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darklinaforever · 1 year

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Ideas for my fanfiction of Grisha / Shadow and Bone :

- Use an external point of view, rather than Alina's internal point of view.

- Keep Alina half Shu, and that this aspect is exploited. (Idea of discussions with Botkins, Tolya & Tamar in particular)

- That we have clear information on the countries of Shu Han and Fjerda.

- The characters are all in their twenties.

- Use good Russian language.

- Zlatan still exists for part 1. (Novokribirsk still covered by the Fold therefore)

- Assuming Baghra is a toxic teacher and mother. Draw a parallel between her and Ana Kuya for the Darkling and Alina characters and their relationship.

- Maybe keep Baghra's eyes gouged out ? (Give me your opinion)

- That the story with Mal and Alina is a secondary element. Assuming that she is toxic, and that subsequently Alina succeeds in detaching herself from it to take her independence and be herself without anything holding her back. They can still remain friends in the end.

- Highlight Mal's grief and trauma at the death of his friends near the borders of Fjerda. (No because in the book it goes over the top)

- Keep (and improve) the Genya and Alina friendship.

- Make Darkling and Alina the main relationship of the trilogy. Highlight their Yin and Yang dynamics. Particularly supporting the fact that Alina could possibly become like the Darkling, and that the Darkling was like Alina, was a time. Show their ideologies come into explicit conflict, that there is a real moral debate. Showing Alina actually trying to find more peaceful methods than the Darkling's far more radical way of trying to help the Grisha.

- Reflection on the blow of the war.

- Explain why and how the Darkling created the Fold. (Keep it like an accident, an act born out of desperation)

- Develop the psychic connection between the Darkling and Alina. Let them have talks instead of the Darkling just appearing to follow Alina around silently.

- That Alina discovers in part the childhood and the past of the Darkling, in particular through dreams, thanks to their connection.

- Show that Alina cares about the grisha, and to stop the wars.

- That the Darkling has a "redemption" arc.

- Darklina ending together, Tsar and Tsarina of Ravka at the end.

- Darklina happy with many children (girls) in the epilogue, and are powerful rulers, tough but fair.

- That the situation of the Grisha (in the world) and the people of Ravka has changed for the better in the end.

- That the study of the Grisha at the small palace (and purely the study aspect, and no longer the military apprenticeship aspect) is revealed to have become mandatory in the epilogue.

- Give it to Alina from the agency. That she seeks / wants the amplifiers herself.

- May Alina grow politically and personally. (She understands that for the greater good, sacrifices must be made. She gains self-confidence, becomes more active and independent)

- Give Alina a corruption arc. That she develops a dark side, and a kind of greed for power in Part 2.

- Support the fact that Alina's destiny is not to destroy the Fold, because this is before a propaganda idea.

- No love ambiguity between Nikolai and Alina, just a strong friendship.

- To show Alina actually / seriously considering Nikolai's marriage proposal, in order to contribute to helping/improving the country.

- Show the duality / resemblance between the Darkling and Nikolai.

– In the end, Nikolai agrees to abdicate /refuse the crown, in favor of Alina and the Darkling, agreeing to work for them and be part of the council.

- That other characters are aware of Ravka's other overriding issues, without blaming the Darkling, and sincerely wish to address them in the future.

- May Genya never get scars.

- Keep Ivan alive. (Seriously, it promised to be so interesting)

- That Ivan and Fedyor are, as in the series, gay and in a relationship. (Because they were cute)

- Developing the idea of creating Morozova amplifiers from Merzost. (Because it's not developed at all in the trilogy, and it's a point that makes me particularly curious)

- Support the fact that Morozova's amplifiers are intended for Alina, and that the Darkling offers them to her, because he perceives her as his soul mate, and that she is therefore an integral part of the Morozova family.

- Further develop secondary characters, such as : Genya, David, Ivan, Fedyor, Zoya, Tolya and Tamar.

- Develop a little more the couple Tamar and Nadia.

- David and Genya end up happy.

- Romance Zoyalaï suggested along part 2 and 3, then confirmed at the end. See what becomes of them in the epilogue.

- Let the pageantry be doomed at the end of part 3.

- Mal remains the firebird, but with better explanations.

- Scenes between Mal and the Darkling.

- That Ulla is named in the story / that her existence is recognized, without her being included in the story itself.

- The Fold is not destroyed (or at least not immediately ?), but used as a weapon to protect Ravka ? (I'm absolutely not sure about this point. If people have any suggestions, I'm all ears !)

- Mal snaps his farm at the end, or else opens an orphanage himself ? (Give me your opinion)

- Insinuation that Mal got close (romanticly) to Ruby in the end.

A quote idea :

« He did not give up his name. You took it from him. » - Alina Starkova, to Bagrah Morozova.

The (maybe) proglogue :

The girl was not afraid of the dark.

Darkness was a refuge. Especially when she was hiding to escape Ana Kuya's admonitions.

In those moments, she chose dark corners. Behind a curtain. In the attic. A closet.

She stayed hidden until Ana Kuya forgot about her and her anger.

When night fell, the girl could escape the meanness of the other children in the orphanage.

But his nights were short and restless.

So, when she woke up, she looked at the sky through a window. She observed the stars, and especially the moon. Sometimes there was just darkness, and she would watch it too, until she fell asleep again, or not.

The girl had always been weak. She was pale and thin.

Not pretty.

That was what Ana Kuya was saying.

Her Shu eyes betrayed her origins, and she was rejected for it.

The face of the enemy.

This is what the children kept saying. She had no friends.

Until the day the boy arrived.

He was nice to her. He was defending her. And over time, they got close.

Friends.

He was like the brother she never had. The only person in this world who seemed to really care about her.

A family.

But it was not enough. She didn't know why, nothing was enough.

The girl had always felt incomplete. As if she was missing a part of herself, there, in her heart.

She felt alone.

But the boy was helping her to make her feel less alone.

He was there for her, and she was there for him.

It was their promise.

So... The day when the woman and the man dressed in Kefta arrived at the orphanage to test the children, they hid in the meadow.

The girl didn't want to know if she was Grisha. It didn't matter to her. She didn't want to lose what she had with the boy.

But Ana Kuya ends up finding them.

When it was her turn to be tested, the girl felt something stir inside her. Something that begged to come out. But the boy called out his name. Again and again, from the other side of the door.

The girl hesitated. Her heart sank.

Unconsciously or consciously, she did not know, the girl held back. She prevented this thing that was pulsing against her skin from coming out. Refusing to answer the call.

The answer then fell. She was not Grisha.

Suddenly, the girl felt her heart lighten. But not so much for her as for the boy. The girl, in truth, wasn't sure how she felt.

The girl and the boy continued to grow up together, and she was happy about it.

Time passed, and she finally forgot the strange feeling that had assailed her at the time of the test. Years went by, and she still felt incomplete.

A tiny void in her, asking to be filled.

Sometimes, despite the boy's presence, the girl felt devoured by loneliness.

By the lack.

By this inexplicable void.

In those moments, to lighten her heart, she played with the rays of the sun with her fingertips.

As if she could grab them...

But it was not enough.

So, from time to time, despite the sun that lit the meadow...

The girl locked herself in the dark.

Extracts :

N°1 :

Her bony, charcoal-covered hands stopped maneuvering on the wind-crumpled paper, her eyes moving to a specific spot straight ahead.

Towards the Shadow Fold.

This immense black mass… This scourge which some were convinced would never be overcome. This black scar which had split the country in two and deprived the kingdom of Ravka of its only coasts, transforming it into an enclave. This non-sea that frightens so many… Filled with man-eating monsters.

A place that had stolen so much life. Rendered so many children, like her once, orphans…

Orphan.

This word sounded like a wound to her.

From an early age, he had been taught to fear the Fold. Easy with the Volcras inside. The little representation she had seen of it in the books of Keramzin's library was still enough to give her nightmares. Huge creatures, with sharp wings and fangs, capable of lacerating you with their claws with a simple movement.

The Fold ate your parents.

Ana Kuya's words echoed in her head as if it were yesterday… As she discovered the Fold for the first time through one of the many maps she was drawing herself today.

The Fold is an abomination, she had heard countless times. A mistake of nature. A scar on the map…

Literally.

But since she had joined the first army and seen with her own eyes what had haunted Ravka for centuries… Fear had given way to a completely different feeling.

Fascination.

When she approached the Fold, or even just looked at it, as now, the cartographer experienced this stinging sensation of being crushed by an unknown weight.

She seemed feel a multitude of emotions.

Anger.

Sadness.

Anguish.

And especially… Despair.

A despair that seemed to her deep, unshakable and endless.

Her heart sank every time these emotions raced through her. And she didn't know why. Sometimes tears welled up in her and she had to hold herself back to keep them from running down her cheeks, wiping them away with the back of her hand.

It made no sense… Yet it was there.

She must be crazy ! But maybe she felt this because the Fold had brought many misfortunes ? Upset so much life ?

The Fold was born out of madness and caused suffering. Not the opposite. Or maybe if… ? She shook her head. Maybe she was just too emotional ?

When she looked at the Fold, his heart hurting her. Terribly hurt.

And sometimes… Sometimes it was just like she was listening to someone's laments…

Those times were the worst.

N°2 :

« So cartographers, listen to me ! » Sergeant Yure Teplov shouted from the front of the boat. « Until we get there, stay at your posts. Under no circumstances leave the Skiff during the crossing ! »

Alina silently listened to the safety instructions, her gaze fixed straight ahead in the direction of the Fold. Black tendrils seemed to glide around him, constantly twisting and snaking as if trying to ensnare anything that approached…

Alina felt a searing, deep sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as the Skiff slowly accelerated towards her.

This may have been the last time she stood in the sunlight…

Her heart was beating nervously in her chest as she tried to stabilize her breathing, swallowing her saliva. But she couldn't bring herself to look away from the twisting shadows before her…

She was so focused that she didn't notice the gust of wind that grabbed her scarf and pulled it away from her neck. Frantically, she turned to try to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers, the blue and gold piece of cloth already flying away from her, past the landing pad.

That's where she saw her.

A silhouette in the distance… A dark silhouette.

A man, she guessed. A man entirely dressed in black, whose cape fluttered in the wind, and who watched the Skiff move away.

Alina could not accurately describe what she felt at that moment.

It was as if his heart stopped beating for a moment before starting again, more alive than ever, on a different rhythm, unreal. There was a tug on his chest, like some sort of tether that was screaming at him to come closer. But she couldn't, and something inside her was itching.

She felt caught up, captivated by the sketch of this character that she would have liked to immortalize with pencil strokes.

Time seemed to slow down, that single moment stretching into a thousand more.

It was strange, invigorating and exhilarating.

And then, as suddenly as that feeling had washed over her, it disappeared as the world was entirely engulfed in darkness…

N°3 :

They entered the Fold.

And everything was dark. Dark and silent. It was almost like sailing through a cloud of smoke, except there was no heat or smell of fire. It was cold, and the rest of the world seemed to have disappeared, every sound from outside simply muffled by the shadows.

It was like being plunged into a cold, dangerous and eternal night…

The bow of the Skiff could no longer be seen, or even most of the passengers. Everyone held their breath, trying to master their fear. The darkness was never more frightening than when monsters inhabited it… Silence reigned, everyone on the lookout for the slightest flapping of wings.

As for Alina, she stood minutely aside, still in her position, forcing herself to stand on her trembling legs. It was too much. Too strong. Too stuffy. All these emotions that invaded her threatened to make her collapse.

She was mad at herself for having the stupid impulse to burn the Ravka-West maps. Pained for having condemned his colleagues to follow her, and anguished for what this long, very long crossing will or will not reserve for them. But worst of all, she was desperate. Desperate to get out of it, and to act as if nothing had happened. Desperate to be back in Ravka-East already and to resume the course of his usual schedule:

Laugh and have fun with Mal. Draw maps with Alexis. Put up with scathing remarks from Raisa and many more.

But something was wrong. It was all too striking. Violent. As if those emotions weren't fully his own. As if entering the Fold triggered them.

Did the others feel that too ? Or was she the only one ?

Worst of all, a burning feeling of loneliness invaded her, and she couldn't define it.

Loneliness…

She had never felt it while looking at the Fold, as if this feeling was the most buried of all. Buried in the heart of the misty monster, below the surface.

N°4 :

His position gave him an excellent view of the Skiff's slow approach towards the looming mass of shadows that formed the edge of the Fold. He took a heavy breath. This Skiff had every interest in returning intact. Its fabricators had spent months there, an opportunity to finally somewhat satisfy the king's wishes.

The Skiff was more than halfway out of the no sea, when a flutter caught his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts. A blue and gold scarf had apparently been caught in the strong winds of his Squallers and was now drifting straight in his direction. Judging the distraction unimportant, he looked back at the Skiff. And while the latter was only a few dozen meters from the Fold…

The world seemed to slow down.

There was something on his chest, and that thing, so sudden, wrapped tightly around his heart, constricting it for a moment before pulling it forward. The pull he felt was so strong he almost tripped. He put his hand to his chest, flabbergasted. He couldn't accurately describe what he felt at that moment.

He straightened his spine, his thoughts struggling to try to make sense of what he was feeling. He considered, then dismissed the idea that it was the work of a Heartrender. During his long life, he had been victim to their power several times, and what he felt was nothing like the work of a corporalki.

No. It was as if his heart had stopped beating for a moment before starting up again, more alive than ever, on a different rhythm, unreal ; bringing him both a feeling of fullness and lack he had never experienced before.

The tightness in his chest, like some sort of tie wrapped around his heart, tightened again. Stronger than before, to the point that something inside him itched. And this time, he realized exactly which way she seemed to be pulling him.

Towards Skiff.

There was something important on that ship. Although he didn't know what it could be, his subconscious begged, screamed for the Skiff to come back. But it was useless. The Skiff had already reached the edge of the Fold, that single moment stretching into a thousand more, and within seconds it was swallowed up by darkness…

He remained frozen on the quay, his gaze still fixed on the place where the Skiff had disappeared. A moment passed, then another, and he took a shaky breath, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

The sensation had vanished along with the ship, and he now felt strangely empty…

He didn't know exactly how long it was before he noticed the curious gazes lingering on him, and he realized that he had stayed much longer than usual. Obviously, he had lost track of time.

Regaining control of his limbs, he forced himself to turn away, his path on the platform crossing that of an abandoned scarf.

He stopped himself.

It was the one that had flown in his direction when the Skiff left. He didn't know why, but he bent down to take the garment in his hands, examining it carefully.

The sewing work was clumsy, the embroidery and the fabric very simple. Probably it belonged to a young soldier.

He delicately ran his fingers along the golden patterns before folding the scarf and putting it in one of his pockets, naturally resuming his way to his tent to finally cut himself off from the prying eyes of the members of the first army.

Conclusion :

So... I don't know if anyone is going to read, or has read all of this, but if so thank you ! And your opinions are welcome !

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marvelmusing · 2 years

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The Rest is History

A Shadow and Bone Modern AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader

Summary: After unexpectedly bumping into your old History professor, he asks you to spend the night with him to escape your roommate and her boyfriend. And who are you to turn down such an offer?

Warnings [18+]: smut, protected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), praise kink, little bit of size kink, a ridiculous amount of fluff, soft dom!Aleksander, can be read as just Aleksander x Reader but my intention is for this to be an eventual Darklina x Reader series

A/N: I didn’t mean for this to end up being so long but here we are

“Professor Morozov?”

He frowns, eyes locking with yours, and you can see the moment recognition sparks in their dark depths. He smiles brightly. Even two years after you last saw him, your stomach still flips when he smiles at you. He says your name fondly, and your cheeks warm immediately.

Of all the places to run into your old History professor, Genya’s bar - The Little Palace - wasn’t one you had ever considered.

“How are you?” You ask, in an attempt to show him you’re a functioning adult instead of a blushing schoolgirl. His smile softens as he moves to sit on the bar stool next to you.

“I’m doing well thank you. And yourself?”

Your lips part, but you don’t have time to answer as Genya cuts in.

“Aleks! I was starting to think you’d forgotten about us.” He chuckles, a warm rich sound that makes you want to stare dreamily at him waiting for the next one. Then Genya’s words register in your mind.

“Wait, you’re the Aleks everyone’s always telling me about?” You ask, and he turns back to you, only to narrow his eyes at Genya, who’s wiping a glass with a smirk.

“What have you been saying about me?” You feel your cheeks warm again, and you hurry to defend Genya.

“Oh no, nothing bad.” He raises a brow at you, his eyes almost stern, and you suppress the urge to press your thighs together as you smile innocently at him. “I promise.” He doesn’t seem too convinced, so you begin to ramble, “Just that, you’re the only one who will listen to David when he’s talking about his experiments. That you were Ivan’s best man, at his and Fedoyr’s wedding. And that everyone’s always surprised when I say we haven’t met.”

His expression softens increasingly as you continue to speak, and his smile has returned.

“But it appears we have actually met.” You add, looking down at your fingers as you play with the hem of your dress. His eyes flicker down to watch you, no doubt seeing the smooth skin of your thighs on display. He nudges your knee gently with his own. The fabric of his dress pants is soft against your skin, and you can feel the warmth of his body even with such a small point of contact.

Your eyes flicker back up to his face, and find him smiling softly at you. There’s small flecks of grey in the stubble that covers his jaw, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. His hair is still the wonderfully rich brown that you remember it as, the same as his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in his eyes.

He looks away first, glancing down at his drink.

“Is Alina here?” He asks. You frown lightly.

“Why?” The corner of his mouth quirks.

“The two of you were always inseparable, despite the fact that you were studying different courses.”

You smile softly, your mind going back to your college days. You and Alina studied History and Art History, respectively. Through first year you had grown close, and every year afterwards you lived together. Professor Morozov taught you both for the majority of your modules.

You nod, pulling your eyes away from his to look around the bar.

“Yes, she’s here somewhere. With her boyfriend.” Your words falter towards the end, as your eyes fall on Alina. Nose wrinkling with distaste, you see Mal slip his hand up her skirt and watch her giggle as she attempts to push him away. Then she kisses him.

Swallowing hard, you turn back to face Genya who sets another drink down in front of you, to which you smile gratefully at her.

“Looks like another sleepless night for me.” You remark quietly before taking a sip of your drink.

“I finish at eleven tonight.” Genya tells you. You shake your head, knowing what she’s offering.

“David’s just got back from business in London. You don’t want me sleeping on the sofa during your reunion.” You insist, and she fixes you with a determined look. Then someone calls for a bartender, and she moves away.

Your attention returns to your old professor, who tilts his head in questioning, which prompts you to explain.

“Alina and I share an apartment. With very thin walls.” There’s a pause, before he says quietly,

“Ah.”

You nod, finger curling around your drink, as you spin the glass around with a few swipes of your thumb.

“You could stay with me.” You glance over at him with a small frown. “For the night. If you wanted to, of course.”

“Professor Morozov, that’s-“

“Aleksander.” He corrects. You pause, allowing his name to linger on your lips before you speak it aloud.

“Aleksander.” He takes a sip of his drink, and you watch his throat bob, which almost derails your train of thought. “That’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t be an inconvenience like that.”

His hand settles on your thigh, and warmth floods through your body.

“Absolutely not.” He says firmly. “You could never be an inconvenience.”

You lick your lower lip, and Aleksander’s eyes fall to watch the motion carefully. Eyelids fluttering, you try your best to remember how to breathe.

“Going home with you would certainly catch Alina’s attention.” You remark with the hint of a smirk on your lips. His head tilts aside in confusion and you breathe out a small laugh. “There wasn’t a person in my class that didn’t have a crush on you at some point.” His brows lift even higher, and you smile softly at the look of surprise colouring his features. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” Your smile widens, as you continue to tease,

“You didn’t realise that in the second week everyone started dressing in short skirts and pretty dresses for your 9AM lectures?”

“Did you?”

Your smile drops, cheeks flushing with embarrassment, suddenly feeling very caught out as you look down at the surface of the bar. With one hand still on your thigh, he leans closer, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger to pull your eyes back to his.

“Did you?” He repeats softly, with no judgement in his voice - only curiosity.

“Sometimes.” You admit, as his thumb runs delicately over your cheek. He hums in acknowledgement, his thumb still ghosting lightly against your skin. His fingers loosen, so that he’s no longer holding your chin. His touch doesn’t falter though, trailing from your cheek, along your neck, to trace at your collarbone.

“Do you still have that white sundress? The one with the pink flowers?” The burning spreads from your cheeks, following the path of his fingers down your exposed skin. He remembers. You nod. “That was one of my favourites.”

Your brain short-circuits. Not only does he remember, but he has favourites. You think you might pass out. Being the centre of his attention is dizzying.

“Although,” he adds, as his hand smooths its way up your thigh to brush against the bottom of your dress. “This little number is quite the contender.”

Now you’re certain he’s trying to kill you.

“Really?” You had been intending to sound coy, but your breathlessness makes the word more doubtful than anything. He nods.

“Truly.”

“Professor?” Both you and Aleksander turn at the sound of a new voice, startling you from the private haze you had been lulled into. You’re met with Alina’s dark eyes, flickering between you and Aleksander, no doubt observing the proximity, and his hands already on you.

Aleksander smiles easily, but doesn’t move his hands away. He continues to circle his thumb over your skin while he talks.

“Hello Alina.” He inclines his head slightly in acknowledgement, before his gaze moves back to you. She clears her throat, and fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket as she looks at you,

“Me and Mal are leaving now, would you like a lift home?”

Your lips part, and you hesitate. Then you rest a hand on Aleksander’s knee.

“Thanks Lina, but Aleksander’s taking me to his place.” She looks between the two of you again, at your hand on him, his hand on you, and you see her swallow before nodding.

“Oh, okay.”

“See you tomorrow?” You venture, and she nods again.

“Yeah, see you.” You give her a smile, which quickly fades when you meet Mal’s eyes. Then they’re both disappearing into the crowd, heading towards the door.

Aleksander turns to you.

“So, I’m taking you to my place.” He repeats with an edge of teasing in his tone.

“You did offer.” You remind him.

“I did indeed.”

You walk to Aleksander’s car, hand in hand. His hands are warm, and so much bigger than yours, that a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of his hands running down the entirety of your body.

He opens the door of his car for you, and you slide into the seat easily. You frown when he stands there, the door still open, and looks down at you.

“Aleksander?”

“Pull your dress up.” Your eyes flicker out through the window, worried that someone would be walking by at this very moment.

“But-“

“No one can see us.” He assures you.

You comply, pulling the skirt of your dress up to bunch at your waist. He ducks down into the car, unstrapping your heels first. Then his hands trail up your legs. He hears your breathing catch when his knuckles brush against your hips, he looks up into your eyes before gesturing to your panties,

“May I?” You nod. “I need your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes.”

He pulls your panties down, and slots them into the pocket of his trousers. Then he helps you adjust your dress to sit back down over your body. He takes your chin in hand.

“Do you still want this?”

You nod.

“Yes, please.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and buckles your seatbelt.

“Good girl.”

He shuts the door behind him, and walks around the front of the car before climbing into the driver’s seat. The car hums to life, and it isn’t long before you’re on the road, heading to Aleksander’s house.

He leaves his hand on the console between you, his fingers open and inviting. It doesn’t take long for you to slip your hand into his. Aleksander doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but he smiles and tightens his grip on you.

The journey isn’t long, and soon Aleksander is pulling up into the garage of his house. A large brownstone in Central Os Alta that is probably double the value of your entire apartment block. You hear the door shutting automatically behind the car, and you can’t help but compare it to the dodgy alleyway where you have to park your car.

You bend to reach for your shoes, only to be stopped by Aleksander’s words.

“Ah ah, wait.” He says, turning the keys and pulling them from the ignition. He climbs out of the car, and opens your door. Hooking an arm under your knees, he pulls you out and into his arms. You giggle softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Aleksander drops his car keys into your lap, and you reach down and press the lock button. The car chirps, and he looks down at you with a small smile. He carries you through the garage, and up the steps that supposedly lead to the inside of his house.

Once the sound of his dress shoes echo against the hardwood floors, he sets you down. There’s a click of the lock turning behind you, then his hands are running over your arms. You’re in a small hallway, and you can see the both the kitchen and living room due to the open plan of the first floor. Aleksander drops a kiss on your shoulder.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

You shake your head, turning in his arms and taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. His dress shirt is soft against your fingertips and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“No thank you.” You mumble before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. He responds eagerly, accepting your kiss and tightening his hold on you. He draws you further into his embrace, as his mouth works against yours.

His hands grasp at your hips, and your fingers sink into his hair. Your other hand cups his jaw, feeling the stubble prickle against your palm. You’re barely aware that you had moved, until your back presses against the wall.

“Where do you want me?” He asks, his voice low and filled with need. “The kitchen counter? The sofa? Anywhere you want.”

You’re unable to answer, as his mouth steals whatever incoherent words were about to escape your lips. His hips are flush against yours, and you can feel how hard he is which pulls a moan from you.

“I can think of at least three places in my study. Speaking of, I have a collection of first editions that I think you’d love.” Your head drops back, and he uses the opportunity to trail his lips along the sensitive skin of your throat.

“Oh yes.” You sigh. He looks up at you grinning.

“Is that for me or the books?” You breathe out a laugh as you meet his gaze.

“Can’t it be both?” He nips lightly at your collarbone, and you whine. His hands run up your body, squeezing at your breasts. Even over your dress, he finds your nipples and rolls them smoothly between his fingers, and you arch into him.

“Where do you want me?” He repeats. You look up at him, meeting his eyes. He slows his motions, noting the shyness in your eyes.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” You ask softly. He smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course sweet girl.”

Without warning, he scoops you up into his arms once again and carries you towards the stairs. As he ascends the steps, you busy yourself with unbuttoning his shirt and kissing the bare skin that you reveal with each button. You’re aware of passing by several doors, before you enter a room, and are placed at the foot of a soft bed.

You look up at Aleksander, tugging at his collar to bring his lips back to yours. He shrugs his shirt off, before cupping your face in his hands and pulling away.

“Turn around, love.” He rasps, and you frown. “I need to undo your dress, don’t I?” There’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, and your cheeks warm yet again. Something about Aleksander seems to have you constantly flustered.

You do as you’re told, turning around to allow him to pull on the zip of your dress. He moves slowly, his lips trailing along the length of your shoulders. He tosses your dress away, and you hear it hit the floor somewhere. Then Aleksander’s lips are working their way down your spine, and you moan softly.

You turn back around to face him, settling yourself against the pillows near his headboard. Your body is blazing, but you spread your thighs to reveal how desperate you are for his touch.

You hear him inhale sharply, and a sense of satisfaction fills you at the thought of him liking what he sees. He trails a finger along the inside of your thigh, and you spread your legs wider. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest.

“Look at you.” He whispers. Then his eyes move from your glistening pussy up to your face. “Is this all for me?” You nod hurriedly, the words slipping our before you can stop them.

“All yours.” He smirks, pulling off his shoes, then his trousers and his boxers. In an instant he’s draping himself over your naked body.

“Aren’t you glad I took your panties? Silly girl would have ruined them with a mess like that.”

You can only whine and nod along to his words.

“Please, Aleksander.” He kisses the inside of your knee, and you shudder.

“Would you like my fingers, or my mouth?”

“Saints,” you breathe out in a near whisper.

This man really was trying to kill you. What a question. Your mind is filled with visions of his slender fingers curled around yours, and the soft plush of his now kiss swollen lips.

“Mouth, please Aleksander.” His finger curl around each of your thighs, holding you in place, and you moan softly when you feel his breath brush against your dripping pussy. “Please.”

He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his mouth trailing over to your hip, leaving more kisses along your waistline, before circling back to your other thigh. Everywhere but where you need him. Your head drops back further into his pillow, and you whine as you clutch the sheets beneath you.

His tongue parts your folds with one clean stripe and you shudder with a moan on your lips. You breathe out his name again as he repeats his motions, lapping against your wet pussy. Your clit throbs with need, but Aleksander pays it no mind. His stubble prickles against your skin, as he tilts his head to ensure he catches every spot that gives you pleasure.

“Does that feel good, sweet girl?” You nod, desperate for more of him.

When his tongue finally circles your hardened clit, you keen and rock your hips against his face. He responds by burying his tongue even harder into your pussy, and you reach down to grasp a fistful of his hair. His groan shakes your entire body, and you whimper as he sucks on your clit.

Soon you’re chanting a series of pleas accompanied by his name, clenching hard around nothing. Aleksander holds tight onto your hips, keeping them pressed against his face as you squirm. Your gasps and moans increase in pitch, and soon you’re toeing the edge of your first climax of the night.

“Aleksander!” You cry out, before your orgasm hits you. You moan and whimper as he continues to lap at your pussy, swallowing every drop you give him. It’s only when you whine at the sensitivity, does he press one final kiss to your clit before he pulls away.

His hands run along the length of your body, as he makes his way back to your lips. He smiles as he takes your chin in hand and guides your mouth against his. You smile back, feeling almost giddy with pleasure.

“Good?” He asks gently. You kiss him again.

“Very good.” He nods with a smile, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your hands trail down his body, over his chest, then his abs. You glance down, and see his cock standing erect.

You lick your lips, as you observe the size of him.

“Do you think you can take it?” You swallow hard, dragging your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes. Then you nod. Aleksander reaches over to his bedside, and opens the drawer. He pulls out a condom, and removes the wrapper before dragging you in for another kiss, and you rock your hips against his stomach. His hand runs down your body, squeezing your waist as he positions himself above you.

Glancing back up at your face, you give him a nod and tug his waist closer with your legs. He breathes out a small laugh, before he brushes his fingers against your entrance. You whine and pout as you look down at his cock, to which he chuckles.

“Need to stretch you open, sweet girl.” You moan quietly as he collects your slick, using it to help his finger slide into you. “Already so tight.” He pumps his finger inside you, and after a few strokes he adds another.

You gasp, arching into his touch as his fingers curl into you. He spreads his fingers apart, stretching you open and your body burns as the sound of your wetness fills the room. When he pulls his fingers from you, you whimper at the loss.

“Think you’re ready now, love?” You nod eagerly, your eyes nearly closed with bliss. A smile tugs on his lips at the sight of you, and he rolls the condom on. Your legs are spread wide, waiting for him, a pout born of neediness pressing your lips together.

But then the head of his cock brushes against your entrance.

“Oh please.” You whisper, and Aleksander obliges. You both groan as he pushes into you slowly.

“There we go.” He breathes out as you begin to take him, inch by inch. “Look at you, what a good girl.” You whimper at his praise, breaths coming in shuddering pants as he pushes deeper. “Just a little more, love.” A near sob catches in your throat, and your face scrunches with a pleasure filled pain. “I know, I know, I’ve got you.” Aleksander assures you, his hands soothing your shaking body.

A flurry of kisses land on your skin, over your neck, along your collarbone and brushing against your breasts. You clench hard around his cock, and he groans into your skin. His hands curl under your knees, and your heels dig hard into the plush mattress beneath you. Then he thrusts into you, drawing a strangled cry from your lips.

You desperately want to meet his thrusts, but your hips are jerking weakly, out of your control, and you’re only able to accept what Aleksander gives you. Fortunately, Aleksander is eager to give you every ounce of pleasure possible.

He grinds his hips against yours with every thrust, going deeper and deeper, pulling more gasps and moans from you. You dig your nails into his hips, ensuring that he doesn’t stop. Your mouth trails along the top of his chest, licking over his collarbones, and he shudders under your touch.

“Oh, Aleksander.” You gasp as he hits your sweet spot. He breathes out harshly, and picks up his pace. Your nails dig harder into his skin, and he groans as you tighten around his cock. “Please, please, please.”

You mumble your pleas against his shoulder as he presses his body closer to yours, increasing the pleasure for both of you. Your hips buck against his as you climax, and you dig your teeth into the skin of his shoulder to suppress a scream. You feel him twitch inside you, and Aleksander’s forehead drops to rest in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stay like that for a long moment, with Aleksander’s body heavy against yours, his cock going soft inside you. Your breathing soon calms, and he lifts his head up to look at you. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and you smile back at him immediately.

Pushing up onto his elbows, Aleksander removes himself from you. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and murmurs a soft,

“I’ll be right back.” Your head drops back down onto the pillow beneath you as Aleksander disappears into an adjoining room that you guess is a bathroom. It isn’t long before you hear water running.

Aleksander returns with a warm, damp cloth, which he uses to clean between your legs carefully. There’s a tiny smile on your lips, and he raises a brow at you as he discards the cloth into a laundry hamper labelled as ‘whites’.

“This isn’t how it usually goes for me.”

“Oh?”

“I liked this. I like you, Aleksander.” He lifts the covers and settles underneath, before he opens it up to allow you to slide in next to him. “That’s a little ridiculous isn’t it?”

He shakes his head.

“I like you too.” You look across at him as he lies down, his arm sliding underneath the pillows that sit behind you. There’s a fragile hope blossoming in your heart, and for a second you think he sees it in your eyes as you rest your head on the edge of the pillow, facing him.

He leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re staying for breakfast?” It’s phrased like a question, but you know you’ll have a hard time convincing him to let you leave without eating something. You nod with a small smile.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Always.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There’s a warmth in your chest, and a delightful ache between your thighs as you wake. Stretching your legs out, your foot catches against something solid, and a sound of surprise hums in your throat. When your eyes flutter open, you find Aleksander regarding you with a smile on his face.

His head leans against the headboard, and a pair of glasses sit on his nose. He looks unbelievably handsome, with the morning light on his face and his hair messy from sleep. He discards the book he was reading as you pull yourself up closer to him.

“Morning.” You mumble. Leaning back against the headboard, you rest your temple on his shoulder. He chuckles softly,

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” His question brings a smile to your face.

“Good.” Then your head lifts up suddenly, and Aleksander’s face crinkles in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I bit you.” He laughs, and you sit up to look at his shoulder. Sure enough, there’s a small red mark from where your teeth had dug into his skin. You drop your head onto his chest, hiding your face from him, as he continues to chuckle.

“It’s alright sweet girl.” He assures you.

“You’re sure?” You ask warily, lifting your head up and running your fingers carefully over the mark, before you settle on drawing nonsensical patterns over his skin as the reality of what the two of you had done hits you.

A quiet timidity settles in your chest, and you avoid his eyes. Aleksander notices immediately. His hand, warm and firm, settles over yours, keeping your palm pressed flush against his chest. You glance up at him, finding his eyes already on you.

“I’m sure.”

You offer him a small smile of appreciation, and his hand squeezes yours in gentle acknowledgement.

Aleksander had wanted to make you breakfast in bed, but you were far too eager to sit in his kitchen. The kitchen in your apartment was tiny, so sitting on a barstool at Aleksander’s kitchen island felt like a treat in itself. You told him so, and he had smiled at you and kissed your forehead before continuing to make pancakes for the two of you.

“It makes you seem real too.” You say as you remove the stalks from a pile of strawberries.

“Real?”

“Like an actual adult, with a real house. Like you have something permanent.” You shrug lightly as he turns away from the stove to look at you. “I’m still in an apartment with the same roommate I had in college.”

“You’re still young, milaya. You’ll get there.” You hum as you begin slicing the strawberries.

“It’s just hard sometimes, not being there.”

“You work at the Ravkan War Museum don’t you?” You nod. “Any opportunities for advancement there?” With a sigh, you ponder his question.

“The curator is a rich old man who tends to favour other rich old men. So, not really.” You remark dejectedly. He nods, mulling over your words.

“What about teaching?”

“I’d love to. But I don’t have any experience.”

“You could shadow someone, work as an assistant. You were the one who organised Genya’s invoices weren’t you?” You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips from the memory of Genya’s atrocious filing system.

“That was a nightmare.”

“And you did it excellently.” Your cheeks warm at his praise, which you attempt to shake off.

“I don’t even know what school I’d pick, or where would take me.”

“Well that’s simple.” You frown lightly. “My assistant Marie is about to go on maternity leave.” You freeze, realising what he’s offering you. He takes your stillness as a bad sign. “I know it wouldn’t be for long, but it would be a few months of experience and-“

“You’d really want me?” You ask as you fiddle with the sleeves of the sweatshirt you’re wearing - Aleksander’s sweatshirt. He nods.

“Why?”

“Because,” he says slowly. “I know you’re intelligent, and dedicated. I know you’ll work hard. And as I said before, I like you.”

Your lips part, but you’re unsure about what it is you’re about to say. Aleksander beats you to it.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now.” He assures you. “Just promise me you’ll think about it?” You nod.

“I will, thank you.” He smiles, turning off the stove and turning back to you with a plate full of pancakes. He serves one on a plate in front of you, layering strawberries and the other berries you had prepared over the top, along with a generous amount of syrup.

He cuts a small portion, before scooping up a forkful and hovering the utensil near your lips. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Come on milaya, eat your fruit.” A flush of warmth heats over your cheeks, and you open your mouth to accept the food. There’s a small smile on your face as you chew, and Aleksander busies himself with assembling his own pancake. Which gives you the opportunity to mull over the pet name he keeps using.

The majority of Ravkans spoke English as their first language, and learning Ravkan was only compulsory for the first few years of schooling - certainly not long enough for someone to become fluent. As an historian, you could read Ravkan and Old Ravkan better than the average person, but only someone descended from nobility would use Ravkan so casually. The Morozov family dates back over five hundred years.

“What does it mean?” You decide to ask him. He raises a brow, and you add quietly, “Milaya.”

A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he dabs at his face with a cloth napkin before providing an answer.

“It’s a term of endearment. The literal translation is sweet girl.” Your heart flutters in your chest, and you look back down at your breakfast in an attempt to escape Aleksander’s eyes.

The two of you continue to talk as you eat, filling one another in on what has happened in your lives since the last time you saw each other.

Once you’ve both finished your breakfast, Aleksander fills the sink with steaming hot water and a mountain of bubbles. A little excessive for the meagre amount of dishes you had used, but nevertheless you find a towel and begin to dry the dishes once he’s scrubbed them clean. The bubbles cling to the skin of his forearms, and you’re stunned by how comfortable you are in this moment with him.

When he’s finished washing up, he empties the sink, and curls his arms around you as you continue your drying. He uses the ends of the towel to dry his hands, and soon his fingers are running down your body.

You try your hardest not to squirm, or drop the plate in your hand. His head drops down to the crook of your neck, and he says quietly,

“I’ve been invited to a gallery opening at the Os Alta Museum of Art.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you manage to place the plate, fully dried, on the counter and discard the towel. “Would you be my plus one?”

You turn to look at him.

“When?”

“Next Saturday.” You falter. On one hand, you would love to go, and would love to spend more time with Aleksander. On the other hand, you’re worried what will happen when you get too attached, and he gets bored of you or decides that he doesn’t feel the same.

He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Think it over, and let me know.”

Your mind is reeling a little as you make your way back upstairs. Aleksander had said he needed to send a few urgent emails, but assured you that he wouldn’t be long.

“Feel free to use the shower if you wish, and borrow any clothes you like.” He had said.

Your hair isn’t too much of a mess, so you decide to skip a shower. You’re afraid of spending too much time here, in his home, because as the seconds go by you’re finding it harder to want to leave.

There’s a small buzz that distracts you from your spiralling. Glancing over towards the sound, you observe a small reading nook at the side of the door. There’s a coffee table, and two armchairs with plump cushions that face the window. Then you notice the source of the sound. Your phone and purse sit on the coffee table, and your dress is draped carefully over the back of one of the armchairs. Your shoes are tucked around the side of the chair.

There’s a tote bag bundled up in the bottom of his wardrobe, and you put your dress, shoes, and purse in it. Sitting down on the armchair, you scroll through your phone. The buzzing had been a text from Alina, and you respond to assure her that you were still alive and would be heading home within the hour.

You manage to tug on a pair of Aleksander’s sweatpants. There’s an opened box with a pair of slippers inside, clearly a present from someone who doesn’t know Aleksander’s size. They’re a little large on you, but once you’re wearing socks they mostly stay on your feet.

“You look comfortable.” He says, a teasing smile on his lips and you can’t help but roll your eyes and return his smile. You fiddle with the strap of the bag, before you mention,

“I should be going.” He shuts his laptop, setting it down on the sofa next to him, and stands.

“Give me five minutes.” He says, and walks by you. You turn around with a frown.

“What for?” He turns back to you.

“I’m taking you home.” You shake your head.

“No Aleksander it’s fine. I’ll just take the bus.” That’s a lie. You hate the bus, and would much rather walk any distance in these ridiculous slippers than take the bus. He steps closer, placing his hands gently against your arms.

“Let me take you home, please.”

You sigh quietly, before nodding.

“Five minutes.” You tease. He smirks, pressing a kiss your cheek before he’s moving upstairs.

It’s six minutes later, and you’re heading towards the garage, but you don’t complain as he opens the car door for you.

When he pulls up outside your apartment building, you can’t help but feel disappointed. The last ten hours have been a dream, and now seeing the overflowing bins on the pavement and the neglected attempt at a communal garden has you crashing back to reality.

You offer him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you for the ride. And last night.”

“May I get your number?” You look up at him, almost startled by his question, and he smiles. “How else am I going to make sure you keep your promise?” Your promise to consider his offer of a job - and a date. Cheeks warming, you unlock your phone and hand it to him.

“I’m sure you thought you could just slip away from me didn’t you?” He teases, a smirk on his lips as he types in his number. You hadn’t done it on purpose, but now you realise that if you hadn’t got his number there is no way you would have reached out to him. He glances up at you, and holds your phone out for you to take. “You can tell me no, if you want me to stop.”

There’s reassurance in his eyes, that he’s telling the truth. That if you truly don’t want his help, or his company, then he will stop all of this. The silence hangs heavy as he waits for your response.

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” You ask in a soft voice, and his eyes darken.

“Don’t tell me no.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“How was your night?” You ask Alina as you pull out two plates from the cupboard above your head. You were dressed in your own clothes, after having a shower, and trying not to think about the bundle of Aleksander’s clothing that now sits on your bed. She shrugs as she spreads butter over four slices of bread.

“It was alright. Mal fell asleep pretty quickly afterwards.” You glance over at her, hearing the disappointment in her voice. Then you remember Aleksander cleaning you up, and talking a little before you had fallen asleep. I like you, Aleksander. I like you too. “He was gone when I woke up this morning.”

There’s a small pause, and you can’t help but think about your morning with Aleksander: eating pancakes, talking about your lives, and washing the dishes together.

“But how was your night with Professor Morozov?” She adds, and you can hear the teasing in her words. You feel bad for a moment, that you’ve had such a wonderful night.

“It was good, Lina.” You admit as you pour two glasses of water for you both.

“Just good?” Your expression softens as you try and find the words to describe Aleksander.

“He’s… nice, and sweet, and caring.” The two of you are quiet for a moment, then she says in a small voice,

“You like him.”

You shake your head lightly, but don’t disagree with her even as you shrug,

“It was just a one time thing.”

“Aren’t you going to see him again?” She says, her focus fixed on the sandwiches in front of her. Now you really feel bad. Alina loves art, and visiting a gallery opening in Central Os Alta would be a dream of hers.

“He’s asked me to go with him to a galley next Saturday.”

“Saturday?” She repeats, raising a brow at you.

“Yeah.”

“Oh he really likes you.” She states confidently, and you frown. “They’re unveiling the new Morozov wing at the Os Alta Museum.”

“The Morozov wing?” You repeat faintly, and she nods,

“Ilya Morozov, he was a famous painter and inventor, kinda like Ravka’s own modern Michelangelo, his work was groundbreaking.”

“He didn’t mention that.” You say quietly.

You thought you had come to terms with it, satisfied with the idea that it was just a nice date that you didn’t have to stress about. Now you were stressed. What does this mean?

“You are going, aren’t you?” She asks, before adding with a grin, “I’d be more than happy to go in your place.” Her teasing helps to ease your worry, and you grin at her,

“Not a chance Starkova.”

She hands you a plate with a sandwich on it, and you hand her a glass of water. Satisfied with your trade, the two of you settle on the sofa to watch whatever Alina had started binging when Mal had left. Once she’s pressed play, you send a text to Aleksander:

So what’s the dress code for this gallery opening?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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