A Dare For A Truth //nikolai Lantsov

a dare for a truth //nikolai lantsov

masterlist

summary: a night in Ketterdam promises Nikolai a tattoo and maybe something more with privateer! yn

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem privateer! reader

word count: 3.5k

warning(s): tw tattoo needle

a/n: so idk if i have told yall this but english is my second language and so sometimes i interpret something incorrectly. one such occasion happened a week ago (?) i was reading siege and storm and came upon nikolai beating a tattoo against his thigh (ish? i don’t remember the exact quote) and your girl thought this meant he had a tattoo :)))) i ahd a fullblown freak out with @milkbaer, probably sent her into shock as well. but turns out that’s just an idiom. but it was a fun idea so this was born.

When Nikolai entered the bar, there was no way he could have predicted where the night would have taken him. It started out like any other evenings in Ketterdam for Sturmhond - the charming, fearless privateer. He walked into his tavern and Tome - the large, scruffy bartender yelled out his name, waving him to the counter with a couple of shots ready. Beside him, the twins would be discussing something. Nikolai usually never listened in, his attention probably dedicated to chatting up a beautiful lady. But when he heard a name - that name, he stopped whatever he was doing, perking his ears up.

“I heard Albatross got that deal with Zlatan,” Tamar said. “Worth about 2 million kruge, at least.”

It had been a given that on the True Sea, all the most expensive, most dangerous gigs were theirs. Handsome, ruthless Sturmhond, his rowdy crew and their mighty Hummingbird attracted flocks of customers far and wide with astronomical bids. They were untouchable.

However, lately, there had been talk of competition. It was some newcomer called Albatross and their ship Nameless. He had paid the rumors no mind. After all, who in their right minds would want to challenge them? And if so, it’d be a delight to see them try. But the name kept coming up. Over and over. To the point where Nikolai felt they were well past being acquaintances.

Nikolai picked up his drink, eyeing his reflection in the liquor bottle on the shelf and waited for Tolya to reply.

“Shame. We could have got that,” Tolya said.

“What deal?”

“You were listening?”

Nikolai nodded, holding out his chin expectantly. Tamar took a look at Tolya, uncertainty in her eyes. She knew how competitive he was. How he wanted to be the best at everything. Maybe this was not a good moment to tell him that there was a chance he might be or possibly had already fallen in rank.

“I can handle it. Just tell me.”

Tamar sighed and began to talk of a deal. Apparently, Zlatan wanted to stick his grubby fingers into trade between Fjerda and Novyi Zem and he had entrusted Albatross with the task. After the report, Tamar watched Nikolai with a close eye, scanning for a reaction. Anger, jealousy, anything. Yet, to her disappointment, all he did was purse his lips, cross his arms and say calmly, “Really sounds like you admire this Albatross girl.”

“Admire? This girl is my bloody hero.”

Hearing that caused a small but unpleasant jab to his ego. Maybe he should find this girl and see what her deal was. And despite the initial insignificant blow to his self-esteem, he was certain that this girl was not all mighty as Tamar made her out to be.

He laughed to himself. Who would name themself after a seagull and then not even bother to think of one for their ship?

“Albatross!”

All three heads were turned when Tome the Bartender’s voice boomed across the room. Nikolai straightened his spine, craning his neck to get a better look over the sea of people. He did not expect to get his answer almost immediately.

Albatross in his mind was anything but who she actually was. He thought she’d be an ugly hag with a bad back and a grating voice. But through the doors came a rare beauty. He could tell even in the atrocious lighting and past the thick clouds of cigar smoke. The atmosphere had changed.

“Tome knows her?” Nikolai said under his breath, turning around when he thought she caught him staring.

Tamar sighed, her eyes shamelessly glued to the figure moving closer and closer to them. “Who doesn’t? You’d be lying to say you have never heard of her before.”

“Tome! A round for the crew please!” The sweetest voice called not too far from where he sat.

“The usual, Y/N?”

“You know it!”

How well did they know each other?

Nikolai could feel Tamar itching to go and introduce herself. He twirled his drink around, keeping his eyes on the small patch of water dripping from his cold glass. Just as expected, he looked up to find his Heartrender already making her way across the bar.

“What is she doing?” Nikolai said with as much composure as he could fake.

Tolya shrugged. “Making friends.”

“Friends? Now? With her?”

“You need powerful friends as much as you do powerful enemies. Didn’t you say that once?” Tolya asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Yes, I did. But I don’t get one mixed up with the other, do I?”

“Oh shush. They are coming.”

Nikolai had never felt like an embarrassed schoolboy more in his entire life, scrambling to hide his blush and play pretend. This was not a proud moment and most certainly one he would love to forget. He turned away from them, sucked in a breath, closed his eyes and called for Sturmhond the Privateer to come back this instance.

“Albatross, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet a legend,” Tolya said from beside Nikolai.

“Oh, you’re too kind. The pleasure’s all mine.”

“We are all huge fans,” Tamar added. “Especially this gentleman here, Sturmhond.”

Nikolai put on a painted smile, twisting his head to finally match gaze with her. He had to fight to keep the smile up on his lips. She was even more gorgeous up close in her formfitting tailcoat and white breeches. He extended his hand with a courteous nod. She took his hand with a grin. Maybe this was going well. He thought to himself.

And then she said, “You’re the one who thinks I’m named after a seagull!”

Too soon. He spoke too soon.

Nikolai gave Tamar a pointed look. A death stare masked by a brilliant smile. Damn Heartrenders.

“Out of everyone, I’d expect you to know that it was a metaphor.”

Lucky for Nikolai, Sturmhond was there to save his face. The privateer arched an eyebrow and wore a quick smirk on his lips. “Me? I must have become a literary genius overnight then.”

“Tamar, let’s go look at that dart board. Will you please excuse us,” Tolya gripped his sister’s sleeves, practically dragging her away by the arm.

Y/N sat down on the stool next to his, flicking her hair out of her face. “Oh, you’re quite the poet, I hear.”

Tome placed a selection of drinks in front of her, ones that he knew she did not order. “On the house.” She blew a cheeky kiss to the bartender.

“Amongst other things,” Nikolai said, watching her interactions with Tome a little too closely. To his surprise, he wanted to know more about the girl next to him. Her sweet demeanor yet commanding presence was rather refreshing. “People talk about you too.”

“Rumors,” she smiled, shaking her head and looking away from him.

“You haven’t even heard what they are.”

Her fingers hovered over the shot glasses, finally closing around a random one. She didn’t answer his question immediately. Instead, she held up her glass to a group of people in the corner. With a mere raise of her hand, the room erupted into cheers, glass clinked together and liquor splattered around. Y/N knocked back her drink, earning a chorus of applause and whistles from her crew.

She didn’t even make a face after the shot, turning to him as though she had just taken nothing more than a sip of water. “I don’t need to hear what I have already said.”

Nikolai couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips, the Prince taking over for the Privateer. “Why? Why feed the vicious rumor mill?”

She took another glass into her fingers. “I’d much rather be the one feeding it than the one being fed to it.”

That made Nikolai laugh. He nodded, raising his glass to her. The two shared a drink in silence. He knew then that he had underestimated her. She was wiser than her years and wiser than most people he knew. Maybe that was because of her time on a ship. Maybe she was just born smarter than everyone else. Was her name even Y/N?

Finally, shots down. Nikolai decided to take his chance. “Tell me something real about you.”

“Ah, you’d have to pay me for that.”

Nikolai did not hesitate to pull out a couple of kruge from his pocket. She laughed when she saw that. “I am not a wishing well. I don’t take coins.” She had her elbow against the counter, turning to face him. “How about you play my games and I tell you? A dare for a truth.”

“Oh, not just any truth, surely.”

At this point, Nikolai knew better than to make any assumptions. Especially about her. But somehow, she still managed to surprise him.

She uncrossed her legs and slowly leaned in like a lion on the prowl. He took a breath, holding it in when her lips nearly touched his ear. She smelled of sweet vanilla and spicy tobacco. “Anything you want, Sturmhond.”

Nikolai knew it was intentional. The way she drew out his name, letting each syllable linger on her tongue for a moment before moving onto the next. And then, she sat back up, yanking Nikolai back to reality with the most innocent grin.

“Lead the way.”

...

At some point in life, Nikolai supposed he should rethink his spontaneity. It was fun and exciting in the moment but it had been responsible for many unfortunate events. He had decided, though, that he was yet to reach that point. For now, he was chasing a beautiful privateer through the streets of Ketterdam towards the harbor to her ship.

“Why Nameless?” he asked when they reached the dock, the Nameless towering over the both of them at the end of the wooden walkway. He let his eyes roam over its triangle sails, the way its body curled into a half moon shape over the night sea. It was impressive, he must admit. Not exactly dated but still commanded respect from onlookers. “Because I ran out of ideas,” Y/N answered with a shrug, a few steps ahead of him.

Soon, they boarded the nearly empty deck. Most of the crew had been out for their break. There were a couple of people left either sweeping the floors or rearranging barrels. All of whom she greeted upon boarding. The slightly damp wood panels gleamed under the moonlight and creaked under their feet. “Is that true?” asked Nikolai as she took him towards the stern of the ship.

“No,” she turned to him with a mischievous grin, walking backwards for a few steps. “This way.”

Y/N pushed the doors open with her shoulders, revealing a spacious cabin. The room was just like any other captain’s cabin, lit with oil lamps and candelabras, decorated with tones of red and gold. There was a rounded desk in the middle of the room, behind it hung two thick curtains.

“May I know my dare now?” he asked.

“In due time.” She gestured towards the table, telling him to make himself at home. And then she disappeared behind the curtains, leaving Nikolai to himself.

Of course he took her up on the offer. He leaned over the table, scanning the little trinkets scattered around from golden pocket watches to gilded compasses. In the sea of warm gold tones, he caught a curious silver gleam in the corner of his eye.

A needle.

Nikolai took it between his fingers, bringing it to the light. It was missing the threading loop that a normal sewing needle would have.

“I see you’ve found your dare,” Y/N said when she reappeared, a wooden box in her hands. Nikolai looked up, quickly noticing that Y/N had forgone her coat. She was now only in a shift shirt, the front loosely tucked in her breeches, the back hanging haphazardly behind her.

“A needle?”

“No.” She walked around the table, gesturing for him to sit down. As he did so, she placed the box down and unlatched it to reveal colorful bottles of dye and ink inside. “A tattoo.”

“You want to give me a tattoo?”

She placed a hand on her hip, staring at him with an incredulous look in her eyes. “Are you scared of a little ink?”

Oh, Nikolai was not afraid. He had a tailor who could easily remove it in the blink of an eye. But Sturmhond, on the other hand, was an Otkazat’sya with a reputation with the ladies. He put on a smile. “Make it pretty. I have many people to answer to if this goes wrong.”

Y/N reached into her kit for a bottle of dye, focused on picking out the right color. “Your mother?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, still not paying him her direct attention.

“No. Yours.”

She did not laugh at his joke, merely giving him a hint of a smile. Y/N seemed to be giving the colors a lot of thought. Picking up vial after vial before putting them down again. Nikolai tried not to stare at the way her lower lip kept rolling under her teeth.

“So how will this work?” he asked, peering into the box.

“You ask a lot of questions. Do you want to do this or not, Sturmhond?”

“If you start answering my questions, yes.”

Y/N paused when she held up a bottle of jet black ink. She gave it far more time than she did any of the bottles. This was the one. Happy with the rich shade of black she had chosen, Y/N turned to him with a soft sigh. “Fair enough.” She tugged on her gloves before leaning her hip against the desk. “I’ll give you a tattoo, anything I want. In the meantime, you can ask me anything you want and I promise I will tell you the truth.”

Nikolai kicked back his legs, leaning into his seat. “You got yourself a deal.” He waved the needle around in a taunting manner.

She snatched it from his hands, holding up a finger. “But you can’t take a peek. Not before it’s done.”

He bowed his head, “Of course.”

“Now take off your coat and lift up your right sleeves.”

“There are other ways of getting me naked-”

That earned himself a swat on the back of his neck. Even though she had gloves on, it still stung. Nikolai rubbed at the spot, eyeing her hands.

“Fine, fine. No need for violence....However, if that’s what you’re into then I am perfectly capab-”

Y/N sucked in a loud breath, ounces of patience drained from her body each time he opened his mouth. Nikolai threw up both of his hands in surrender, hiding behind them when she held the needle dangerously close to his face. “You really want an amateur to tattoo your face, do you?”

“Wait, what?” He put a gap between his fingers and peered through them to look at Y/N. “You have never done this before?”

“That’s right. This is my first time.” She would have wanted to torment him a little further, have him really fear for the fate of his pretty face. But his reaction had her cracking up much earlier than she expected. “Relax. It’s not.”

He dropped his hands, heaving a silent sigh. “Didn’t you promise to tell the truth?”

“That was not a lie. That was a joke. Now take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves.”

Nikolai didn’t have any objections this time. He peeled off his coat and swung it over his chair. And then he rolled up his sleeves. Not because he had to, because he wanted to.

Y/N pretended to fiddle with a brush, running her fingertip over the bristles and watching it spring back into place. But really, she was shamelessly staring at the ginger-haired boy now that his electrifying green eyes weren’t watching her. He wasn’t perfect. It was quite easy to pick out all the little flaws on his face: the little cuts by his cheekbones, the rough bump on his nose, his personality. Yet, somehow with all of them, he still managed to appear effortlessly attractive, even endearing at times.

“Like this?” Y/N almost jumped when he spoke. He watched her with a smirk, his sleeve rolled up to his elbow.

Of course he would like that. She rolled her eyes. “All the way up.”

Y/N thanked the Saints that he didn’t make eye contact with her as he continued to reveal more of his bicep. Maybe she should have settled for the forearm. It would make her less flustered, for sure. “Like that. Perfect.”

“Alright,” he held out his hands, “I’m all yours. Go ballistic.”

Y/N laughed, dipping her brush into the ink pot. “You wouldn’t want that.” She pointed the end of her brush towards the doors, guiding his eyes away before standing in between him and the table. She took a breath, placing one hand on his arm to keep steady. He smelled faintly of cologne. The nice kind. It was not those overly intense ones the sleazy pirates liked to drench themselves in. She liked it.

Nikolai looked away when the brush tickled his skin. “You don’t want me to look because of stage fright or do you just like a surprise?”

“Neither. Had a feeling you might boss my own project around.”

“I would never!”

She gave him a pointed looked. “You would.”

He pouted. She was right.

Y/N quickly sketched the tattoo out in the silence. Her touch was so light that he could barely feel the brush moving. He had no idea what it was, not even the faintest guess. All he knew was that it was not anything huge, probably smaller than the palm of his hand. “How does it look?”

“Good. What else do you want to waste your questions on?”

“Why Nameless?”

She smiled, twisting around to replace the brush with an actual needle this time. “I wanted it to speak for itself. It didn’t need a clever name to earn people’s respect.”

“Then why Albatross? Why not something simpler?”

She placed the needle to his skin, the cool silver kissing his skin. “Because in my case, it distracts people from the fact that I am a girl, in a man’s world.”

The words hung heavy in the air. It was the most personal thing she had revealed. And it reminded Nikolai of his own doubts years ago, trying to belong in a place not meant for him, struggling to fit in.

She broke the meaningful silence to slip in a warning, “This may hurt a bit.”

Nikolai couldn’t care less about the pain. Even when the needle pricked into his skin, he was much too distracted to notice the sting. He wanted to reassure her, like he would have wanted someone to do for him. “People respect you. Your crew, your competition.”

She smiled. “Thanks. But people respect Albatross. And most of the time, after they meet me, they change their minds. I don’t care, though. I have no problem proving people wrong.”

“You proved me wrong. And I am not usually wrong.”

“Is that so? How did I manage such a feat, then?”

“You were you. I like it.”

Nikolai took the chance to look at her, really take her in. She did not object, going on with her work like normal. He supposed she looked a bit younger than him. Might be her doe eyes. Might be her cheerful smile. He wasn’t too sure.

But Tamar was right. This girl was incredible. Cheeky, witty and kind. He had expected her to be vicious and ruthless because that was the only way he knew how to survive as a privateer. Yet, she was respectful and humble to everyone from strangers like him, Tamar and Tolya to every last member of her crew. She most definitely earned the respect she had. There was no doubt about that.

Nikolai’s continued silence worried her a bit. She had gotten used to him running his mouth nonstop, probably even preferred having him chew her ear off rather than staying in this odd silence. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged his other shoulder. “Because I like to.”

Y/N removed both of her hands. “You can stop, you know. Staring at me won’t make your tattoo any prettier. It’s done anyways.”

“May I look now?”

Y/N wiped a cool, damp towel over his skin and gave a final glance at her work, a sweet smile spreading across her lips. “You may.”

Nikolai peered over his shoulder, seeing the black ink forming the outline of a beautiful fox. He looked up at her to find her removing the gloves, placing her tools back into the box.

“I didn’t want to color it in. Might make it too difficult for your Tailor to remove, your Highness.”

In all of his years as Sturmhond, no one had ever shocked him with his own identity. The disguise was immaculate. His hair, his eyes, his nose-for Saints’ sake-looked like it had been twisted and bent several times. Yet, as startled as he was, Nikolai couldn’t afford to blow his cover now by getting all worked up. So he played it cool, the only way he knew how. “I am flattered that you think I am a Prince. Tell me, is it the handsome face that gave it away?”

“No need to play pretend. I know who you are, Nikolai Lantsov,” Y/N said, leaning in like she did at the bar. But this time, her soft lips were directly on his ear, sending chills down his spine. “Lucky for you, I don’t kiss and tell. Unless-”

Nikolai laughed, placing a finger underneath her jaw, connecting their gaze. “I believe I know a couple of ways to keep your mouth busy.”

“Like what?” she whispered.

She smiled when Nikolai sat up, attaching their lips finally in a long-awaited kiss. The night may have ended for Sturmhond but it had only just begun fro Nikolai Lantsov and his mysterious privateer.

taglist: @milkbaer @5hundreddaysofsummer

add yourself to my taglist!

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Hi! I’m not sure if you are taking requests right now but if so could I request one? I’d love a Lockwood X reader where they both get up in the middle of the night because they can’t sleep and then they talk in the library until reader falls asleep 🤍

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Angsty midnight confessions, mentions of dead parents, some fluff to even out the pain.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,384

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! <3

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Keep reading

ೄྀ࿐ THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS

⎯ kaz brekker x fem!reader ; [mentions of] nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

a look into the journey of kaz losing another person he loves and how it not only affects himself, but everyone else around him.

⎯ request: @lovelyjae07

⎯ warnings: angst; ptsd.

⎯ wc: 2.1k

⎯ a/n: i tried my hardest to be really real with this one. i felt it was important to have a deep look into how ptsd can affect your life, the fear others around you experience when you undergo heightened emotions due to your struggles, and just the realness of your trauma not always being an excuse for your actions.

navigation.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed gently in thought. Nikolai glanced at her conflicted expression, but didn’t say anything.

“I have a question.”

The corner of his lip lifted, “I might have an answer.”

“Is it worth it?” Y/N turned her head to the side to look at him, one eye squeezing shut against the sun. “Pursuing something you’re unsure of?”

Nikolai nodded once, slowly, continuing to secure the knots of the rat lines. “I think it depends on the subject matter.”

“I’ve had feelings for Kaz for a long while. He did. Well, at first he did. Now … I don’t know. Now I’m starting to think he’s shutting himself out again. But I think that’s just my head making excuses for the truth of him finding something new.”

The privateer looked over his shoulder where Kaz and Inej were having a conversation on the other side of the boat.

“I could give you dating advice—” he averted his gaze back to her— “but as you can see, I’m not exactly a professional in such fields.”

“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you get lots of attention.”

“Not the best kind, usually. The other sort of attention is normally forced upon me in order to pick someone to one day provide a future king or queen. Royalty doesn’t marry for love—they marry for business.”

Y/N’s head flinched as their face contorted. “A child is business?”

“According to the monarchy, it is.”

“That’s absolutely absurd.”

“You don’t think I know? I’m not happy about it. But all that matters to me is I make sure to love the child regardless. It’s not worth the time to create such a thing and then leave it to fend for itself.”

“You sound like you have some experience with that.”

“A little,” the corners of his lips lifted, flashing the top row of his teeth. “My mother was wonderful—despite me constantly getting on her nerves. My father more regarded me as a pest and a disappointment, depending on the day, of course. He always compared me to my brother.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled. “Your brother is a twat.”

Nikolai fully grinned. “He’s of many things.”

Topics had shifted entirely, but they didn’t bother to go back to the original idea. Y/N wasn’t thinking of Kaz anymore. She was only thinking of Nikolai. And that’s exactly how he wanted it.

On the other side of the boat, Kaz was ten seconds from making a dent in the wooden wall with the head of his cane. He wouldn’t care if the king knew it was him who vandalized his property. Out here, all he was on the water and with the red hair was a criminal privateer. And he was also getting in the way of something Kaz so desperately wanted.

“What’s on your mind now, Kaz?” Inej inquired.

His eyes averted to her, then dropped to the floor. He faced the water, hand gripping his cane so hard his knuckles were stark white under the gloves.

“Nothing of your concern,” he replied.

Every time Y/N saw Kaz on the boat, whether he was alone or alongside Inej, her insides twisted and tugged. She had tried so hard for him, being this person she didn’t even know she was capable of being, but it wasn’t enough. Kaz was unreachable, she concluded. No buoyancy or compassion was enough to get past that wall he built around himself. So, she stopped trying. She wasn’t going to waste her time on something that wasn’t for her. If Kaz could move on, she could too. Luckily, it wasn’t as hard as she might have thought. She realized she’d moved on a long time ago, it was just time that would expose such a reality to her consciousness.

Kaz’s eyes would flick to Y/N’s every time she was in sight, but hers never gazed back. Slowly, she became someone he didn’t know. She was reserved and difficult to get a grip on; the same her he met all those months ago when she first walked around the Crow Club. He remembered watching her play cards against the other customers, winning against regulars of many years. He remembered her catching his eye and both of them refusing to look away. She challenged him, just as she challenged everyone else, and for once, he wasn’t bothered by it. Her strength interested him and it became just one of the many times he watched her for many months. And those times she held his gaze lessened, in the end. Before the Crows got on the boat, he noticed her acting differently. She was more distant and her expression was of constant stress. Eventually, she didn’t look at him unless necessary and when she did, that fire had burnt out. He didn’t know how or why it may have happened, all he knew was that almost immediately after they got aboard the ship, and she was introduced to the disguised king, that fire grew for him.

Nikolai could give Y/N what she wanted, what she needed. He could be everything and more. Kaz, once again, was incapable of providing for someone he loved and cared for. He had accepted that regarding most things, but he couldn’t grasp it when it came to Y/N. He needed to have her. He couldn’t have her.

It wasn’t just Kaz who noticed, everyone else did, as well. They watched Y/N turn her wicked grin from him to the fox-faced man.

“His nose looks like it’s been hit many times,” Matthias muttered.

Nina back-handed his bicep. “Don’t be rude.”

“He’s right,” Wylan agreed. “I mean, as much as I want Y/N to be happy … this is a little off.”

“She can be with whoever she likes,” said Nina. “I think we all know Kaz is difficult.”

“He loves her,” Inej added. “He has for a long time. But this is what happens. He knew this would happen.”

Jesper blew out a breath, eyebrows furrowing. “These next few weeks are going to be painful.”

“Everybody make sure Kaz doesn’t murder him,” Nina instructed. “We don’t need to deal with the aftermath of a famous privateer’s sudden disappearance.”

A month or so later, Y/N was in a familiar situation. She wanted to share her joy with her friends, but Kaz was cooped up in his office. This was always the way. She could never get him out and no matter how big the event she tried to share with him, he seemed as uninterested as ever, to shoo her away as quickly as possible so he could be undisturbed once again. Catching all her friends except for Kaz in the kitchen made her wonder if he ever even cared or if the feelings she got from Kaz was her overthinking. Either way, she felt like an idiot for wasting her time.

“You look happy,” commented Jesper, causing everyone to look at her bright smile. “More than usual, of course.”

Y/N was about to jump from her skin, her feet couldn’t keep themselves planted to the ground for more than a second.

“Sturmhond asked me to be his queen,” she said, smile becoming impossibly large. “And I said yes.”

Everyone gave each other a sort of look, but inevitably congratulated her.

Due to Y/N’s excitement, she hadn’t recognized their expressions, nor remembered the second news she had to break. None of them knew he wasn’t “Sturmhond.” None of them knew she was going to become the queen of Ravka. None of them knew they were about to lose their best friend, so none of them told Kaz.

In the end, Kaz was glad they didn’t know.

He mumbled a “Come in” and the person closed the door behind them as they entered. Kaz looked up at Y/N, stood on the other side of his desk. It was the first time she looked at him in weeks and he couldn’t tell if he hated it.

“I’ve come to let you know I’m quitting.”

Kaz’s heart might have stopped for a moment, or maybe he had stopped breathing.

“Nikolai and I are engaged. I’m departing for Ravka tonight.”

He had been slapped, he thought. He wished she’d slapped him.

Her brow raised. “You’re not going to say anything?”

Kaz shrugged. “What should I say? Congratulations. I’m sure the others will miss you.”

Y/N wanted to slap him. She wanted to slap him so hard his face would bruise in the shape of her ring. She wanted to slap him so hard a tooth would fall out. Instead, she tensed her jaw and sucked her teeth.

“Goodbye, Dirtyhands.” She slammed the door on her way out.

Kaz’s eyes locked on the wall in front of him. He refused to blink. If he blinked, he’d give in to the burning sensation in his nose and behind his eyes. If he breathed, he’d give in to the aching of his lungs and the wrenching of his gut.

When the aching turned to a burn, Kaz couldn’t stifle it anymore. He whipped a pencil holder across the room. He hit the side of his fist against the desk, breaking two of his fingers. Kaz let out such a loud scream of aggravation that everyone on the block could have heard it, including Y/N. But he didn’t care.

Kaz had let himself remain closed off. He had told himself he would fight for her, when he saw her smiling at Sturmhond, but he didn’t fight. He didn’t work on his fears. He didn’t work on his trust issues. He didn’t do shit and he allowed it. He was too cowardly to let himself face reality and he was paying the price for it. It was the way he was, he knew that, but he could have prevented the person he cared for most in life from walking away, leaving him a crying and infuriated mess in the space that started the problems between them; it started with his office and his struggle with empathy, and it ended with his office and his struggle with empathy.

For the first time, all of the Crows were scared of Kaz. The tension was as thick as fog when he was around. Even when he wasn’t, they’d listen for every creak and every voice and learned who it was in the house. They learned how to avoid him unless they had to do a heist. He was more violent during interrogations and punishments. They were in fear for months due to his extreme emotions. Everyone was an inconvenience and everyone was a waste of space. Everyone wasn’t Y/N.

A letter in the mail only seemed to make Kaz worse, if that was possible, but the others finally had their answer. He was so overwhelmed by the letter in his hands that he exposed his emotions to everyone. At the kitchen counter, he shattered a mug on the ground and slammed the paper onto the table with tears visibly welling in his eyes, leaving the others in a shared, uncomfortable silence. King Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka and his betrothed, Y/N Y/L/N, had invited them all to the wedding in a month.

Jesper ran a hand over his face and the rest of them just looked at each other. There were no words or expressions to explain any of their thoughts.

At the wedding, Y/N was beyond blissful to see her friends. After the ceremony, she held them and squeezed them impossibly tight. They were delighted to meet the real face behind the privateer, all except for one. Kaz stood behind them all, looking around at the guests with visible judgement. When his friends walked away with Nikolai to speak more in private, he finally acknowledged Y/N.

She was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her. She looked better than she ever had, he realized. She was glowing and her eyes were alight. He’d never seen her more alive. He wanted to compliment her, maybe even congratulate her, but other words escaped his mouth.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said. “Loving a man like him.”

Y/N’s lips pursed and her eyes turned hard. She looked like his worst fear: her back in the Crow Club when they first connected gazes. “It hurt me loving a man like you when you only loved your precious Inej,” her voice wavered from pent up rage. She’d never gotten to say the words to anyone but Nikolai, and it was like a weight had lifted from her chest when she saw his face fall, saw his mask fall. “Can’t I love someone who actually loves me back? Who actually cares?”

Even if she had stuck around to hear his reply, all she would have heard was silence. It didn’t matter that he found out the truth to her actions and what her words meant; she had walked away for a third time, and, once again, he let her.

SHADOW AND BONE, S2 OFFICIAL POSTER 1 month til SHADOW AND BONE Season 2 1 day till SHADOW AND BONE Season 2 trailer

QUEEN CHARLOTTE: A BRIDGERTON STORY | Official Teaser | NETFLIX

— 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

the lowdown — the one where neteyam is shackled by appearances, but you couldn’t care less. 

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 2.2k

the tags & warnings — language ,, misunderstandings (i love this trope and this is a hill i’ll die on i’m SORRY) ,, neteyam’s friends can be shitty, but mean well ,, reader just wants to love up on her boy :(

the notes — based off of this request! this is another addition to my neteyam content, but ik some of you guys are itching for some other characters, so i'm probably gonna steer in another direction & write for kiri & tsireya so if that interests you, stay tuned! <3

(not proofread well lmao)

masterlist

Neteyam is many things; a kind spirit, a fierce warrior, a loving brother, a diligent son. But Neteyam is also new to love. Not quite new to being in love, but learning the act of loving you. 

He’d found so many ways to express his heart’s desire; written notes on scraps, gentle smiles, searing eyes. It was one thing in particular, though, that made his mouth dry, made his brain nearly short circuit, and it was your need to be in his space. 

Even after many days that bleed into weeks and meld into months, you make his cheeks warm with every lingering pass of your fingertips, make his stomach knot with every fluttering kiss to his skin. 

It’d been a pleasant surprise at first, but now it was a need, an absolute necessity to have you fused to him like a second skin. Your touch was a tacit word and he was learning to speak your language. 

The two of you together was normalcy and the clan members were more than delighted to know that the olo’eyktan’s son was lucky in love. But there were teasing whispers, lilting voices in the background that made something uncomfortable pinch the back of his brain. 

His skin would light up with equal parts want and embarrassment when you’d hang loosely around him during evening meals and the villagers his age would giggle and murmur behind their palms about the two of you. Didn’t help that you were an oblivious thing, or maybe you didn’t care, when you’d hold his hand in your own, occasionally bringing his fingertips to your lips during casual conversation. 

And he didn’t mind loving you endlessly when you were just two souls enjoying each other, but he can’t help but tense when his eyes wander and he sees watchful gazes. 

“Mighty warrior is a needy one, huh?” 

His friends, comrades since childhood, surround him on a sunny afternoon. Neteyam pauses his actions, arrow in the midst of a sharpening. 

His spine goes rigid and his eyes narrow. 

“What are you on about?” he asks, jaw locking. 

“Even in the moments you aren’t with her, you’re thinking about her,” his friend Marin says with a shiteating grin. 

“Don’t even,” Neteyam warns, eyes rolling as he continues with sharpening his arrows. 

“Oh, come on,” another one of his friends guffaws, twining a new bow string. “You haven’t said a word since we sat down.” 

And he wishes he could form a solid argument, but you are on his mind, all-consuming as always. Can’t help it when he’s pined after you for years and only recently found the courage to act on his heart. 

“Maybe I just don’t want to engage with you assholes,” Neteyam bites, fist tightening around his dagger. 

“Yeah, because if you open your mouth, all you’ll be able to talk about is my girl this and my girl that,” Marin teases. “Who knew future olo’eyktan was so clingy.” 

“Yeah, like it’s me who’s clingy,” he grunts, resuming the task at hand with much more fervor. 

“Is it not?” Marin challenges. “Oh, ________, my love, look at these flowers I picked for you.” 

The blood is rushing to his ears as his friends howl with laughter. 

“Syulang, I wrote you twelve pages declaring my love even though we’ve seen each other thrice since last eclipse.” The taunting makes him seethe, makes the feeling of discomfort surface all over again and the words are spilling before he can plug the dam. 

“Of course it’s not me,” Neteyam scoffs. “I keep my composure, but it’s her that insists on constantly reminding the village that we’re together. If I had it my way, nothing would have changed from when we were friends.”

It’s a lie and he knows it, his friends know it. But you, you who staggers outside of the training circle at the sound of multiple voices don’t know it. 

It’s like a swift strike to the gut, one that squashes every butterfly that tickled the lining of your stomach on your way to fetch the very man who’d held your heart and crushed it all the same. 

Your satchel, heavy with fruits and snacks for after your evening swim with Neteyam, weighs heavy across your front as you debate whether or not you should be listening to a conversation that is obviously not meant for your ear. But it’s like you’re rooted to the soil beneath you. 

“Yeah, okay,” Marin chuffs, obviously not convinced. “If you’re so bothered by your dynamic now, there isn’t any reason why you wouldn’t say anything. She’s your second skin and you love it.” 

He does, he thinks to himself. 

Of course he doesn’t, you realize, horrified, the thousand and one times your hands would find his body and he’d tense or shy away replaying like a horror reel in your brain. 

“I potentially hold the future of this clan in my hands,” Neteyam says. “It is my duty to endure all things whether or not I enjoy it.”

It’s like you’re doused with water so cold at the violent shiver that shakes your spine. 

Just another thing to endure, you mull over in your brain as the barge of emotions brims dangerously near the surface. 

You break from the edge of the clearing and you’re off. 

Something is off. 

And Neteyam is ashamed to admit that it takes him obnoxiously long to notice. Maybe it’s because he’s caught up in his duties, or maybe for once in his life, he isn’t worrying about meddlesome gazing, but the shift is imperceptible. 

You’re still you, so aching beautiful and devastatingly radiant, but something is different. He doesn’t pinpoint it until he’s bidding you a farewell, leaning into your space to plant a kiss on your lips when you ease away to beam at him nervously instead. 

His brows furrow when you wave, breaking away from him to scurry home. 

He thinks it’s a one off, something he shouldn’t read too much into, but he can’t help it. Not when he’s so used to your touch, so used to feeling the pads of your fingers denting his skin and the scald of your lips. 

He tries again a few nights later, after finally getting you alone. He’d been busy assisting his father in planning a raid at the end of the month and you were busy trying to put as much distance between the two of you.

“You’re awfully quiet, bug,” Neteyam observes softly, chin dipping under the water as he swims closer to where you float on the surface, eyes closed. 

You only hum, pleading silently that he’ll let it pass. But when his fingers skim your navel, you’re jerking away from him, settling so that a berth of glittering blue separates the two of you. 

He forces a laugh, wading closer to you as you seemingly shrink. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks when he sees something like discomfort flitting over your expression, concern eclipsing his features as he reaches forward to grab you by your arm. 

“Nothing…” you swallow, staring at the rounded stones beaded through the necklace you made him early on in your budding relationship.

He doesn’t buy it, tilting your chin up with deft fingers. 

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, searching your face for a tell. “Talk to me.” 

“Nothing,” you breathe, peeling away from him to wade back towards the embankment. “It’s nothing.” 

He watches as you hoist yourself up from the river, heart in his throat. 

He cracks when the others seem to notice, slowly catching onto the fact that the usually doting and loving partner of the olo’eyktan’s son is surprisingly distant. It’s during an evening meal, villagers surrounding the multiple fires, when it comes to a head. 

There’s an unusual space between your bodies as you chat with Kiri and a few others and he can’t help but close the gap as something akin to desperation washes over him. His fingers brush the span of your shoulders to pull you into his chest, lips a hairsbreadth from your temple before your palm snakes between your bodies and plants on his chest to nudge him away. 

He bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as Marin and his other friends share knowing glances. 

While he boils silently, you ache to tell him that you don’t mean it, that there’s nothing more you’d want than to spend every waking moment in his arms, but that day in the clearing is a humiliating reminder that Neteyam is shackled to his honor and if it means making you happy despite his discomfort, he’d endure it all. 

You hate it, hate that he’d let you feel like things were alright leading up to this moment, that he’d suffer at the expense of mocking and badgering from his friends. Makes you feel embarrassed, sorry, that you’d read the two of you all wrong. 

You feel his fingers inching towards yours, pinkie overlapping with yours. Your hands involuntarily close into fists and that’s all it takes for Neteyam to shoot up from his perch on the log and take you by the elbow. 

There’s a hush as his friends and yours watch the two of you part ways with the group, the nearly feral look in their leader’s son suggestively mistaken. 

“Why won’t you touch me?” Neteyam asks fiercely, once enough distance lies between the two of you and the rest of the clan. 

His words make your cheeks warm, but he looks troubled, hurt. 

“I-” 

“Did I do something to disgust you? Did I…” 

His words melt into the background as you watch him with teary eyes. 

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Teyam,” you whisper. “You can tell me the truth. I’m a big girl.” 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frustrated. “You’re the one hiding something. These past few weeks I’ve been trying to be with you, trying to love you and you keep pushing me away.” 

A twinge of annoyance erupts in the pit of your belly as you frown. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” you murmur hoarsely. 

“I’m so lost right now, ________,” he admits desperately. “We were fine, everything was great, and suddenly I feel like I’m losing you. Did I do something? Are you–” 

“Just be honest with me!” you cry out. “Why do you have to put on this front all the time? It’s just me, Neteyam! If I overwhelm you, if I embarrass you, just say it! It hurts worse when you act like it’s nothing.” 

And Christ, his friends were right. He is needy. Because you’re not a want but a lifeline. A dire necessity that he feels the need to cling to in this moment. This feels a lot like you two are splintering, and he’s about to open his mouth to ask what would compel you to say such a thing, but then it clicks. 

The final piece of the puzzle that he’d been agonizing over falls into place and his eyes are widening. 

“No,” he says vehemently. “That wasn’t–” 

“Is it not?” you cut him off as you dash the threatening tears away. 

“God, no,” he breathes. “I was– They were…”

You watch him with wet lashes and his heart aches as he takes the leap and pulls you into his chest with a shuddering breath. 

“I’m so stupid.” His chest rumbles as your ear presses to his heart, arms winding tightly around your figure to buoy you to place. “Fuck.” 

You hiccup and his hand cradles your head, peppering kisses against your hair as he sways your bodies like it’ll disorient the miscommunication and send it spiraling away. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “I didn’t mean to be embarrassing. I–” 

“No, no, bug,” he swallows, hugging you so tight, you struggle to suck a breath into your lungs. “You’re not, I promise. I could never be embarrassed by you.” 

You shudder so hard his grip loosens, parting with you to cup your flushed cheeks in his hands. 

“They were ripping me a new one,” he says shakily. “Told me I was needy, clingy, and I was embarrassed because they’re right.” 

Your throat bobs and Neteyam’s thumb brushes over the apple of your cheeks. 

“You make me so weak, you don’t even understand,” he laughs humorlessly, body wracked with nerves, with want, with need. “I said it to save face because I never know what to do with myself around you.”

“You—”

“And I know it was wrong, talking out of my ass to get them to shut the fuck up,” his language is a crass reminder that he’s a former marine’s son, “but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being yours.” 

Yours. 

It’s a sound declaration, one that makes you crumple like a baby because you’ve missed your person, and Neteyam hugs you close again. 

“I’m sorry I’m so clueless sometimes, bug,” he whispers, cheek nuzzling the top of your head. “Love you more than anything, I mean it.”

You hiccup again. 

“Love you, too, stupid” you mumble, arms wrapping around the narrow of his waist. 

It’s your first meaningful touch in weeks and Neteyam melts under the heat of your body, under the heat of your warm hands. 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu