Cold husband Riki x shy reader
Sypnosis: What starts as a cold, arranged marriage slowly turns into a cozy, deeply protective love story as Riki shields you from your past and keeps you by his side.
Warnings: a tiny bit of violence, fluffffff
now playing🎧- linger - the cranberries
📍a/n: I’m reallly sorry the request msg for this fic is gone idk why😭😭 tha k you for whoever requested this, this is the part two of the cold husband Riki fic I hope you’ll enjoyyyyy
You can read previous part here
The winter chill that had once defined the Nishimura estate had entirely melted away, replaced by the soft pink petals of the cherry blossom trees blooming in the courtyard. But the physical seasons weren't the only thing that had changed; the atmosphere inside the sprawling home was entirely unrecognizable from the day you first arrived.
"Commander, you're going to be late for the morning briefing if you don't let her go," Yurie teased softly, standing at the edge of the sliding door with a tray of morning tea.
Riki didn't even look up. He merely tightened his arms around your waist, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck as you both sat on the veranda. You were supposed to be helping him tie his formal military sash, but the moment you had stepped close enough, he had pulled you right into his lap.
"Let them wait," Riki mumbled against your skin, his voice thick with morning sleepiness. "The capital isn't going to collapse if I'm ten minutes late."
"Riki, please," you laughed, your cheeks dusting with a light pink that matched the blossoms outside. You gently patted his broad shoulders. "Yurie is watching. And you're the Commander—you have to set a good example."
With a dramatic sigh that completely contradicted his terrifying public reputation, Riki finally loosened his grip. He looked up at you, his sharp, fox-like eyes softening into something incredibly tender. He caught your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm, then to your wrist, before finally leaning up to steal a soft, slow kiss from your lips.
"Fine," he murmured, a lazy, captivated smile brushing against your lips. "But you're walking me to the gates."
As the weeks passed, your confidence continued to grow under Riki’s unconditional care. You were no longer the frightened girl hiding in the shadows; you were the respected Lady of the Nishimura house. You spent your days managing the estate, learning embroidery, and occasionally visiting the local town market to pick out fresh ingredients for dinner—something Riki always insisted on, as he claimed your cooking was the only thing he looked forward to during long days at the headquarters.
However, your past had a cruel way of trying to claw its way back.
It happened in the blink of an eye. You had stepped away from the bustling main path of the market to look at a display of fine embroidery threads in a quieter, narrower alleyway. The shadows of the tall buildings blocked out the warm afternoon sun, making the air feel suddenly chilly.
Before you could even pick up a spool, a harsh, violent grip clamped onto your wrist.
"Did you really think a few fancy silk clothes would make you one of us?"
You were violently yanked backward, your shopping basket slipping from your fingers and spilling across the cobblestones. You gasped, your back hitting the cold stone wall of the alley. Before you could even cry out for help, a hand flew up, and your half-sister’s fingers dug ruthlessly into your jawline, forcing your face upward.
Her fingernails bit into your skin, her face twisted in a mask of pure, unadulterated malice—exactly like the days she used to lock you in the dark storehouse at home.
"Look at you, putting on airs," she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper as she leaned in so close you could smell her expensive perfume. She squeezed your jaw harder, tilting your head at an unnatural, painful angle. "You’re a talentless, worthless parasite. You think Commander Nishimura actually looks at you and sees a wife? You’re a placeholder. A charity case."
"Stop..." you choked out, your hands instantly flying up to try and pry her gripping fingers off your face, but the psychological terror of your childhood made your limbs feel heavy and weak.
"He's a military man, you pathetic little fool," she sneered, her eyes flashing with a dangerous, unstable jealousy. "He deals with weapons and strategy. The moment he realizes you have absolutely nothing to offer his clan, he will discard you. And when he throws you out on the street, I’ll make sure you have nowhere left to beg. You belong in the dirt. Don't you ever forget your place."
She gave your face a cruel, degrading shove backward, making your head crack against the stone wall.
The voice didn't just cut through the alleyway; it seemed to drop the temperature of the entire district to absolute zero.
Your sister froze, the wicked smirk instantly dying on her lips.
Nishimura Riki stepped into the narrow alley. He had just finished his mid-day patrol, flanked by his elite guards, but the sight before him turned the young commander into something entirely feral. His dark military coat billowed behind him, his gloved hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His sharp, fox-like eyes weren't just angry—they were glowing with a terrifying, murderous intent.
Before your sister could even process his presence, Riki closed the distance in a single, terrifyingly swift stride.
He didn't even use his weapon. With a blindingly fast movement, Riki grabbed your sister’s wrist—the very one she had used to strike you—and twisted it backward with a sickening force.
A sharp, agonizing shriek tore from your sister's throat as she was forcefully ripped away from you, buckling to her knees on the dirty cobblestones. Riki stood over her like an executioner, his boot stepping down inches from her trembling hands, his gaze looking down at her as if she were a piece of filth stuck to his sole.
"If you ever put your hands on my wife again," Riki said, his voice dropping into a dangerously low, chilling register that made the guards behind him straighten up in sheer terror, "I will personally ensure that the hand you used to touch her is severed from your body. Do you think your family's meager status will protect you from the Imperial Army? From me?"
"C-Commander—!" she sobbed, clutching her bruised wrist, her face completely pale as she looked up at the legendary monster of the capital.
"Get out of my sight before I lose my patience," Riki growled.
Your sister scrambled backward in the dirt, entirely humiliated, before turning and fleeing down the alleyway like a frightened animal.
The moment she was gone, the terrifying, suffocating aura surrounding Riki vanished into thin air. He spun around, his expression shifting into one of pure, frantic panic.
"Hey," he breathed, his voice trembling as he stepped up to you. His large, gloved hands came up, hovering over your face, terrified to hurt you. He carefully tilted your chin up, his eyes widening as he saw the red, angry scratch marks on your jawline where her nails had dug in. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't faster."
The lingering adrenaline and the echoes of your past finally caught up to you, and a quiet, shaky sob escaped your lips.
Riki didn't care that they were in a public alleyway. He immediately pulled you forward, wrapping his strong arms entirely around your frame and burying his face into your neck. He held you so tightly it took your breath away, his chest heaving as he absorbed your tremors.
"You're safe," he whispered fiercely into your hair, his grip tightening as if he were trying to weld you to his body. "I've got you. I'm never letting them near you again. You are the Lady of the Nishimura house. You are mine. Let's go home."
The ride back to the estate in the private carriage was quiet, but it wasn't the heavy, anxious silence of the past.
Riki sat right next to you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. He was still wound tight from the encounter, his jaw clenched, his fingers restlessly tracing patterns on your arm.
"I should have had them barred from the capital," he muttered into the quiet of the carriage, his voice laced with a deep, lingering regret. "I'm sorry. I promised I would protect you from them, and I let them speak to you like that."
You smiled softly, leaning your head against his sturdy shoulder. You reached up, gently placing your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.
"Riki, look at me," you said softly.
He turned his head, his sharp eyes filled with an intense, fierce possessiveness that always made your heart flutter.
"You did protect me," you murmured, your thumb gently caressing his cheekbone. "The moment you showed up, I wasn't afraid at all. Because I knew you were there. You are my safety, Riki. They can't hurt me anymore, because I belong to you."
Riki’s breath hitched. The hardened, terrifying military commander completely melted at your words. His eyes darkened with an overwhelming wave of affection, and before you could say another word, he captured your lips.
The kiss was fierce, deep, and deeply possessive—a silent vow written in the heat of his mouth against yours. He pulled you onto his lap in the cramped carriage, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if anchoring himself to you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, completely losing yourself in the intoxicating warmth of his touch, mapping the rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.
That evening, the moon hung high and full over the estate, casting a silver glow over your shared bedroom.
After a long, warm bath, you were sitting in front of the vanity, gently brushing out your hair. Through the reflection of the mirror, you saw the sliding door open. Riki stepped in, wearing only a loose, white sleeping yukata, his dark hair damp and messy.
He walked up behind you, taking the brush from your hand without a word. You smiled, tilting your head back against his chest as he began to gently brush through your locks with practiced, incredibly tender movements.
"Yurie told me something today," Riki whispered, his voice low and rumbly in the quiet room.
Riki paused, setting the brush down. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around your neck from behind, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. "She said the townspeople are already calling you the 'Miracle of the Nishimura Clan.'"
You blinked, surprised. "A miracle? Why?"
Riki chuckled, a rare, beautiful sound that vibrated right through your back. He shifted, lifting you gently from the stool and carrying you over to the soft futon, laying you down before hovering over you. His dark eyes caught the moonlight, burning with a love so profound it stole your breath away.
"Because," Riki whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally to the corner of your lips. "They all see how the cold, heartless commander smiles now. They see how I look at you. You tamed the monster, my love."
You reached up, tangling your fingers in his damp hair, pulling him down until there was no space left between you.
"You were never a monster to me, Riki," you whispered against his lips just before he kissed you again, pulling the heavy silk blankets over both of your shoulders. "You're just my husband."
And under the quiet watch of the spring moon, wrapped in the absolute safety of his arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, your happy marriage was entirely unbreakable.
Taglist🍎: @kristynaaah @enhapagluuuuu @daydreamer231 @babyt0matoes @nikidikiy
