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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Home for the Holidays

summary: you come back home for the holidays and get a very warm welcome. pairing: stepbro!armin x female!reader warnings & content: stepcest, fingering, unprotected sex, dom!armin, sub!reader word Count: 2k-ish

a/n: umm, don't go around fucking your stepbros? i mean i can't stop you but sweet home alabama should play in your head if you do it. also sorry if this feels a bit rushed, i don't even have time to breathe | @mikasascabin @armins-futon

Pop!

Incessant, irritating sounds of gum popping, then smacking against your teeth, the annoying chewing that came out of your mouth, the infuriating tapping of your leg, the exasperating drumming of your fingers against the kitchen table — it's driving Armin insane. It's been driving Armin insane for years. And despite the fact that you're both adults now, you still can't get along. He's smart, quiet and a workaholic, you're a social butterfly who works smart, not hard.

"Armin, Y/N, you're not leaving this kitchen until you solve your conflict and apologise." His mom would say. It used to be your punishment when Armin and you were kids — and it's your punishment even know. You roll your eyes, gum popping all over your face and the tip of the nose. Armin snickers at the disgusted look on your face, mumbling a serves you right under his nose.

Sometimes you wondered if the tension between you and him was sexual. But... it couldn't be, could it? You were his damn stepsister, yet when you came back home for Thanksgiving, Armin was a whole different person. Fresh cut, a change of wardrobe, a better attitude — he was hot, no longer the nerd you used to tease. You study him from across the table after cleaning your face, lower lip between your teeth, head in your hands.

"You heard your mommy, Armin, apologise and let's get this over with."

"Me? You're the one who came home and ruined everything."

"Ruined what? A shitty dinner with a family who doesn't give a fuck about me? No, bro, I improved everything." You lean back in your chair and nonchalantly slam your feet on the table. "Not that you would know what it's like to be in my shoes, anyway."

"Your shoes? What about mine?" Armin slams his fists on the table. "At least no one expects anything from you."

"Wow, thanks." You get up and he realises just how nasty he sounded.

"Wait-"

"Fuck off." You dash past him with tears in your eyes. He was right, your father never expected anything from you, nor did your stepmother. Armin, on the other hand, was a genius, a straight A student and now he even received a scholarship from his university. Of course, people had high expectations from him and in a way, that made you jealous.

'Oh, Armin, we're so proud of you!'

'Armin, you did great!'

'Did you know Armin won an international maths competition?'

You shut the door to your room and crawl under your blanket. You always tried your best, but you could never compete with him. And your father, your ownfather, sometimes seemed to love Armin more than you. Minutes pass before you hear your stepmother rushing with your father to go visit some of your relatives and you hope Armin would go with them, but you're unlucky today. Once the car leaves the driveway, a soft knock makes you snap your neck up.

"Go away."

"Y/N, please, I didn't mean to say that."

"I don't care!" You throw a book at the door but Armin still won't budge.

"Open the damn door!"

"Why, so you can brag about how you're the perfect child?"

"So I can apologise, you... you bitch!"

Silence. Your ears ring with the word and Armin knows he fucked up big time. In a flash, the door is open and you're ready to kick him in the shin but for some reason, when you see his face, you stop.

"Apologise, then, and apologise for calling me a bitch, you little shit!"

"God, why do you hate me so much? You tormented me ever since you moved in with us!"

"Well, genius, has it ever occurred to you that maybe I never wanted this?"

"Of course it has! But you're always so cold and all I wanted was to talk to you. I don't even know your favourite colour and you're supposed to be my sister!" His voice is soft and sorrowful and you fold your arms across your chest.

"I don't want to be your sister."

"Then what do you want? You're always bitch but when I bring a girl over, you're suddenly overprotective."

"You do the exact same thing, dumbass! Every time! You act like a sad puppy but the moment you hear I'm going out with a guy you turn into some alpha male." You frown and grab the door handle. "This conversation is over."

"No, it's not." He puts his foot in the door and you narrow your eyes at his low voice and different demeanour.

"Yes, it is. Go do some studying for uni." You try to close the door but suddenly he's so much stronger. Has he been working out?

"You think this is all I do? Work and study? You think I'm some kind of teacher's pet who doesn't break rules?" You don't even realise when he's in your room, hands on your shoulders and his face so close to yours. "You think I'm an angel? A saint?" The words drip from his tongue with so much venom and your body softens. This is so unlike him but you can't help but be intrigued.

"Armin, please-"

"Oh, I'm Armin now? Not some shitty nickname? What’s the matter, can’t come up with a clever insult?" His thumb grazes over your cheek and you feel the hairs on your arms stand up. You like this side of Armin, and the fact that for three years you were his stepsister went down the drain. "I tried to be good, Y/N, I tried to be nice. But you don't like nice, do you?"

You shake your head with lidded eyes, drinking his touch, but a sharp pain from a slap wakes you up from your thoughts.

"Talk."

"N-no, I don't like nice!"

"It's unbelievable what a good girl you are when I press the right buttons."

You know it now, why you've always acted this way with Armin — you don't want him to see you as his stepsister, not even as his friend — you want to be his lover. In his ocean blue eyes, you can see that he wants the same thing — they are filled with lust and desire. You don't want to speak, afraid you might ruin this moment, but at the same time you have questions to ask and answers to get. Armin catches your mind drifting elsewhere and another slap across your already stinging cheek brings your full attention to him.

"I know what you like, Y/N. You fucked enough of my friends for me to know exactly what you want."

"Excuse me? You talk to your friends about how your sister fucks them?"

"Stepsister." He corrects you, his fingers tangled in your locks. "What would our parents say if they found out what a filthy slut you are?"

"I-" You want to say something, come up with a snarky remark, but the words die in your throat and your brain turns to mush. Armin leans closer, his hot breath tickling your ear.

"I bet I can fuck you better than any of them." He whispers and just then you feel your aching cunt begging to be filled with his cock.

"Armin..." You try again, but you still don't know if you want him to stop or carry on. It all feels so wrong but so right at the same time.

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." He nibbles on your earlobe, goosebumps dotting your skin.

"I don-" You choke on your words when you feel his hand slither under your shirt, fingers playing with your nipple.

"Come on, talk." Armin is now gently kissing the crook of your neck and your knees almost give in. Truthfully, no man ever made you feel so weak, so needy.

"Please, I want you!" You tried to whisper but it came out as a desperate cry.

"That's not good enough." He pinches your sensitive bud and you yelp, back hitting the door.

"I want you to f-fuck me, please, Armin! Fuck me good!"

"Much better." He presses his lips onto yours and he can taste the bubblegum you so annoyingly chewed when you let his tongue part open your mouth.

You don't have a clue when your clothes disappeared, scattered on the floor, along with your and his underwear, and frankly you don’t even care. Armin has you down on all fours on the mattress, two fingers pumping into your sweet cunt as you pathetically moan his name.

"Look at you! Such a filthy whore, all wet for your stepbro."

"Oh, God- want you inside-"

"I know, princess. Be patient." He curls his fingers in ways you didn't think were possible, but then you feel his tongue lazily dragging up and down your slit and you let yourself fall on the bed, face down, ass up. You had guys go down on you before, but the way Armin did it was incredible. He was meticulous, attentive, careful to let you know exactlywho owned your cunt. When he feels your thighs shake, he pulls away, earning a dissatisfied sigh of protest from you as you jolt back up.

"No, no. You're not coming yet." He yanks you by the hair, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to the side. Armin presses his body against yours, and you feel his throbbing cock resting on your ass as he eagerly kisses you. "You taste good, don't you?"

You nod back, unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could do was push your ass against him, yearning to be filled.

"Armin, please, I need to feel you. Please!"

"Shit, I didn't think you'd be so fucking needy. Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes, yes! I promise I'll be good from now on! Please!"

"You better keep your promise, Y/N." He growls, pushing you back on the mattress, the glistening tip of his cock positioned at your entrance. “Otherwise, I’ll have to punish you.” Inch by inch, he bottoms out and you throw your head back, spongy walls clenching around his cock. Thick and long, Armin was by far the biggest man you've been with, and you really didn't expect this. Yet when he started pounding into your cunt, you didn't regret coming home for the holidays.

"H-harder!" You beg him and you can feel his shit-eating grin burning into your back because he is the one making you feel this way, and he knows that after tonight, you'll always come crawling to him. Armin didn't waste any time, his thrusts became harsher and deeper, cock sliding in and out of you making your head fuzzy.

"You're so tight, so wet. Bet you don't get this wet for others."

"I don't! Oh, fuuuck, right there!"

Beads of sweat form on his forehead, fingers digging into your flesh as you buck your hips against his. It's been a while since he fucked you, your whimpers echoing in the bedroom, his name rolling down your tongue perfectly. You’re made for him. But all good things come to an end, and shortly you felt the need for release, thighs quaking and pleasure flushing through your entire body. Armin is close, too, but Armin also wants to humiliate you and remind you where your place is. He pulls out, cock in one hand, locks of your hair in his other.

"Promise you'll be good?"

"Promise!" You look at him with glossy eyes.

"Close your eyes." The man demands and you obey, hot strings of his seed spilling onto your face, and you lick your lips to taste him. Sinful, yet divine. Right, yet wrong. "Get yourself cleaned up."

You sit on the couch, legs on Armin's lap when your father and stepmother come back home. You can't even focus on the movie, all you can think about is your stepbrother's cock stretching you out and filling you good.

"Huh, I've never seen you two getting along this well." Your father comments. "Look at them, finally behaving like proper siblings."

"Took you long enough!" Armin's mother smiles. "What did you do?"

"We talked." Armin replies with his usual joyful voice but you know better than that. You know exactly the kind of person he is behind closed doors.

"Well, at least now we're finally a happy family." His mother pats you on the shoulder.

"Yeah," you grin, "one biiiiig, happy family."

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lostysworld · 3 years

Text

My dar(k) ling – The Darkling × reader

Part 13

Masterlist

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings: none?

Summary: Another fete, another challenge for you and Aleksander. Another person between you and the man you love.

– What the hell is that?

You step on the training ground that you usually keep during archery trainings with young grisha. But seems this time your today's training started without you. Instead of empty space on your usual place a tall young woman is standing next to the line of targets with children not far from them.

Unfortunately, Baghra is here too.

– I found a replacement for you for this day, - the old woman waves her hand and a dark-haired woman sends a suspicious glance towards your side.

– Once it's for a day, and then for a life.

Baghra only rolls her eyes on your barely audible mumbling. When she brings you closer to that woman, you realize you've seen her before during trainings.

– It's Zoya, one of the best grisha in the Second Army.

You trace her slim figure in navy blue kefta with critical glance, waiting patiently for her any reaction. Not that you are against new people, but definitely not today, the day after your latest conversation with the general.

– Zoya Nazyalensky. A Squaller, - she extends her arm for a handshake, and you notice familiar pattern on her sleeve and smirk.

– Yes, I can see that.

Nevertheless, you extend yours in response, with a blank expression.

– She will train them, - Baghra nods towards kids. – While I am dealing with you, young lady.

– What else? - you grit your teeth in annoyance. You still have some lessons with Baghra, but usually they are about one and the same.

– I'm not done abusing you. Not yet.

– I am done.

– What? - the woman raises her brow and stops, turning to you.

– I don't need your lessons anymore. Though I'm grateful for the things you taught me, Baghra.

– Did my son brainwashed you with his teary puppy eyes-

– He has nothing to do with it. I just learned everything I wanted.

You already turn to leave her on the gardens' line, but the old witch doesn't intend to let you go.

– Your ancestors could do incredible things, and you only learned how to summon two elements and think, that you can outdo those grisha, who are here from the childhood.

You freeze on one spot, slowly exhaling and inhaling to calm yourself down. With one swift movement you are standing in front of her again.

– Air I can summon is still in your lungs, so be careful with your words, Baghra.

The corner of her lips twitches, as if she's waiting for a reaction like this. When the first wave of rage passes you relax a bit and you step back.

–And I still think that you are wasting your time here.

– What should I do? - you throw a glance to her, throwing arms to the sides in grim surprise. – To destroy the Fold with my hands?

– It's time for youto decide whose side you are on, girl. Are you with Aleksander, or you are helping to destroy him from the inside.

Your blood turns cold. No wonder, Aleksander became so impulsive with a mother like that.

– As far as I know, the boy still trusts you, Y/N.

– It is the perfect reason for me not to trust you.

The woman shakes her head, seeing the girl in front of her as a lost one for her to save. Worse that her son's influence is her own stubbornness and youth.

– What was Aleksander like? - you draw her attention. – Before the Fold.

– He laughed... A lot.

– Well, he seemed to do this with me either.

– That's what I am talking about, - she comes closer to you making you flinch. – You may bring some light to his life, but you won't change him.

Nonsense. You shake your head. Every new conversation with Baghra leads both of you to her attempts to turn you against the general. Every time. Always.

– I would never ask him to change-

– But it doesn't mean you won't want him to, Y/N. He is used to ruin people who are dear to him.

You lower your gaze, observing the ground. Loud noises from the training ground reach your hearing. Seems Zoya entertains young grisha more than you.

– Well, - you take a step back to show the woman, that your conversation is over. – Seems, my life has been already ruined before I met Aleksander.

The woman scans you with a mixture of judgment and motherly adoration in her eyes.

– There will be no happiness between you, if you are so alike on this point.

– Be that as it may, - with only one sentence Baghra gets to set your mood up and down.

As soon as she nods towards your side, you turn away, heading to the palace, passing by the training ground. Your head is full of useless information and whirlwind of emotions, so you at least can be used as a bad example of a trainer now.

When you get closer to your room, where Genya should meet you to try the fete dress on, you notice a familiar figure behind you. Even not turning your head, you know who it is.

– That's what the general meant, when was talking about constant pressure.

Ivan smirks smugly to himself.

– Oh, shut up, please! - you reach the door and halt to face the intrusive heartrender behind you.

– I am not a little girl, I can cope with it.

– And I am glad to hear it, - his face just perfectly shows how he enjoys himself at the moment.

– Shouldn't you look after your husband, hm?

– He is not my husband-

– Well, he should be.

With that you slam the door in front of Ivan's face, making him drop this mean smile from his face. If you two go on with communicating like this, you will become besties for sure.

You have never felt yourself so stupid and uncomfortable in your entire life like right at the moment, standing near the wall of the ballroom.

Genya abandoned you about a half an hour ago, and you are standing looking at the only one person here, that may draw your attention.

Aleksander spends his time discussing something with lieutenants on the opposite side of the room. Seems he is not interested in the fete or, what's most important, in you.

Not this gorgeous dress you are wearing, not your hairstyle, nothing can make the man turn his glance on your. After your last conversation none of you dared to speak with each other or look at.

Most of dates to the dance are already preoccupied with their partners, and you have only to throw sympathetic glances to Fedyor and Ivan, where one of them sometimes salutes you with a champagne glass by turns.

Not that you are just standing alone, some of familiar grisha join you from time to time having a small talk. And you may even easily escape from this party, but the chance that Genya will catch you somewhere in the corridors is pretty high and unpleasant.

But one small detail doesn't go unnoticed for you. Only couple of seconds ago the music becomes quieter, and you casts a quick glance towards the orchestra. There from their side, Aleksander is looking straight at you.

But it is not a problem at all. This detail doesn't seem to you; as soon as you follow others' glances with yours you notice a person coming to you.

The one you don't expect to see next to ever.

White coat with golden epaulettes, blond short hair and unusual charming smile instead of dull glassy glance.

Vasily Lantsov is walking straight to your side.

People around are not used to see the part of the royal family dancing with someone at parties like this one, so even musicians slow down a bit.

You are not nervous, but the whole scene is like not happening with you, so you just watch.

– Miss Y/L/N, may I have the pleasure of the dance?

His voice pitch is not high, not low, but something in the middle, although not unpleasant to hear.

You hesitate, but feeling of the general's burning glance on your figure makes you smirk slightly and nod, laying your hand in prince's one.

The music halts, but when the young man leads you to the center of the ballroom, it starts again with new force. The constant thoughts, that you are the only couple now and everybody is looking at both of you vanish as soon as Vasily's hand lays on your waistline, pressing you closer to him.

He doesn't talk, but the man is always looking at you, attentively, with the hidden interest, and you unconsciously compare this dance to your first one with general. It is stupid, because, honestly, it's nothing compared to the first fete.

You were kind of in love, charmed by a handsome stately man, who you trust with your life, and what's now?

Lost, without direction, still in love, but more love than in love, you are dancing with the prince, but not enjoying it. Though the dress is charming. With long waves it waltzes with your every movement, black and red.

Your lips touches a one sided smirk and you can only imagine what an impression this dance has on Aleksander. Surely, his subordinates will have a hard day tomorrow.

Fortunately for you, the music stops soon and the man, as a perfect gentleman, lets go of your palm and smiles in the end. You curtsy and step towards another wall, closer to the exit. One dance is pretty enough for tonight.

But when you intend to leave the room, someone's hand wraps around your wrist, slightly squeezing it, and you turn around immediately.

Lantsov doesn't go away, but stands still peering at you.

– Would you like to join me this evening, miss Y/L/N? - your eyes narrow in suspicion. Carefully you try to take your hand away from him.

– Don't think me to be rude, your Highness, but you are not known for spending time with ladies.

The young man smirks to you and you literally feel that burning gaze from another side of the room.

– I am not, but you will rescue me, if do that, - you clearly don't understand his intentions and wince.

– Otherwise, I will be sentenced to never-ending grumbling of my mother about searching for a bride.

– Oh...

– "Oh" indeed.

You barely hold yourself from chuckling, but the the prince steps closer to you, and suddenly you think that this scene can be used as a motivation. Of course, not for you.

– What do I get out of it? - you take his hand, that Vasily gladly offers to you.

– A way out of your difficult situation.

His words lit a sparkle inside of your mind, your thoughts find a common point, and you switch your interested gaze on him.

He waits for a second and casts a glance on that side where the general should be, but you decide not to test your luck, and keep staring right at the blond man in front of you.

Suddenly you remember that the ring Aleksander gave you with the letter is left in your room, on a night stand.

A nasty rotten feeling crawls inside you and all your previous thoughts vanish away.

When you turn to the direction where Kirigan stood, you see no one. There is definitely not a good sign, and you quickly look around to sneak out of the hall without Genya noticing you.

You excuse yourself and runs out of the ballroom. All this evening leaves your head full of conflicting thoughts and feelings, so you just need more fresh air.

Usually it's Aleksander who comes to your room either to make up or to take his time alone while your sleeping. But something is telling you that this day is not one of them. You need to talk to him first.

The door behind general's back slams loudly, he can even hear some of the pictures on the walls shaking. Everything in the war room is left like it was before he left for the fete. But the man isn't the same.

He ruffles his hair, exhaling tensely, marching from one corner to another in strange mix of helpless rage and jealousy.

He doesn't know, what is going on with him. All these day it was not so hard not to pay attention to this girl, and now, when Lantsov shared a dance with her, the Darkling is furious.

He unconsciously registers his own shadows crawling to his figure from the darkest sides of the room. If he goes on like this, he will surely have troubles with controlling his powers in future, leaving it to his anger.

The full moon is in the night skies and millions of glittering stars are shining radiating a slight pale light. The sudden thought of leaving the palace and having a night stroll dies with a barely audible knock.

Not many people afford themselves a luxury of disturbing the general so late at night, but anyway he heads to the door.

He opens the door rapidly and he blesses himself for wearing a usual cold mask, the general doesn't give his surprise away.

– Zoya? To what do I owe your esteemed company?

The girl's hesitating, but determined expression almost makes him smile, but he holds himself back.

– You left the fete so soon, I was afraid something happened.

Aleksander steps aside inviting her in. Honesty, he may even use this night visit to forget his predicament, but something holds him back. Something is telling him, it is not his way out.

Unconsciously his hand slips into the pocket of his kefta, fingers find the ring of black metal and green stones. He knows the similar one is somewhere here, in Y/N's room.

But when the squaller walks in further into the room, straight to the table, both of them hear one more knock. Loud, clear one. Aleksander will never mistake him for any other.

– Come in!

He doesn't busy himself opening the door, and when it's opened by the woman he is afraid to see, Kirigan finds himself enjoying the moment.

– Am I interrupting? - the witch's cold voice rings in the tense silence of the place, as she cocks her head to the side. Zoya straightens her shoulders.

– I was just keeping company with the general Kirigan, - the man follows Y/N arching a brow without any other visible signs of displeasure. – People tell it helps when you are alone. Isn't it convenient? You should know about it.

Venom in Zoya's voice is clear, but it's not enough for freaking the young woman out.

– Yes, I'm forgetting all my troubles the moment someone breaks into my chambers in the middle of the night.

Kirigan presses his lips in thin line, trying not to smile or smirk. Despite this difficult situation and visible intentions of Zoya towards him, he can't not to admire his forest witch. The little girl turns into his queen. It's just her character, that doesn't let her admit it.

– Zoya is already leaving, - Aleksander pushes himself from the wall, attentively looking at the squaller.

The dark-haired woman passes by you, not even sharing a last glance, and when the door behind her closes, you feel like finally relaxing.

– Don't like the company of the royal family?

The general locks the door and comes back to you, eyeing your figure with a silky arrogant gaze.

You, in turn, don't leave his eyes too, but with completely different expression. The man, who adored you so much, when we first met and developed your feelings towards each other, who worried about your opinion about him, now only pushes you away as hard as possible and even harder.

You indeed are not recognizing the same man you loved. But maybe you should learn to love him again.

– What was that? - your quiet voice seems to shake him to the ground. This strange calm power on the bottom on your eyes frightens him.

– What was what?

– What made you what you are? - you come closer to the man knowing that he won't go away. There are no more places where he can hide from you. – Tell me, Aleksander, what have burnt the heart out of you?

His glance is a mix of shame and disgust. He can't just not look at you and solve his problems with that. With the woman who sees through him.

– You don't want to know, Y/N.

– Well, I'm here..., - you throws your arms to the side.

Kirigan turns away and comes up to the table with maps leaning on his hands. His glance is slipping to the documents and plans, but he feels you're coming with his back.

You can't wait anymore, come closer to your lover. Lean with your hip on the table to face Aleksander, desperately staring into sharp lines of his features, trying to find that very young man he was once, so long time ago, beyond all the darkness that surrounds him.

– What do you want to hear? I was killing people in their backs all these years. I have terrified them, terrorized using my shadows, I was Ravkan punisher. Fouler than death itself.

– I understand, - you say quietly, wondering if there is still soul inside of this man. Burnt down black desert. That is all he has instead of it.

– Do you regret?

You flinch, when low voice rings in complete silence after a pause. Instead of answering you just shake your head.

– Not a minute of it...well, - Kirigan's gaze switches to yours, when you highlights last words.

– Aside from the moments when you tried to send me away.

One-sided light grin touches his face.

– Don't tell me later, that I didn't warn you.

– Even if I ever regret about my decisions, I will never blame you, Aleksander.

Something in him clicks and he straightens turning his head to you. Need in the glance only softens you more.

– Call me that again, - everything inside you clenches, as you hear his broken voice.

– Aleksander-

– No, not like that.

On a short moment you don't understand his words, but then you are finally lighted up with an idea. His hand that lays not far from you appears under your gentle touch.

– Sasha.

The walls he was building for so long are crushing down at this very moment. You make a quick move to embrace him tenderly and tightly. The man immediately hides his head in the crook of your neck.

– Has the darkness in me won over the light, Y/N? - you feel these words as he touches your skin with his lips while speaking.

– I don't know, darling. I don't know.

– Maybe they are right, - he raises his head, and you see these two burning pools of pure madness in his eyes. – Maybe the beast should stay with his own kind-

– Shut up!

Kirigan blinks and fever in his glance vanishes. He definitely doesn't expect this outburst from you.

Your hands laying on his shoulders and chest before, now are cupping his face, making the man look you in the eyes.

– Stop talking nonsense, - his eyes are searching for something on your face, something that gives up your true feelings. – I love you, Aleksander. And you are not even close to a monster. Don't you dare taking about it again.

You bring his head a bit down so your foreheads touch. Only a moment before you notice tears gathering in his eyes.

– I thought I had lost you, Y/N. My dearest love.

You move closer to finally connect your lips, savouring the perfect moment of peace. Your name sounds like a lament from his lips.

– How can you still stand me after knowing who I am?

Kirigan steals one last kiss from you touching the tip of your nose with his. This tension he felt before slowly leaves him.

– I choose to love you for the things you have control over. Yes, I may not approve your methods, but I know that you want the best for your people. That's enough for me.

– If I knew that you become the only thing I needed, I would not come into that forest.

You chuckle and this turns into light laughter, that Aleksander catches too.

– I'm taking it as a compliment, dear.

When you two stop, you realize that it is pretty late already. You won't forget yourself tomorrow's morning for the lack of sleep.

– May I stay with you? - you are searching for the answer on his face.

– Come.

Aleksander leads you to his bedroom where you stayed a couple of times, laying his broad palm on your back.

He gets rid of his own closer and changes it, handing a new clean shirt for you to change as well.

Honestly you have a small collection of his shirts in your wardrobe now, and the whole palace will probably know about it, if you ever done wrong with Genya.

When you take you places on the bed you notice, that the man is still restless.

– Just try to fall asleep, - his hand twitches under your soft touch. – Don't think about anything else, okay?

He is silent, and you go on.

– I see how you talk to your people, Aleksander, I know that you are trying for them. Grisha are dedicated to you, because they know you care about them, - your fingers start brushing circles on the back of his hand. – Though, as I said, your methods are questionable for me.

– I want grisha not to be afraid anymore. Anyone.

– I know. But I can't advise you anything. I'm sorry.

He shakes his head, covering your hand with his.

– It's okay. I'm grateful, that you are here at all, and...

Emotions overwhelm him, and the general falls silent. Suddenly you move closer and hug him tightly, placing a chaste kiss on his brow.

– Shh, sleep. We will think about this in the morning

@aleksanderwh0r3 @all-art-is-quite-useless @carlywhomever @cynthianokamaria

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x you #grisha trilogy #the darkling #the darkling fanfic #the darkling fanfiction #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you

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