeze of your breath hit his neck. You were close. Very close.

“Care for some company?” Nikolai’s eyes met yours as he considered the possibility of having you stay here. He would probably get nothing done, but he had the chance to finally make a move. That’s what he imagined, at least.

“Gladly.”

“Very well then.” That’s all you needed to hear before pulling out your own novel and sitting down in the chair right next to him.

As he had already suspected, he couldn’t even get through one page without allowing his eyes to wander towards you. And whenever he caught himself doing so, he had already forgotten what he had read only mere seconds before. He knew that you were quite literally just trying to read your book, but even that simple gesture made his heart beat a thousand times faster.

“Oh dear!” You uttered after taking a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner. “I’ve been in here for almost three hours! I should really leave you alone now, Nikolai. I still have a few duties to fulfil.” A faint chuckle left your lips, as you finished speaking, watching the man next to you gawk at the clock in disbelief. Three hours had passed, and he had neither finished any of his work nor managed to ask you out. Maybe he should allow Zoya to kill him. He supposed that death would be more welcoming than whatever little spiel fate had concocted for him.

There were two more instances of you absolutely giving him hell. And oddly, both of them included a territory that he should’ve had the upper hand in. The training grounds.

Nikolai wasn’t too keen on wasting any thought about sparring or other physical activities today. But staying inside the Palace would result in Zoya berating him about finally choosing a wife, so he preferred prancing around with a sword for a few hours.

However, his attention was promptly seized by hearing a burst of loud wholehearted laughter coming from the direction of the archery area. Without thinking, he allowed himself to take a look at whatever was going on over there.

He watched you talking to one of the archery instructors, a wide smile on your face as you excitedly listened to her while she explained something to you. You looked like some sort of mythical creature out of a folksong and he couldn’t help but smile at that thought.

Something inside him told him to move and before he could even start considering all of the negative outcomes of that thought, he already began walking towards you.

“Your Highness!” The woman next to you gave him a curt nod as she noticed him approaching. You felt a grin tug at the corners of your lips as you saw who she was greeting.

“Good afternoon, may I ask what is going on here?” Nikolai tried his best to not let his gaze wander over to you. He was sure that if he’d spend too much time looking at you, he would lose his capacity to form sentences again.

“I was just about to teach Lady Y/L/N how to properly shoot an arrow. She seems to be rather interested in the craft, but I sadly don’t have too much time today to show her everything.” The teacher rasped, letting her fingers run over the wooden part of the bow.

“As I mentioned earlier, I can also come back another ti-”

“I could show you.” Both of your gazes instantly flicked over to the young king, who was currently cursing himself for not being able to just shut up. Now he had to run with it.

“Are you sure?” You asked softly, raising an eyebrow to underline your question. “You don’t have to. I assume you’re terribly busy.”

“No, I, uhm, I insist.” He reassured, taking the bow from the instructor and signalling to her that he would take over now.

Only when he thought about what he was actually supposed to do, he started to realize what he had gotten himself into.

“Archery is a delicate skill.” He began, handing you the bow and arrow. “Everything stands and falls with how adept your aim is.” You took the arrow and adjusted it on the bowstring, imitating the posture you had seen many times before. Nikolai stood behind you, carefully monitoring your moves, whilst also trying not to get overwhelmed by your closeness. “Try to, you know, uhm, aim. Aim for the heart, I mean.” Saints, he sounded stupid.

“Like this?” You asked smugly, leaning back a bit closer to him and roughly pointing the arrow in the direction of the training puppet’s chest.

“No, you need- you have to-” He took a deep breath, stepping even closer to you now. “Look.” Both his hands found their way to yours. One helped you steady your grip on your bow, while the other corrected your aim ever so slightly. Your skin felt like lightning underneath his fingertips, and for a moment, he was glad that he could simply visualize his thoughts without having to embarrass himself by being a stuttering mess.

He pulled the arm that held onto the arrow back a bit, permitting you to shoot. However, he completely underestimated your proximity, especially the proximity to your elbows. Whether that was because of his lack of archery mentorship experience or simply because he was too focused on you was something he didn't want to answer. As soon as you let go of the arrow, your elbow flew back, right into his chest with full force, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Nikolai!” You yelped, cringing at the sight of the violently coughing blond behind you. This was not how any of you had hoped this would turn out. "Saints, are you alright!?"

“Good shot." He choked out as you hastily dropped the bow to help him stand. Against all odds, the arrow had gone straight into the centre of the target, however, you had other worries to tend to.

"Did I hurt you?" Your hands held on tightly to the fabric of his sleeves, fearing that one measly blow might have managed to knock the air right out of him.

"Fine. I mean, I'm fine." He sputtered, admittedly distracted by the feeling of your hands on his biceps. Your touch was practically scorching his skin without even having to make skin contact. He was definitely going insane.

"We really should stop making violence the climax of our interactions."

This wouldn't ring true, of course.

The next time you ventured down to the makeshift training grounds a few days later, you were met with the sight of Nikolai and Tolya practising their sword fighting skills. You kept an eye on them for a while before actually venturing down to the men.

It was as if Nikolai could sense your presence because as soon as you stepped closer to the platform, his gaze met yours. This brief distraction gave Tolya enough time to deliver one heavy swing to the base of his sparring partner's sword, disarming him in the blink of an eye.

Nikolai stared at the discarded sword and then back up at the Shu man in front of him. He rarely ever lost these kinds of duels, especially not because of some minor mistake like losing his focus. Things such as the size or competence of his opponent didn't matter substantially, since he had the advantage of being quick on his feet and the knowledge on how to outsmart the majority of his competition. Only losing because you were around seemed to be another act of fate telling him that he wasn't able to function properly when you were around.

"Lady Y/L/N." The mountain of a man greeted you happily, curtly shaking hands with Nikolai before walking off to bother his sister and her wife.

Again, the king seemed to have a frog stuck in his throat. He just couldn't get a word to leave his mouth. Instead, he continued to ogle at you with a hint of humiliation flashing over his features.

This time barely anyone could really blame him for that though. Your usually bright and well-put-together wardrobe, consisting of colourful dresses or professional-looking robes, we're now replaced by the suitable training attire one would expect a Lady to frown at.

Unable to string a coherent sentence together, he raised his eyebrows, vaguely motioning up and down your body with the hope that you would understand his unsaid question. Saints, he really felt stupid.

"Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?" You laughed, skipping up the stairs to face him properly. If your eyes weren't trying to deceive you, you could have sworn that he was blushing when you approached him. "Or did my utterly enchanting appearance simply take away your breath?" He gave you an unintelligible answer before just nodding in defeat.

“It’s just that, uhm, Lady- I mean, it’s just not wh-” He attempted futilely, but you were quick to cut him off.

“I know, I know. This flattering article of clothing is not really what people would expect me to wear. But I thought it would be nice to get some training done, or else my joints might begin to rust.”

“Training?” Nikolai blurted out, utterly bewildered. It wasn’t entirely unusual for the women at court to receive some sort of self-defence training - not all royal men were as decent as he was - but it was pretty unlikely for them to indulge in actual combat training.

“I used to sword fight with my older brothers whenever I had the time to do so. I’m not particularly good at it though.” That was a slight lie. You didn’t necessarily look the part, but in reality, you were talented when it came to dealing with a sword. However, that was a fact you’d rather keep to yourself, not wanting others to see you as brash or brutish.

“Oh.” He grinned, a new idea on how to get over his nervousness popped into his head. Maybe a nice little training session would do your relationship some good.

“Oh?”

“Do you, uhm, want me to- Would you like me to train with you?” He internally patted himself on the shoulder for finally managing to string together one mildly coherent sentence. And he could pat himself on the shoulder once more when he noticed the playful nature of your expression.

“If you dare.” You teased, picking up the discarded sparring sword off of the ground.

Both of you readied yourselves - you giving him a short bow before taking the position across from him. With the motion of a hand, he signalled to begin, being quick to do so.

His first move was bold, way too bold for it to actually be effective. You parried his blow with an agile countermove, warding him off strongly enough to force him to take a step back. This dance continued for a while longer, with only a few attacks actually coming from you, while you were mainly busying yourself with fighting off his advances.

There was one move you weren’t able to fight off.

He had only retracted his hand for a split second before he sprang forward again, a fierce blow disarming you immediately. However, that wasn’t the end of it. You could’ve still reached for the weapon, but he quickly blocked that move with his own, putting the unsharpened blade to your throat and pulling you against his chest. None of that was done with any real force, but his brashness still managed to catch you slightly off-guard.

You didn’t let allow him to bathe in his supposed victory any more than needed. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you. You cocked your head to the side just enough to face him. He was already slightly overwhelmed by you being pinned against his chest, so you knew that any sense of flirtatiousness coming from you, would make his brain go into shutdown.

It took you one cheeky wink to make him gape at you again. So without thinking about it, your foot slid behind his, abruptly bringing it forward to make him lose balance. He stumbled for a moment before clumsily falling backwards, however, also taking you down with him.

With a groan coming from Nikolai, you tumbled right on top of him, staying on his chest for a second to catch your breath. When you dared to open your eyes, your face was only inches from his. If either of you had decided to be especially bold, you would have probably finally put each other out of your self-imposed misery. However, neither of you dared to do so.

You barely saw him the following week. Which shouldn’t have been such a bad thing if the failed training session from the week prior wasn’t so engrained in both of your minds. You wanted to see him. No, you needed to see him. It was time to end your teasing spree - even though you did thoroughly enjoy it - and make the first move. Because Saints know whether Nikolai would ever have it in him to ask you out himself.

“Nikolai?” You cracked open the door to his sitting just enough to look inside. His eyes snapped to meet yours, the previous tiredness vanishing from his chestnut-coloured eyes. He gave you an inviting nod, and you accepted his offer gracefully.

“Lady Y/N- Lady- I mean-” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry, this, this is starting to get embarrassing. It’s just that-”

“I know.” You stopped him in his ramblings, only leaving him with a confused expression.

“You know?” He took a sharp breath, suddenly feeling as if a rug had been pulled from beneath his feet.

“You haven’t been that subtle over the last few weeks, so yes, Nikolai. I know that you have feelings for me.” You watched as his face went through at least a hundred emotions, ranging from relief to shock.

“Wait,” He paused, his brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “You were aware of my feelings the entire time?”

“That’s what I’m implying.” Now he genuinely felt like an idiot.

“You did all of that teasing on purpose?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it teasing. I was just waiting for you to make the first move.” You gave him a playful wink, sitting down at the edge of his desk right in front of him in a last act of riling him up. “But I figured that I didn’t want to wait until I’m old and wrinkly, so I might as well take matters into my own hand.”

“Take matters into-” You didn’t allow him to finish, instead pressing a brash kiss against his lips. This could either go terribly wrong or terribly right.

Thankfully, Nikolai was ready to answer this question. All of a sudden, all of his nervousness seemed to have vanished into thin air. With a swift move, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you off the desk and into his lap whilst returning the kiss with even more urgency. He didn’t regret not making the first move now. At last, there were no words left to be said.

“Does that mean that I can finally stop wasting my time looking for your future bride?” Zoya called into the room, almost causing you to fall off of his lap. “I suppose they won’t be needed anymore.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Nikolai Lantsov: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaye-here @maximoffgxrl

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

[atlabeth]

bad luck - nikolai lantsov

summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.

a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending

At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating. 

You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you. 

Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound. 

And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you. 

Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this. 

“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”

Your grip slackened. “What?”

Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent. 

You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away. 

“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”

“Are we free?” you asked.

Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. 

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.

The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”

Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”

She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from. 

“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side. 

“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.” 

The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive. 

“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.” 

Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once. 

Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized. 

“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.” 

“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line. 

“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”

There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again. 

Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again. 

And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct. 

“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.” 

“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!” 

“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.” 

“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.” 

“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.” 

You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you. 

“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.” 

You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck. 

“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”

Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem. 

“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”

“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that. 

“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”

He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.  

But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.

You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days. 

All you had to do was keep your head down. 

-

Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.

You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.

You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did. 

“Why?” 

“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you. 

She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not. 

“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?” 

“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?” 

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.” 

You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?” 

“How did you know I was Ravkan?” 

“Your accent.” 

“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?” 

“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.” 

Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.” 

“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?” 

You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle. 

“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.” 

Your lip curled. “How astute of you.” 

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. 

“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”

“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”

“Sturmhond,” he said.

Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.” 

You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.” 

“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”

“My point still stands,” you said wryly.��

“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked. 

“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.” 

“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”

“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”

“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?” 

You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?” 

He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”  

You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.” 

“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out. 

-

Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda. 

He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks. 

“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”

She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”

You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.

“What are you playing at?” you demanded. 

“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly. 

“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?” 

Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”

“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”

His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.

“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”

“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”

“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”

“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”

You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”

“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”

“You assume I have any.”

“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.

Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.

“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”

“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.” 

“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”

“Disappeared?”

You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”

Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”

You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”

“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”

“How kind of you,” you said dryly.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”

“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.

“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.

“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”

“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”

Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.

“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”

“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.

“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door. 

“How long have you been part of his crew?”

“A few years,” she said.

“Do you ever get used to him?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”

You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”

-

You were at Sturmhond’s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.

As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly. 

“You actually came,” he said.

“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”

“We just met,” you said dryly.

“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”

“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.” 

For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief. 

“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”

“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”

“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”

“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown. 

“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.” 

You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.” 

“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ” 

You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?” 

“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.” 

“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.” 

“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.” 

“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly. 

“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.” 

She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose. 

He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore. 

“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.” 

“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly. 

“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door. 

“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”

You turned around. “How do you know that?” 

“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.” 

A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years. 

“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.” 

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured. 

“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.” 

Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light. 

Your engagement rings still matched perfectly. 

Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.” 

“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.” 

“I’m glad you went through it, then.”

“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?” 

“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?” 

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past. 

“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.” 

“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.” 

“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.” 

“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?” 

“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.” 

“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.” 

“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly. 

“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked. 

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.” 

“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.” 

“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft. 

You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”

“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said. 

“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.” 

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?” 

“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh. 

“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.” 

Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more. 

“How can I refuse?” 

Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before. 

You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time. 

Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once. 

“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.” 

You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.” 

“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him. 

You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave. 

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

[in-my-feels-probably]

NIKOLAI LANTSOV MY LOVE

Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded

Salt In The Wound

Request: Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded

Hi! This is my first time writing for Nikolai! Bear with me while I try and get his character worked out, he’s a bit hard to write for. But I hope you like the outcome! Thanks for the request :)

(Warnings: season 2 spoilers, mentions of death, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, general angsty shit, let me know if i missed anything)

—

When you arrived back in Keramzin, you found Nikolai and his crew in tatters. You had gone with Tolya to find the Sword of Neshyenyer, orders directly from Nikolai himself. It was bullshit, in your opinion. 

He had done it to keep you safe, you knew that. He didn’t want you anywhere near the Fold, not while the Darkling still lived. Tolya was more than capable of keeping you safe, so you were sent with him. It wasn’t like Nikolai thought that you couldn’t handle yourself. That wasn’t it at all. He just preferred being the one to keep you safe, and he couldn’t do that while the Darkling was still in play. You had whined, but relented, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already under.

After your own obstacles, you finally made it back to Keramzin with the sword in your possession. To your horror, Nikolai’s ship was found wrecked in the valley. 

Tolya ordered everyone to split up, and you followed him. You fought alongside him, letting him take the lead. When you caught onto Nikolai’s trail, a Heartrender found their way up the cliffside where you and Tolya were hiding. 

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, holding you still by your shoulders. “I have to slow our heartbeats so she doesn’t know we’re coming.”

You nodded, sitting as still as you could beside him. It felt like you were suffocating, your body going rigid. Tolya held you like that until he was sure the other Heartrender was gone, and then he released you. You gasped for breath, slumping against the boulder behind you. Tolya stood, bracing your arm with his to hoist you up.

“Your heart is pounding. Are you that scared for him?” He asked, continuing on Nikolai’s trail. 

You quickly followed behind, trying not to think about the worst possibilities. He could be hurt, or–Saint’s forbid–dead. The thought nearly made your knees buckle. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the idea. But there was no point in pretending. Tolya knew your heart. He knew who it was beating for.

“I always am.”

—

Minutes later, you had followed Tolya all the way through the first crowd of Grisha that were blocking Nikolai and his crew into a corner. Together, you took them down one by one, following their trail all the way to where Nikolai was hiding. The Crows came in from the opposite direction, taking out what was left of the band of Grisha still fighting. 

Tamar buried her axe in the last Squallor’s head, and Nikolai stood to shoot the last remaining Tidemaker. 

The one you would come to hold responsible for the death of Dominik Vertov, Nikolai’s oldest friend. Tolya boosted you over the wooden wall just in time to see her body hit the ground. 

“Nikolai,” you gasped, taking in his appearance. 

He was caked in dirt, his clothes torn. He had cut himself somewhere along his temple and cheek, with blood and grime matted into his hair. His pants were ripped, revealing a nasty gash in his lower thigh. He appeared to be limping as he turned at the sound of your voice, his shoulders slumping in relief. 

You closed the gap between you both, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured, breathing you in. “Saints, I thought that was it for me for a second there. Sending you with Tolya was smart thinking on my part.”

You squeezed him tighter, grumbling as you scolded him. “I’m never listening to you again! From now on, you’re staying by my side. I don’t care what your orders are. Look at you, you’re hurt!”

“Barely a scratch, darling,” he said reassuringly as he finally pulled away, taking your hand in his. “You can yell at me later, alright? The blade, did you find it?”

Kaz picked up his cane, nodding. “Inej has it. They’ve gone to find Alina and Mal.”

“We have to do the same. If Kirigan brought the fight here, he’s gunning for her.”

Tolya patted Nikolai on the shoulder, getting his attention. “Y/N and I cleared a way into the fort. Come on!”

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to whisk Nikolai away from all the chaos and madness of the looming threat in front of you. Keeping him away from the Fold and out of harm’s way was what your brain was screaming at you to do. But you had your duty to Nikolai, and to Ravka. You had a duty to Alina, who was going to save you all. You had to put aside your own wants, and do what was right. 

Nikolai nodded, squeezing your hand. “Come on, milaya.”

Sweet girl.

You sighed, wrapping one arm around Nikolai’s waist, letting him hold on to the other to brace himself. Once you were sure he was ready, you moved in tandem. Together, you hurried behind the group into the fort. 

—

The following events couldn’t have taken more than an hour. But it felt like a lifetime, watching Nikolai’s every move in the Fold. 

Kaz had given him his cane so that your arms were free. You were able to fight then, and you fought with your life alongside your friends as you made your way through the fort. 

By the end of it, the Fold was gone. The darkness was gone, and the Darkling along with it. 

But not before the nichevo’ya got ahold of Nikolai, clawing him in the shoulder as it dragged him up a column. 

That was the worst of it. Knowing he was looking death in the eye, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The nichevo’ya were unkillable without the blade, and Inej was nowhere in sight. You had clambered to get to him, screaming and waving your hands to try and distract the monster, begging for it to let Nikolai go. 

Tamar had held you back, letting Tolya take the lead alongside Adrik and Nadia. 

“He’d kill me for letting you die for him, and you know it!” She said solemnly, her face crumbling at the sight of her King. “I promised him I would keep you safe, Y/N! Let them do this.”

You felt your knees buckling, and your throat beginning to burn as you let out desperate wails and pleas. You could barely see through your tears as you begged Tamar to let you go, trying to wrench yourself free of her hold. Nadia and Adrik continued to use their powers to try and separate the shadows, their attempts failing.

Finally—to your relief—the monster disappeared upon the Darkling’s death. 

Nikolai dropped to the floor, landing with a harsh thud. Tolya moved to catch him, and Tamar let you go, joining her brother at Nikolai’s side. 

“Kirigan must be dead!”

You scrambled to the floor, reaching for any part of Nikolai you could hold on to. He immediately chased your touch, clinging to your arms as you laid by his side. He gasped for breath, clutching his chest. 

You let out a cry of relief, cupping his jaw. Your throat was raw, your voice small. 

“Nikolai,” you said through tears. “Are you alright?”

He clutched at his shoulder, grimacing in pain. He remained stoic, trying to hide his fear for you. It was a valiant effort, but he couldn’t keep up the facade, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks as he breathed heavily. 

“I’m alright, darling,” he nodded, not sure if his words were more in an effort to reassure you or himself. Either way, not much comfort came from his words. 

He clutched your hands tightly for a moment, before allowing you, Tolya, and Tamar to help him up off the floor.

—

Outside, you rested Nikolai on top of a crate to get him off his feet. 

Inej came down with Alina to confirm the death of the Darkling, letting Nikolai know that Zoya was guarding the body. With your help, he shakily stood, thanking everyone for their help. Much to your displeasure, he asked you to take him back to his ship. He needed a minute to himself, before everyone needed to gather and discuss what to do next.

“That’s a lot of walking on that leg, Nikolai,” you said anxiously, walking cautiously behind him as he led you up the hill. “You’re so stubborn, sometimes.”

He smiled, leaning into you. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your arm around his waist as you followed Tamar and Tolya back to the ship. Aboard the ship, you eased him down onto a turned over barrel. Tolya came over to hand you a sack full of bandages and clean rags.

“Take care of him,” he smiled, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be over here if you need anything. We should head back to Alina soon, though.”

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tolya. For everything.”

—

“Are you alright?” You asked once everyone had settled, and Tamar and Tolya had given you a moment alone.

“Dominik,” Nikolai answered sadly, casting his eyes to the deck.

“That wasn’t your fault,” you firmly reassured, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him into your side. “He died for his King and country. He was brave enough to save your life. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful to him.”

Nikolai’s face crumbled, and he hid his expression into your side. “I don’t want anyone dying for me, Y/N. I don’t want to be the kind of King who has to ask his people to lay down their lives for him.”

You ran a hand up and down his back, bending down to press a kiss on the top of his head. 

“Listen to me. You’re going to be the best King that Ravka has ever seen. And that comes with making sacrifices. It’s not fair, I know. I know you don’t want it, and I wish I could take on that burden for you. But you’re all we’ve got, and I believe in you. We all do.”

Nikolai sniffled, letting his cheek rest against your stomach. You combed your fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the gash on his temple. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I know how much Dominik meant to you. But his death wasn’t for nothing, I need you to understand that. He didn’t die in vain. His bravery will be remembered, I promise you that. And so will yours, because of today. I’m so proud of you, lapushka.”

Darling.

“I’m getting blood on your shirt,” he spoke, muffled into you.

“I don’t care, love. It’s just a shirt.”

You lightly chuckled, letting him change the subject. For a man who speaks so highly of himself, Nikolai didn’t take genuine kindness and adoration well. It was a good thing his face was hidden in your shirt. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink at your words, his eyes glazed with tears. You continued running your fingers through his hair, when he finally sniffed, pulling back.

“I care,” he grinned, looking up at you. “That’s my shirt you’re wearing.”

You smiled sheepishly down at him, nodding. “Forgot about that. Well, I suppose we should get you cleaned up, then. Alright?”

Nikolai nodded, and you reached into the bag, pulling out a couple of clean cloths. You used your canteen to wet them, crouching down to deal with the gash on his leg first. You wiped as gently as you could, grimacing when he would wince. 

“I don’t think you need stitches. Best get a Healer, though. I don’t want you limping the rest of the day.”

You finished wrapping his leg, standing to grab a fresh cloth. You wet it, standing to the side of Nikolai to try and wipe the caked blood and dirt out of his hair so you could find the source of the bleeding. You sighed in frustration, gently untangling the hair matted to his temple. 

“What?” He asked quietly.

“Nothing. I just can’t figure out where you’ve cut yourself. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, darling,” he murmured. 

You nodded, continuing to wipe away the dry blood from his temple. It was a miracle he wasn’t more injured. You huffed, trying not to think about the fact that you weren’t with him when the ship went down. Trying not to think about the fact that he could have died, and you never would have seen him again. Never would have gotten to run your fingers through his hair again, or hold him in your arms. Never—

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt hands grip your hips, pulling you forward. 

You looked down to see Nikolai gazing up at you, his hands resting on your hips. He pulled you into him, slotting you between his legs. You rested your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself. 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You wouldn’t meet his gaze, clutching his shirt in your hand. “Like what?”

“Like you’re looking at a ghost.”

You clutched him harder, taking a deep breath. You finally met his eyes, and he was looking at you with determination. He tugged you further into him, holding you still. 

“I’m right here, milaya,” he said, reaching for your hands. “I’m alright.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you said shakily, squeezing his hands tight. “I was so worried, Nikolai.”

He stood on wavering legs, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You pressed your cheek into his chest, clutching him as close to you as you could. You decided to stifle the thought, dropping the conversation. 

He was here with you, right here. And he was alive. That was enough.

“I didn’t finish bandaging you,” you murmured into his chest.

Nikolai chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’ll have Genya do it. You were butchering it, anyway.”

You pulled away, playfully slapping his arm. “Was not!”

“You were,” he mused, taking your hand. “But that’s alright. I don’t keep you around because you’re a good Healer.”

You raised a brow, turning to head off the ship back in the direction of the fort. “And what do you keep me around for, moi tsar?”

Nikolai smirked, taking your hand as you guided him down. “Other things, milaya. Other things.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope this is alright :)

#nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #shadowandbone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

[thearchvillain]

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

[swanimagines]

HEARTS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: You have fallen hard for Dirtyhands himself, and Nina knows just what to do about it.

The clink of glasses and chatter of patrons fade into the background as you found yourself fixated on Kaz, sitting across the room, admiring his every move. His eyes roamed the parchment in front of him, and a part of you told you to go to him, sit across from him and… offer him your help?

Then he’d arch an eyebrow at you, asking why would he need your help. Maybe he’d call you a needless distraction or something worse. You’d just embarrass yourself. So you settled with sitting there and admiring him from afar, fantasising what could happen if he’d have feelings for you too. That stupid fantasy had been stuck in your brain for months, and you knew it would never be true. 

“I have something for you.” Nina’s voice stirred you out from your thoughts and you took in a deep breath as you shifted your eyes on her, then on the brown package in her hands.

“What’s this?” you asked, frowning as Nina handed the package to you.

She huffed. “I bought you a pair of binoculars because now you get to look at Kaz better… or you could go talk to him.”

You felt how all the blood decided to take a trip on your face and you immediately started shaking your head. “W-what? What are you talking about?”

Nina snorted, “I can hear your heart. And it’s written all over you anyway.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it and closed it one last time as your shoulders slumped. “Is it that obvious?”

Nina smirked, taking a seat beside you. “Pretty much, yeah.”

You were silent for a moment, staring at your hands. Then you sighed. “I know it’s stupid. Kaz will never reciprocate.” Nina let out an amused huff at that, and you looked up to her. “What?”

“If you’d hear Kaz’s heart when he looks at you, you’d disagree with what you just said.” She grinned, her smile just growing wider when your heart skipped a beat and you blinked at her.

She never played around with things like that so you had no doubts of whether she spoke the truth. But still, you couldn’t help but think about alternative options.

Maybe he had someone else. Someone who was often around you, and Nina had just misinterpreted the situation. Even the thought of it made you miserable.

“I know that look. He doesn’t have anyone else.” Nina interrupted your thoughts again and you raised your eyebrows at her. 

“Okay, maybe not. But like, Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the most ruthless crime boss any of us know, would have feelings for me? Nina, do you even realise how ridiculous that sounds?”

Nina shrugged. “Ridiculous of not, it’s still real. Just go to him and see what happens. He might not show it, but he’s going to be glad you joined him. Even if he tries to push you away. He just doesn’t know how to deal with feelings yet, give him time.”

You took in a deep breath, your eyes again shifting at Kaz as something still held you back.

“Oh, for Saints sake…” Nina mumbled and pushed you forwards. “Go on already.”

So you forced your legs to make you move forward, leaving Nina sit at the table, smirking at herself as she saw Kaz looking up to you, his heartbeat quickening a little as your heart was going crazy. After a few moments, you sat across from Kaz, looking at the blueprint in front of him and Nina congratulated herself for finally managing to make you take the first step.

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